Psychological Types or The Psychology of Individuation By C. G. JUNG Dr Med* et fur. of the University of Zurich Author of " Psychology of the Unconscious" .Translated by H. GODWIN BAYNES, M.B., B.C. Cantab PANTHEON BOOKS NEW YORK First f>t*J>li,sH&d &n, England in Gveat Britain l>y IT. and A~ OOKSTCABZJB I-TE*. to tti XJnJversity of PAOB CONTENTS TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE i-xxii FOREWORD 7 INTRODUCTION g The Two Mechanisms: Extraversion and Intro- version. The Four Psychological Basic Functions : Thinking, Feeling, Sensation, and Intuition, 9 CHAPTER I. THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN THE HISTORY OF CLASSICAL AND MEDIEVAL THOUGHT 15 1. Psychology in the Classical Age : the Gnostics, Tertullian, and Origen 15 2. The Theological Disputes of the Ancient Church 30 3. The Problem of Transubstantiation 33 4. Nominalism and Realism 37 (a) The Problem of the Universalia in the Classical Age, 38 ; (b) The Universalia Problem in Scholasti- cism, 52 ; (c) Abelard's Attempt at Conciliation, 62 5. The Holy Communion Controversy between Luther and Zwingli 84 CHAPTER II. SCHILLER'S IDEAS UPON THE TYPE PROBLEM 1. Letters on the Esthetic Education of Man 87 (a) The Superior and the Inferior Functions, 87 ; (b) Concerning the Basic Instincts, 123 2. A Discussion on Naive and Sentimental Poetry 163 (a) The Naive Attitude, 165 ; (b) The Sentimental Attitude, 166 ; (c) The Idealist and the Realist, 168 PSYCHOLOGICAL TYPES FAGH CHAPTER III. THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 170 CHAPTER IV. THE TYPE PROBLEM IN THE DISCERN- MENT OF HUMAN CHARACTER t. General Remarks upon Jordan's Types 184 2. Special Description and Criticism of the Jordan Types 191 (a) The Introverted Woman (the more-impassioned woman), 191 ; (b) The Extraverted Woman (the less-impassioned woman), 195; (c) The Extraverted Man, 200 ; (d) The Introverted Man, 204 CHAPTER V. THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN POETRY CARL SPITTBLER'S Prometheus and Epimetheus 1. Introductory Remarks on Spitteler's Character- ization of Types 207 2. A Comparison of Spitteler's with Goethe's Prometheus 215 3. The Significance of the Reconciling Symbol 234 (a) The Brahmanic Conception of the Problem of the Opposites, 242 ; (b) Concerning the Brahmanic Conception of the Reconciling Symbol, 247; (c) The Reconciling Symbol as the Principle of Dynamic Regulation, 257; () The Reconciling Symbol in Chinese Philosophy, 264 4. The Relativity of the Symbol 272 (a) The Service of Woman and the Service of the Soul, 272 ; (b) The Relativity of the Idea of God in Meister Eckehart, 297 5. The Nature of the Reconciling Symbol in Spitteler 320 CHAPTER VI. THE TYPE PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 337 CHAPTER VII. THE PROBLEM OF TYPICAL ATTI- TUDES IN ESTHETICS 358 CONTENTS PAG* CHAPTER VIII. THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 1. William James' Types 372 2. The Characteristic Pairs of Opposite* in James' Types 382 (a) Rationalism v. Empiricism, 382 ; (b) Intellect- ualism v. Sensationalism, 387; (c) Idealism v. Materialism, 387 ; (<*) Optimism v. Pessimism, 389 ; (e) Religiousness v. Irreligiousness, 391 ; (/) Inde- terminism v. Determinism, 393 ; (g) Monism v. Pluralism, 396 ; (h) Dogmatism v. Scepticism, 396 3. General Criticism of James' Conception 397 CHAPTER IX. THE TYPE PROBLEM IN BIOGRAPHY 401 CHAPTER X. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE TYPES A. Introduction 412 B. The Extraverted Type 416 (I) The General Attitude of Consciousness 416 (II) The Attitude of the Unconscious 422 (III) The Peculiarities of Basic Psychological Functions in the Extraverted Attitude 428 I. Thinking, 428; 2. The Extraverted Thinking Type, 434; 3. Feeling, 446; 4. The Extraverted Feeling Type, 448; 5. Recapitulation of Extra- verted Rational Types, 452; 6. Sensation, 456; 7. The Extraverted Sensation Type, 457 ; 8. Intui- tion, 461 ; 9- The Extraverted Intuitive Type, 464 ; 10. Recapitulation of Extraverted Irrational Types, 468 C. The Introverted Type (I) The General Attitude of Consciousness 471 (II) The Unconscious Attitude 477 (III) Peculiarities of the Basic Psychological Functions in the Introverted Attitude 480 I. Thinking, 480; 2. The Introverted Thinking Type, 484; 3. Feeling, 489; 4- The Introverted Feeling Type, 492; 5. Recapitulation of Intro- verted Rational Types, 495; 6. Sensation, 498; 7. The Introverted Sensation Type, 500; 8. Intuition, 505 ; 9. The Introverted Intuitive Type, 508; 10. Recapitulation of Introverted Irrational Types, 511; n. The Principal and Auxiliary Functions, 513 CHAPTER XI. DEFINITIONS 518 i. Abstraction, 520; 2. Affect, 522; 3. Affectivity, 523; 4. Anima, 524; 5. Apperception, 524; 6. Archaism, 524 ; 7. Assimilation, 525 ; 8. Attitude, 526; 9. Collective, 530; 10. Compensation, 531; n. Concretism, 533 ; 12. Consciousness, 535 ; 13. Constructive, 536; 14. Differentiation, 539; 15. Dissimilation, 540 ; 16. Ego, 540 ; 17. Emotion, 541 ; 18. Enantiodromia, 541 ; 19. Extra version, 542; 20. Feeling, 543; 21. Feeling-into, 547; 22. Function, 547 ; 23. Idea, 547 ; 24. Identification, 55i I 2 5- Identity, 552; 26. Image, 554; 27. Individual, 560; 28. Individuality, 561; 29. Individuation, 561 ; 30. Inferior Function, 563 ; 31. Instinct, 565; 32. Intellect, 566; 33. Intro- jection, 566 ; 34. Introversion, 567 ; 35. Intuition, 567; 36. Irrational, 569; 37. Libido, 571; 38. Objective Plane, 572; 39. Orientation, 572; 40. "Participation Mystique", 572; 41. Phantasy, 573; 42. Power-Complex, 582; 43. Projection, 582; 44. Rational, 583; 45. Reductive, 584; 46. Self, 585 ; 47. Sensation, 585 ; 48. Soul, 588 ; 49. Soul-Image, 596; 50. Subjective Plane, 599; 51. Symbol, 60 1 ; 52. Synthetic, 610 ; 53. Thinking, 611 ; 54. Transcendent Function, 612 ; 55. Type, 612 ; 56. Unconscious, 613 ; 57. Will, 616. CONCLUSION 618 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE IN presenting this, Jung's crowning work, to the English-speaking world, I would like to make a brief sketch of the curve of the author's thought ; for, like everything that is rooted in reality, Jung's standpoint shows a definite line of development, and the following of this progression may add a historical sidelight to the understanding of the present work. I would have preferred to avoid the troubled waters of controversy, but it does not seem possible to relate the history of Jung's standpoint without at the same time contrasting it with that of Freud. That this somewhat thankless task was necessary is proved by the still frequent coupling of the two schools of thought under a common denomination, suggesting that the general mind has, as yet, failed to make a clear distinction between the contrasting standpoints. Freud undoubtedly is an analytical genius. One has only to read his early studies upon the aetiology of hysteria to be struck by the virtuosity of his subtle reasoning. It was an intuitive capacity of no ordinary shrewdness that revealed the hidden significance of the hysterical syndrome. For it opened the way to an entirely new con- ception of the unconscious, and led to a rediscovery of the dream as a significant and purposeful product of that same unconscious activity of which the hysterical manifestations were a somatic expression. i A ii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE Freud was like a master-detective tracking down the incriminating complex in the uncon- scious, while Breuer, his colleague, contented himself with exorcizing the repressed elements from above by abreaction under hypnosis. In medical science we can discern two main human types or attitudes whose behaviour towards the therapeutic problem presents a characteristic contrast. The chief interest of the one lies in the welfare of mankind and the healing of his patient ; the other's interest is monopolized by the aetiologi- cal problem presented by the patient's condition, and is concerned in & less degree with its remedy. The one attempts to discover a remedy before understanding the problem; the other tends to become so completely immersed in the problem that the original objective, e.g. the healing of mankind, is often lost to view. We do not find the greatest minds succumbing to either of these frailties, but it is not out of place to outline such typical predispositions, since the vague benevolence and imperfect understanding of the one are as far below the scientific de- sideratum, as are the other's exclusive ardours for the " scientific " chase a blemish upon the ideal of humanity. While Breuer, therefore, seems to have been content with the therapeutic efficacy of hypnotic abreaction, Freud found in this procedure merely a starting-point for a further investigation of those avenues which the abreacted material opened out, and, as he rather naively admits, no one was more surprised than himself to observe that this further investigation of the patient's subterranean activities TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE ill produced valuable therapeutic results. It is, of course, true that some of the most beneficent therapeutic measures have been discovered in precisely this way, as incidental by-products as it were, of the process of scientific investigation, but for the purpose of comparison it is important to stress the fact that Freud's approach was pre- eminently that of the empirical investigator, because it is in this attitude that we find both his strength and his limitation as a psychologist. We will return again to this point when the picture has been more fully outlined. While Freud was enduring the obloquy of the psychological pioneer in Vienna, Jung was approaching similar conclusions from a very dif- ferent angle in Zurich. By a further elaboration of the word-association experiments formerly em- ployed by Galton and Wundt for other ends, he succeeded in the most delicate task of devising objective criteria for the recognition of uncon- scious complexes. The discovery of prolonged reaction time, perseveration, etc., associated with affect-toned presentations led to his invaluable formulation of the complex, from which he advanced to the same fundamental concept of repression which Freud had reached by the clinical route. This naturally brought the two pioneers together, and Jung found in Freud's masterly analytical technique the admitted highroad to the unconscious processes. In so far as it was purely a question of method, Freud and Jung found themselves in harmony, but the study of psychological processes can never remain a mere question of method ; sooner or later iv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE it must challenge the investigator to produce a philosophic standpoint. And here a basic psycho- logical difference began to make itself felt. Freud the empiricist wanted to limit his psychological principles to empirically ascertainable matters of fact On the lines of orthodox scientific deter- minism he preferred an exclusively causal and reductive account of the psyche. Jung, on the other hand, appreciated the fact that man was more than a variously disordered object he was also a self-creating subject. He argued that the causal explanation cannot be regarded as exclusive in the psychological realm, since the final or purposive explanation finds equal justification in human experience. He began to feel that the in- evitable sexual interpretations, however widely the term might be stretched, were too poor a render- ing of the passionate and infinitely diverse aims of the human soul. In harmony, therefore, with Robert Mayer's conception in the realm of physics, he developed the energic conception of the libido, thus lifting the whole subject from a one-sided and purely empiricistic standpoint to the level of uni- versal concepts, where science and philosophy are able to understand one another. The actual point of divergence between the two standpoints occurred, significantly enough, over the question of the mother-imago. As is well known, Freud's interpretation of the mother- image in dreams is exclusively referred to the actual mother or mother-surrogate. Jung con- tended that the almost magical influence of the parent-imago with its supreme dynamic effect upon the whole course of a man's life, not only TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE v shaping his actions, thoughts, and relations to the world with secret and invisible determination, but also creating the figures of the father and mother deities in his religious and fantasy life, could find no final explanation in the actual events of infantile and adolescent experience. The difficulty was admitted by Freud, but the acceptance of inherited racial experience as an integral factor in psychic life opened such menacing vistas 1 , involving frank disaster to the compre- hensive system he had devised and was prepared to demonstrate to the world, that he resolutely shut his eyes to the possibility of this boundless and primeval continuity. He was only prepared to explain the discrete, individual psyche, and Jung's conception of the collective unconscious opened the door to unnamed things from the jungle and primeval forest : it introduced a world of unknown elemental forces which must be un- conditionally excluded from a scientific system. But, apart from the considerations above alluded to, Jung's argument was incontestable. The lungs of the new-born infant know how to breathe, the heart knows how to beat, the whole co-ordinated organic system knows how to function, only because the infant's body is the product of inherited functional experience. The whole story of man's struggle for adaptation to life, his whole phylogenetic history, are represented in that ' know- ing how ' of the infant's body. Is it then blindness or fear that urges us to deny to the infant psyche that same functional inheritance which is so mani- i Cf . Jung's treatment of the " terrible mother " motif, in the Psychology of the Unconscious. iv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE it must challenge the investigator to produce a philosophic standpoint. And here a basic psycho- logical difference began to make itself felt. Freud the empiricist wanted to limit his psychological principles to empirically ascertainable matters of fact. On the lines of orthodox scientific deter- minism he preferred an exclusively causal and reductive account of the psyche. Jung, on the other hand, appreciated the fact that man was more than a variously disordered object he was also a self-creating subject. He argued that the causal explanation cannot be regarded as exclusive in the psychological realm, since the final or purposive explanation finds equal justification in human experience. He began to feel that the in- evitable sexual interpretations, however widely the term might be stretched, were too poor a render- ing of the passionate and infinitely diverse aims of the human soul. In harmony, therefore, with Robert Mayer's conception in the realm of physics, he developed the energic conception of the libido, thus lifting the whole subject from a one-sided and purely empiricistic standpoint to the level of uni- versal concepts, where science and philosophy are able to understand one another. The actual point of divergence between the two standpoints occurred, significantly enough, over the question of the mother-imago. As is well known, Freud's interpretation of the mother- image in dreams is exclusively referred to the actual mother or mother-surrogate. Jung con- tended that the almost magical influence of the parent-imago with its supreme dynamic effect upon the whole course of a man's life, not only TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE v shaping his actions, thoughts, and relations to the world with secret and invisible determination, but also creating the figures of the father and mother deities in his religious and fantasy life, could find no final explanation in the actual events of infantile and adolescent experience. The difficulty was admitted by Freud, but the acceptance of inherited racial experience as an integral factor in psychic life opened such menacing vistas 1 , involving frank disaster to the compre- hensive system he had devised and was prepared to demonstrate to the world, that he resolutely shut his eyes to the possibility of this boundless and primeval continuity. He was only prepared to explain the discrete, individual psyche, and Jung's conception of the collective unconscious opened the door to unnamed things from the jungle and primeval forest : it introduced a world of unknown elemental forces which must be un- conditionally excluded from a scientific system. But, apart from the considerations above alluded to, Jung's argument was incontestable. The lungs of the new-born infant know how to breathe, the heart knows how to beat, the whole co-ordinated organic system knows how to function, only because the infant's body is the product of inherited functional experience. The whole story of man's struggle for adaptation to life, his whole phylogenetic history, are represented in that ' know- ing how ' of the infant's body. Is it then blindness or fear that urges us to deny to the infant psyche that same functional inheritance which is so mani- i Cf. Jung's treatment of the "terrible mother" motif, in the Psychology of the Unconscious. vi TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE festly present in the other organs ? What is this dark fear of our archaic past which prompts us to reject the possibility of any psychic experience other than that of our individual lives ? At all events it is clear that, once the existence of these inherited psychic structures is admitted as the basis of psychic activity, that conception of the unconscious and its contents which regards it as derived exclusively from objective experience in the single individual life must go by the board. Here, then, was the alternative which, from the historical standpoint, we must regard as crucial. Either Jung's conception of the collective uncon- scious must be admitted, and with it the whole inner world of the subject, wherein the inner images or archetypes are granted an equal deter- mining power with the objects of the outer world, or the one-sided empirical system must be main- tained with its somewhat arbitrary postulates, and the whole disturbing vision of the collective unconscious be rejected as a fantastic impossibility. Jung's great work, Psychology of the Unconscious, was the final statement of his separation from and advance beyond the Freudian standpoint, and Freud's reaction to this work made it clear that he too recognized an insuperable opposition. For in this work Jung did not confine himself to a reduction of the Miller fantasies to their in- stinctive roots; he also identified the personal themes with universal religious and mythological conceptions, thus raising them to a level of general importance. But, in so doing, he also proved the necessity of the synthetic standpoint in analytical psychology a demonstration that bore unavoid- TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE vii able implications unfavourable to the Freudian position. That the divergence between Freud and Jung must sooner or later have become acute will, I think, be clear when we remember that between the two men there existed not only the difference of race but also a radical difference of type. An extravert, by his very nature, is bound to produce a psychology differing essentially from that of the introvert. For Freud the aims of empirical science, with its centripetal bias towards a minute and detailed analysis of observable facts, were absolute; whereas for Jung a purely objective psychology was not enough, in that it entirely omitted the undeniable reality and power of the idea. This is not the place to enter into a discussion of the relative values of the extraverted empiricistic and the introverted abstracting attitudes in human thought; the struggle of these two elements, as Jung shows in the present work, is synonymous with the history of human culture. They are both essential as mutual correctives, and it is only when either tendency becomes a one-sided habitual attitude that commonsense steps in and makes its inscrutable judgment. In science these two general tendencies appear as the twin capacities of empirical observation of facts and of intellectual abstraction from the facts observed of generally valid principles, but only in the man of genius do we find both capacities fully and symmetrically developed. In my view, criticism of Freud's achievement should be based not upon the fact that he failed to perceive the possibility of a general application viii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE of his ideas this he apprehended only too clearly but upon his inability to frame concepts of general validity. He attempted to piake the infinitely complex phenomena of the psyche harmonize with theories intuitively derived from clinical material; but he was unable to enlarge or reconstruct his theoretical system to embrace the wider aspects of human experience and culture. The normal was con- sidered in terms of the pathological. A gradual, but very definite, movement of intelligent opinion away from the Freudian stand- point at the present time is, in my view, a commonsense reaction to the damaging deprecia- tion of essential human values involved in this reductive valuation of the psyche. For the reduc- tive standpoint fails to see that every complex is Janus-faced, and that the energy invested in it is never purely regressive, but is rather a reculer pour mieux sauter. The extraordinary vitality of the infantile complex would be quite inexplicable on the supposition that it was a wholly regressive tendency. But it demands a synthetic standpoint to perceive that every dawning possibility in life is heralded by the image of the child, the symbol of eternal youth, and that the infantile complex with its simplicity and trust in life is also the growing point of the developing personality. Every child perceives, what the investigator may fail to see, that a living man in his most eager and productive moments exhibits certain essential char- acters of childhood. Creative activity demands the power and complexity of the man as well as the simple attitude of the child. But Jung himself TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE ix deals so fully and so much more ably with the limitations of the purely reductive standpoint, that I need not elaborate this aspect of the subject here. It has been argued that psycho-analysis does not claim to be more than a therapeutic technique and a method of research, and that it is irrelevant for the psychologist to concern himself with the question of human development or with the in- evitable ancillary problems of morality, religion, and human relationship. In this very argument the essential limitations of this standpoint stand self-confessed, since a psychology that excludes the most vital problems of life from its sphere of responsibility requires no further criticism. It is already moribund. Actually, of course, a psycho- logic nihilism which broke down every individual form into its elements and put nothing in its place could not, conceivably, have anything but disastrous therapeutic results. But Freud does put something positive and definite in its place; for there always remains the transference to the analyst, which, in the case of a positive transfer- ence, involves a .gradual assimilation by the patient to the analyst's general attitude to life, and in the alternative case a very definite rejection of the man and all his ways. This unconscious identification with the analyst is quite outside the sphere of the latter's control. It is inherent in the analytical relationship. But for the analyst to wash his hands of this uncon- scious effect, with its far-reaching moral influence upon the patient's subsequent development, is as irresponsible as though a surgeon were to shut his eyes to the inevitable dangers of haemorrhage and A* x TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE sepsis. The question of moral responsibility, therefore, is inherent in analytical practice, and, since this is so, we have every right to demand of a practical psychological system that it shall attempt to discover the fundamental laws of human development and, as far as possible, to formulate them. We said at the beginning that Freud was an empirical investigator, and that this was both his strength and his limitation. It is his strength, because it required the empirical attitude to discover and establish the psycho-analytic technique ; and it is his limitation, because the general attitude to life which is governed solely by objective facts and considerations is quite incapable of judging man as a subject. If, as Freud points out in Totem and Taboo, human morality can be traced back to the first primeval act of parricide, a deri- vative of some remote arboreal conflict between the parent's authority and the son's lust for his father's wives, then morality can exist only as a constituent of herd-psychology, and the individual moral law is as much a delusion as is free will to a determinist. It is obvious that a purely objective standpoint must similarly interpret all the realities of the inner world as mere derivatives or reflects of objective facts. Man is wholly determined, there- fore, by things outside himself. He is nothing but a " singe rati", a mere mechanism that gets out of order, and, by an appropriate use of the correct method, can be put right again. This standpoint is well illustrated by the Freudian interpretation of dreams, which always explains the dream-figures as carefully disguised TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xi ignoring the possibility that such images may also be symbols of subjective realities existing in their own right. The Freudian standpoint, then, in attempting to explain all the phenomena of human psychology in terms of objective facts, remains one-sided, and the extent of its limitations may conceivably be measured by the intolerance with which it discusses or ignores every standpoint that ventures beyond its circumscribed terrain. Since there have always been large numbers of men for whom the objects and experiences of the psychic life bear a more immediate sense of reality than the world of objective facts, it is clear that a purely objective account of the psychological processes could not win any considerable support beyond the specialized limit of its own peculiar faculty. But, however much the historical eye may regard the wider subjective valuation and synthetic method of Jung as the inevitable response of psychology to essential human demands, the greatest honour must none the less be given to Jung, for, not only was he the first psychologist to perceive these demands, but he also voiced them in principles whose universality could embrace the heights and the depths of the psyche and com- prehend its manifold diversity. In establishing the two typical mechanisms of introversion and extraversion together with the main categories of human types based upon this fundamental antithesis, Jung has demonstrated the impossibility of every attempt to formulate a generally valid theory of human psychology which ignores these typical differences. For a theory whose validity is incontestable for the psyche from rfl TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE which it originated proves itself worthless and even misleading for an individual of another type. From considerations such as these we must confess our inability to devise any rigid or dogmatic formula which can be authoritatively promulgated as a general system of psychological therapy. A physician once justly complained to Jung that he had made analysis so difficult. It is certainly true that the pronouncements of Freud relieve the analyst of a very considerable onus. He is not required to ask himself What is the individual way of this particular subject ? He has merely to reduce his patient's psychological material to its elementary constituents according to prescribed ' orthodox ' formulations, and if the patient is not satisfied he either proves himself psychologically inadequate to receive the truth, or so immersed in his morbid state that the analytical light serves only to reveal its impenetrable obscurities. In his sub-title to this book Jung has called it the Psychology of Individuation, and therewith he affirms the essential principle of his philosophy ; for to Jung the psyche is a world which contains all the elements of the greater world, with the same destructive and constructive forces a plural- istic universe in which the individual either fulfils or neglects his essential r61e of creator. The individuality is the central co-ordinating principle of this realm, analogous to the principle of royalty in the nation; and, in so far as this co-ordinating will achieves an effective command of the diverse and conflicting elements which constantly tend to disrupt his kingdom, are we justified in speaking of a differentiated individual The individuality is universally present, but as TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xiil a rule it exists mainly in the unconscious, often finding expression in dreams and fantasies in some royal or princely figure. It is a principle, therefore, which has to be created out of the unconscious by accepting individuation as a de- liberate and conscious aim. It may be asked what has individuation got to do with the treatment of nervous disorders ? This question springs from the assumption that there is no fundamental relation between the realities of the psychic life and the symptomatic conditions of the body. And yet the lives of religious founders one and all bear witness to the fact that the healing of the body is not unconnected with the inner life. If differentiation and co-ordination of function are admitted as the vital principles of organic life, it is difficult to see how one can regard psychic or functional disorders as anything else than a state- ment of the relative suppression of these principles in the individual in question. The psyche, there- fore, has to be considered as a totality, and not as an ill-assorted collection of instincts and faculties. For, if man is not a mere passive mechanism to be shaped to the pattern of a chosen formula, he stands before us as a self-creating subject whose individual way may be directly opposed to the analyst's most cherished theories. It has often been levelled against Jung that his is a pedagogic system, that he tries to teach people how they should live, how they should settle their problems, instead of merely indicating the un- conscious state of affairs and leaving them to find their way out. We are told that the physician should confine himself to the purely medical aspect xiv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE of the case, and that to voice any criticism which might suggest a definite moral or religious stand- point is to encroach upon other domains for which he has no qualifications. This point of view is very common and has a certain justification, supported as it is by the whole traditional con- stitution of society. But, in spite of an argument apparently so overwhelming, the individual psyche persistently over-rides the social categories, and, notwithstanding every rational attempt to regard it in terms of "mechanisms" and functions, its claim to be considered as a whole has never once abated. Since this claim appears to have a socially subversive tendency and occasions very real fear in a great many minds, it might be well to examine its character. If we assume and without this assumption no system of psycho-therapy has any reasonable basis that a neurosis is an act of adaptation that has failed, we are faced, in an individual case, with the question: What is the nature of the reality to which this individual has failed to adapt ? The materialist would fain have us believe that the only reality demanding psychic adaptation is represented by the sheer concrete facts of the physical environment. But, if concrete facts were the only reality, there would be no spiritual problem, and consequently no neurotics. The minimal adjustment to objective conditions demanded by social life could present no insuper- able difficulty to anyone but an imbecile unless there were another reality of a very different nature always competing with the concrete world for prior claim upon our energy. This other psychic or spiritual reality, which TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xv comprises the whole inner life of the subject, is as constantly demanding new forms and expressions of its energy as is the world of external objects, even though it does not make the same com- pelling demand upon our attention. The fantastic hallucinations of the delirium tremens patient or the paranoic are equally strong evidence for the reality of these inner claims as are the ecstatic- experiences of the religious mystic; only in the former case they are seen from the reverse side. For this reality the evidence is necessarily sub- jective. The snakes and frogs seen by the patient in his delirium, however delusional to an objective valuation, possess an indisputable reality to the man himself. Clearly, therefore, there are two quite different kinds of reality, both of which, while pressing their respective claims upon our capacity for adaptation, are nevertheless mutually dependent in the sense that neglect or disregard of either eventually destroys the validity of both. Again, thousands of lives are fruitlessly spent in a neurotic attempt to escape an overpowering parental influence, just as there are innumerable lives seeking a release from the unconscious tyranny of collective authority. The need of the growing child to differentiate himself as an in- dividual from the magical parental influence is essentially the same as the individuating impulse to distinguish oneself as a " single, separate person " from the collective "en masse". But the develop- ing child who seeks to adventure beyond the magic circle of the family encounters not only the authority and conservatism of the older generation, but also the far more dangerous inertia and infantil- ism of his own psychology. rvl TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE In either case it is essentially the same conflict between the individual and the collective elements, whether within or without, and what could prevail against the authority without or the inertia within, but an inner necessity or law whose incontestable superiority can stand firm against every attack. The genuine rebel in his resistance against the law can win our sympathy in spite of ourselves. Notwithstanding every rational resistance, the inner superiority enforces our recognition of its power. The genuine neurotic (as opposed to the social deserter) is typically a man who cannot reconcile the claims of traditional forms and values with those of the obscure, but unbending, law within. For him, the inner and outer claims are contradictory and mutually exclusive. In answer to the persistent demands of the social tax-collector he can only guarantee the overdue payments to Caesar when Caesar shall first have recognized the paramount claims of God. For such a man to be delivered over once again to the orthodox representatives of traditional values, whatever the formula may be, is merely to hand him over to his creditors. Before he can do justice to traditional forms or fulfil his social task, he must first submit himself unconditionally to the fundamental law of his own being. This is his stronghold, this his root in an enduring reality, and with this security he can go out into the world, not only to settle the old imperial demands, but also, perchance, to reanimate the forms that ire with the vision of what is to be. To the critic then who charges Jung with pedagogic interference, we would reply : Jung does aot teach a man how he shall act or think or live, TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xvii but he gives him a technique by which he can comprehend and finally submit to the laws of his own nature. The basic principles of human de- velopment are not vested in any faculty they have no academic formula, for they embrace every function of human activity. They are commen- surate with life. It is not surprising, therefore, that it is from just those quarters where authority reigns and where 4 truth ' is already congealed into a dogma, that this particular .criticism usually springs. It is easier to teach and practise a formula than to try to interpret the meaning of life; but a rational formula is doomed from the outset, because it tends to seduce men to turn away from the enigma of life by offering them a formula in its stead : thus it opposes life, and its inherent destructiveness determines its own fate. No psychological formula can ever explain life. At the best, it can only present the living process in a thinkable form to our reason. As soon as it claims to have explained a living process, its effect is destructive, since it interposes an authoritative, ready-made explanation between the individual and the real problems life presents, thus apparently relieving him of the need to seek his own individual solution. This is what Jung describes as negative, in contrast to positive or creative, thinking ; for what we call character is nothing but the measure of sincerity with which an individual creates a positive adaptation to the essential problems of life. A formula is an artefact, a rigid and arbitrary frame into which the plastic and changing forms of life are impressed. The resistance of the un- conscious to this imposition is perceptible in the xviii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE impassioned dogmatism of the man who has accepted a formula as an explanation of life. A principle, on the other hand, acquires its validity not from the authority of the man who lays it down, but from life itself, whose manifold processes it correlates and brings into abstract form. Formulas live and die like their authors one might almost say with their authors ; whereas the validity of an abstract principle is just as durable as the processes it embraces and com- prehends. It needs neither authority nor defence. It bears'within it its own prerogative. Jung's analytical interpretations are admittedly based upon the principles established in the present work, but practical application of them, i.e. their translation again into life, rests wholly with the individual subject. The individuality is the alpha and omega of Jung's system, not, however, as an expression of personal power as the egoist would like to inter- pret it, but essentially as a fimction of the whole. This in itself sufficiently disposes of the pedagogic critics, for a system which aims at individual autonomy cannot justly, be described as peda- gogic. Naturally there could be no interpretation at all without a standpoint. In practice, therefore, the most that we can humanly demand is that the standpoint of the analyst should constantly be orientated towards the individual way, or " greatest ought " of the subject. It is, of course, true that, however genuinely an analyst may strive to realize this aim, his interpretation will, to a large extent, be subjectively conditioned. This is psychologi- cally unavoidable, but the very sincerity with which he strives to interpret the fundamental TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xix needs of his patient from the material at his dis- posal must surely make for individual autonomy. Whereas the opposite standpoint that would reduce psychic experience into terms of arbitrary mechan- isms must inevitably tend to standardize mankind ; because, in this case, the main criterion of judg- ment is the relative measure of conformity with the orthodox formula. From the point of view of social economy, there can surely be no two opinions that a psychological technique whose aim it is to create individuals is of greater value to society than a system which aims at conformity. For an indi- vidual who is at one with himself seeks a creative collective expression from inner necessity, while the dragooned neurotic is of as little service to society as an unwilling conscript. But how, it may be asked, can a physician learn to forgo the customary collectivized view of his fellow-man and train himself to an unprejudiced view of his patient's individuality unobscured by his own unconscious projections ? It will, I think, be clear, that before a physician can fully recognize and respect the individuality of his patient, he must first have given allegiance to this principle in himself. This does not mean to say that only a differentiated individual is fitted to practise analysis such a condition would disqualify every candidate but it does demand that the analyst shall himself have been analysed and shall have made a sincere attempt to deal with his own life problems before undertaking to deal with those of his patients. The aims of the individuality can never be fully apprehended by exclusive reference to the biological xx TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE or instinctive life of the subject ; in fact, just as little can they be explained in terms of instinct as a work-of-art in terms of energy. One might attempt to formulate the chief aim of the indivi- duality as the effort to create out of oneself the most significant product of which one is capable. On the biological plane this is clearly the child but on the psychic level this must be interpreted more broadly as something that bears for the individual, in the fullest sense of the term, a significance at least analogous to that of the child. For the greatest individual value is always pregnant with value for mankind. Hence the budding personality with its potential- ities for good or ill is frequently represented in dreams in the form of a child. The whole symbolism of rebirth is quite un- intelligible from a purely biological standpoint; hence a system that is blinded by its preoccupa- tion with purely instinctive interpretations presents a definite obstruction to the whole transforming or spiritualizing tendency of the libido. The obvious prospective significance of the rebirth symbolism in dreams is, to my mind, so apparent that one is tempted to accuse the reductive school of wilful blindness. But this would, of course, be quite absurd, and one has to remind oneself that the dream, like the lily of the field, is a natural product unassisted by human intention, and that it is quite as rational to regard the lily as a fortunate accidental grouping of basic organic elements as to conceive it as a symbol of purity. The standpoint, therefore, eventually decides the interpretation, as it also decides the manner in which the interpretation is employed. . TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xxl I have now revealed the very practical motive which prompted me to bring this whole question of the underlying opposition of standpoint into the foreground of discussion. This attempt, although foredoomed to excite controversy, will, I hope, in spite of the obvious inadequacy of such a brief out- line, help to clarify the situation in a way that a more cautious and non-committal statement would fail to do. The great value of the present work lies in the fact that it is a mature and conscious survey of the psychological field, viewed by a mind of unique range and development whose astonishing wealth of psychological experience illumines the whole work. The range of Jung's thought has developed with his experience. The Psychology of the Unconscious was the shaft of the tree this work is its ample spread. For practical psychologists it must assuredly be regarded as the foundation of the science, for in no other work do we find basic psychological principles whose validity is commensurate with the undeniable facts of man's historic development and the realities of individual experience. The actual translation of the work was a task of such difficulty that often I despaired of giving the book an adequate rendering into English. Fortunately I had exceptional oppor- tunities of assistance from the author himself, for whose unstinted patience and generosity in listening to my translation week by week and offering invaluable suggestions I cannot be too grateful. For most valued assistance in the various pre- paratory stages of the work I wish to tender my warmest acknowledgments to my wife, to Mrs xxil TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE Lilian A. Clare, to Mr John M. Thorburn of Cardiff University, and finally, to Mr W. Swan Stallybrass (of Messrs Kegan Paul & Co. Ltd., my publishers) for whose friendly offices and inde- fatigable care in the matter of punctuation and typography throughout the book I offer my very cordial appreciation. With regard to the use of italics in this book I wish to explain that, with the exception of titles of books, italics have been reserved to denote stress. Had all the numerous foreign words occurring in the text been printed in italic type, in accordance with English typographical convention, the special value of this type, from the point of view of the author's meaning, would have been lost. Our only other alternative was to use quotation-marks, but in, many places foreign words occur so frequently that this would have served merely to blur the page and confuse the eye. There are a few ex- ceptions to the above rule, the reasons for which will be obvious. Double quotation-marks are used for actual quotations ; single marks for indicating philosophical terms used in special senses, fafons deparler, etc. For the fact that, with the exception of the quotations from Kant, I have nowhere availed myself of existing English translations either of the Oriental or the European authors quoted in the text, I must plead my residence in Zurich, where the various works were inaccessible. H. G. BAYNES. 24 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE, LONDON, W.8. FOREWORD THIS book is the fruit ot nearly twenty years' work in the domain of practical psychology. It is a gradual intellectual structure, equally compounded of numberless impressions and experiences in the practice of psychiatry and nervous maladies, and of intercourse with men of all social levels ; it is a product, therefore, of my personal dealings with friend and with foe ; and finally it has a further source in the criticism of my own psychological particularity. I do not propose to burden the reader with casuistry ; it is, however, incumbent upon me to link up the ideas, derived from experience, both historically and termino- logically with already existing knowledge. I have done this not so much from a sense of historical justice as from a desire to bring the experiences of the medical specialist out of narrow professional limits into more general relations; relations which will enable the educated lay mind to make use of the experiences of a specialized terrain. I would never have ventured to attempt this expansion, which might well be misunder- stood as an encroachment upon other spheres, were I not convinced that the psychological points of view pre- sented in this book are of wide significance and appli- cation, and are therefore better treated in a general connection than left in the form of a specialized scientific hypothesis. With this aim in view I have confined myself to a discussion of the ideas ot a few workers in the field of the problem under review, and have omitted to mention 8 FOREWORD all that has already been said concerning our problem in general. Quite apart from the fact that to catalogue such a collection of correlated material and views with even bare adequacy would far exceed my powers, the inventory, when completed, could make no sort of funda- mental contribution to the discussion and development of the problem. Without regret, therefore, I have omitted much that I have collected in the course of years, con- fining myself as far as possible to the main questions. A most valuable document, that afforded me great help, has also been sacrificed in this renunciation. This is a bulky correspondence which I exchanged with my friend, Dr H. Schmid of Basle, concerning the question of types. I owe a great deal to this interchange of ideas, and much of it, though of course in an altered and greatly revised form, has gone into my book. This correspondence belongs essentially to the stage of preparation, and its inclusion would create more confusion than clarity. But I owe it to the labours of my friend to express my thanks to him here. C G. JUNG. Kiisnacht, Zurich Spring, 1920. INTRODUCTION " Plato and Aristotle I These are not merely two systems ; they are also types of two distinct human natures, which from immemorial time, under every sort of cloak, stand more or less inimically opposed. But pre-eminently the whole medieval period was riven by this con- flict, persisting even to the present day ; moreover, this battle is the most essential content of the history of the Christian Church. Though under different names, always and essentially it is of Plato and Aris- totle that we speak. Enthusiastic, mystical, Platonic natures reveal Christian ideas and their corresponding symbols from the bottomless depths of their souls. Practical, ordering, Aristotelian natures build up from these ideas and symbols a solid system, a dogma and a cult. The Church eventually embraces both natures one of them sheltering among the clergy, while the other finds refuge in monasticism ; yet both incessantly at feud." H. HEINE, DeutscUand, i. IN my practical medical work with nervous patients I have long been struck by the fact that among the many individual differences in human psychology there exist also typical distinctions : two types especially became clear to me which I have termed the Introversion and the Extroversion Types. When we reflect upon human history, we see how the destinies of one individual are conditioned more by the objects of his interest, while in another they are conditioned more by his own inner self, by his subject Since, there- fore, we all swerve rather more towards one side than the other, we are naturally disposed to understand everything in the sense of our own type. I mention this circumstance at this point to prevent possible subsequent misunderstandings. As may well be understood, this basic condition considerably aggravates the difficulty of a general description of the types. I cnust presume a considerable benevolence on the part of Jto INTRODUCTION the reader if I may hope to be rightly understood. It would be relatively simple if every reader himself knew to which category he belonged. But it is often a difficult matter to discover to which type an individual belongs, especially when oneself is in question. Judgment in relation to one's own personality is indeed always extra- ordinarily clouded. This subjective clouding of judgment is, therefore, a frequent if not constant factor, for in every pronounced type there exists a special tendency towards compensation for the onesidedness of his type^ a tendency which is biologically expedient since it is a constant effort to maintain psychic equilibrium. Through compen- sation there arise secondary characters, or tyfas, which present a picture that is extraordinarily hard to decipher, so difficult, indeed, that one is even inclined to deny the existence of types in general and to believe only in individual differences. I must emphasize this difficulty in order to justify a certain peculiarity in my later presentation. For it might seem as though a simpler way would be to describe two concrete cases and to lay their dissections one beside the other. But every individual possesses both mechanisms extraversion as well as introversion, and only the relative predominance of the one or the other determines the type. Hence, in order to bring out the necessary relief in the picture, one would have to re-touch it rather vigorously ; which would certainly amount to a more or less pious fraud. Moreover, the psychological reaction of a human being is such a complicated matter, that my descriptive ability would indeed hardly suffice to give an absolutely correct picture of it. From sheer necessity, therefore, I must confine myself to a presentation of principles which I have abstracted from an abundance of observed facts. In this there is no question of deductio a priori, as it might well appear : it INTRODUCTION n is rather a deductive presentation of empirically gained understanding. It is my hope that this insight may prove a clarifying contribution to a dilemma which, not in analytical psychology alone but also in other provinces of science, and especially in the personal relations of human beings one to another, has led and still continues to lead to misunderstanding and division. For it explains how the existence of two distinct types is actually a fact that has long been known : a fact that in one form or another has dawned upon the observer of human nature or shed light upon the brooding reflection of the thinker ; presenting itself, for example, to Goethe's intuition as the embracing principle of systole and diastole. The names and forms in which the mechanism of introversion and extraversion has been conceived are extremely diverse, and are, as a rule, adapted only to the standpoint of the individual observer. Notwithstanding the diversity of the formulations, the common basis or fundamental idea shines constantly through; namely, in the one case an outward movement of interest toward the object, and in the other a movement of interest away from the object, towards the subject and his own psychological processes. In the first case the object works like a magnet upon the tendencies of the subject; it is, therefore, an attraction that to a large extent determines the subject. It even alienates him from himself : his qualities may become so transformed, in the sense of assimilation to the object, that one could imagine the object to possess an extreme and even decisive significance for the subject. It might almost seem as though it were an absolute determination, a special purpose of life or fate that he should abandon himself wholly to the object. But, in. the latter case, the subject is and remains the centre of every interest. It looks, one might say, as though all the life-energy were ultimately seeking the ia INTRODUCTION subject, thus offering a constant hindrance to any over- powering influence on the part of the object. It is as though energy were flowing away from the object, as if the subject were a magnet which would draw the object to itself. It is not easy to characterize this contrasting relation- ship to the object in a way that is lucid and intelligible ; there is, in fact, a great danger of reaching quite para- doxical formulations which would create more confusion than clarity. Quite generally, one could describe the introverted standpoint as one that under all circumstances sets the self and the subjective psychological process above the object and the objective process, or at any rate holds its ground against the object. This attitude, there- fore, gives the subject a higher value than the object. As a result, the object always possesses a lower value ; it has secondary importance; occasionally it even re- presents merely an outward objective token of a subjective content, the embodiment of an idea in other words, in which, however, the idea is the essential factor; or it is the object of a feeling, where, however, the feeling ex- perience is the chief thing, and not the object in its own individuality. The extraverted standpoint, on the con- trary, sets the subject below the object, whereby the object receives the predominant value. The subject always has secondary importance; the subjective process appears at times merely as a disturbing or superfluous accessory to objective events. It is plain that the psychology resulting from these antagonistic standpoints must be distinguished as two totally different orientations. The one sees every- thing from the angle of his conception, the other from the view-point of the objective occurrence. These opposite attitudes are merely opposite mechan- isms a diastolic going out and seizing of the object, and a systolic concentration and release of energy from INTRODUCTION 13 the object seized. Every human being possesses both mechanisms as an expression of his natural life-rhythm that rhythm which Goethe, surely not by chance, charac- terized with the physiological concepts 'of cardiac activity. A rhythmical alternation of both forms of psychic activity may correspond with the normal course of life. But the complicated external conditions under which we live, as well as the presumably even more complex conditions of our individual psychic disposition, seldom permit a completely undisturbed flow of our psychic activity. Outer circumstances and inner disposition frequently favour the one mechanism, and restrict or hinder the other ; whereby a predominance of one mechanism natur- ally arises. If this condition becomes in any way chronic a type is produced, namely an habitual attitude, in which the one mechanism permanently dominates ; not, of course, that the other can ever be completely suppressed, inasmuch as it also is an integral factor in psychic activity. Hence, there can never occur a pure type in the sense that he is entirely possessed of the one mechanism with a complete atrophy of the other. A typical attitude always signifies the merely relative predominance of one mechanism. With the substantiation of introversion and extraver- sion an opportunity at once offered itself for the differentia- tion of two extensive groups of psychological individuals* But this grouping is of such a-, superficial and inclusive nature that it permits no more than a rather general dis- crimination. A more exact investigation of those indi- vidual psychologies which fall into either group at once yields great differences between individuals who none the less belong to the same group. If, therefore, we wish to determine wherein lie the differences of individuals belonging to a definite group, we must make a further step. My experience has taught me that individuals I 4 INTRODUCTION can quite generally be differentiated, not only by the universal difference of extra and introversion, but also according to individual basic psychological functions. For in the same measure as outer circumstances and inner disposition respectively promote a predominance of extra- version or introversion, they also favour the predominance of one definite basic function in the individual. As basic functions, i.e. functions which are both genuinely as well as essentially differentiated from other functions, there exist thinking^ feeling, sensation, and in- tuition. If one of these functions habitually prevails, a corresponding type results. I therefore discriminate thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuitive types. Every- one of these types can moreover be introverted or extr averted according to his relation to the object in the way described above. In two former communications 1 concerning psycho- logical types, I did not carry out the distinction outlined above, but identified the thinking type with the introvert and the feeling type with the extravert. A deeper elabora- tion of the problem proved this combination to be un- tenable. To avoid misunderstandings I would, therefore, ask the reader to bear in mind the distinction here de- veloped. In order to ensure the clarity which is essential in such complicated things, I have devoted the last chapter of this book to the definitions of my psychological conceptions. i Jung, Contribution it I'tfude des Types psychologiques (Arch, fa Psychologic I, xiii, p. 289) ; Psychological Typos (Collected Papers on Analytical Psychology, p. 287. London: Baiilifcre 1916) Psychology* for unbewussten Proxesse, 2te Aufl. p. 65 (Zurich 19x8). CHAPTER I THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN THE HISTORY OF CLASSICAL AND MEDIEVAL THOUGHT 1. Psychology in the Classical Age : The Gnostics, Tertullian, and Origen So long as the historical world has existed there has always been psychology; objective psychology, however, is of only recent growth. We might affirm of the science of former times that the lack of objective psychology corresponds with a proportionate yield of the subjective element. Hence the works of the ancients are full of psychology, but only little of it can be described as objective psychology. This may be conditioned in no small measure by the peculiarity of human relationship in classic and in medieval times. The ancients had, if one may so express it, an almost exclusively biological appreciation of their fellow-men; this is everywhere apparent in the habits of life and legal conditions of antiquity. In so far as a judgment of value found any general expression, the medieval world had a metaphysical valuation of its fellow- men ; this had its source in the idea of the imperishable value of the human soul. This meta- physical valuation, which may be regarded as a compensa- tion to the standpoint of antiquity, is just as unfavourable as the biological valuation, so far as that personal appraise- ment is concerned, which can alone be the groundwork of an objective psychology. There are indeed not a few who hold that a psychology can be written ex cathedra, 16 16 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY Nowadays, however, most of us are convinced that an objective psychology must above all be grounded upon observation and experience. This foundation would be ideal, if only it were possible. But the ideal and the purpose of science do not consist in giving the most exact possible description of facts science cannot yet compete with kinematographic and phonographic records it can fulfil its aim and purpose only in the establishment of law, which is merely an abbreviated expression for manifold and yet correlated processes. This purpose transcends the purely experimental by means of the concept, which, in spite of general and proved validity, will always be a product of the subjective psychological constellation of the investigator. In the making of scientific theory and concept much that is personal and incidental is involved. There is also a psychological personal equation, not merely a psycho-physical. We can see colours, but not wave-lengths. This well-known fact must nowhere be more seriously held in view than in psychology. The operation of the personal equation has already begun in the act of observation. One sees what one can best see from oneself. Thus, first and foremost, one sees the mote in one's brother's eye. No doubt the mote is there, but the beam sits in one's own, and may somewhat hinder the act of seeing. I misdoubt the principle of 'pure observation ' in so-called objective psychology, unless one confines oneself to the eye -pieces of the chronoscope, or to the ergograph and such-like " psychological " ap- paratus. With such methods one also ensures oneself against too great a yield of experimental psychological facts. But the personal psychological equation becomes even more important in the presentation or the communication of observations, to say nothing of the interpretation and abstraction of the experimental material! Nowhere, as PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 17 in psychology, is the basic requirement so indispensable that the observer and investigator should be adequate to his object, in the sense that he should be able to see not the subject only but also the object The demand that he should see only objectively is quite out of the question, for it is impossible. We may well be satisfied if we do not see too subjectively. That the subjective observation and interpretation agrees with the objective facts of the psycho- logical object is evidence for the interpretation only in so far as the latter makes no pretence to be universal, but intends to be valid only for that field of the object that is under consideration. To this extent it is just the beam in one's own eye that enables one to detect the mote in the brother's eye. The beam in one's own eye, in this case, does not prove (as already said) that the brother has no mote in his. But the impairment of vision might easily give rise to a general theory that all motes are beams. The recognition and taking to heart of the subjective limitation of knowledge in general, and of psychological knowledge in particular, is a basic condition for the scientific .and accurate estimation of a psyche differing from that of the observing subject This condition is fulfilled only when the observer is adequately informed concerning the compass and nature of his own personality. He can, however, be sufficiently informed only when he has in great measure freed himself from the compromising influence of collective opinion and feeling, and has thereby reached a dear conception of his own individuality. The further we go back into history the more we see personality disappearing beneath the wrappings of collec- tivity. And, if we go right down to primitive psychology, we find absolutely no trace of the idea of the individual. In place of individuality we find only collective relation- ship, or "participation mystique" (Lvy- Bruhl). But B 18 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY the collective attitude prevents the understanding and estimation of a psychology which differs from that of the subject, because the mind that is collectively orientated is quite incapable of thinking and feeling in any other way than by projection. What we understand by the concept individual 1 is a relatively recent acquisition in the history of the human mind and human culture. It is no wonder, therefore, that the earlier all-powerful collective attitude almost entirely prevented an objective psychological estimation of individual differences, and for- bade any general scientific objectification of individual psychological processes. It was owing to this very lack of psychological thinking that knowledge became ' psycho- logized ', i.e. crowded with projected psychology. Striking instances of this are to be seen in the first attempts at a philosophical explanation of the universe. The develop- ment of individuality, with the resulting psychological differentiation of man, goes hand in hand with a de- psychologizing of objective science. These reflections may explain why the springs of objective psychology have such a niggardly flow in the material handed down to us from antiquity. The descrip% tion of the four temperaments gathered from antiquity is hardly a psychological typification, since the tempera- ments are scarcely more than psycho - physiological complexions. But this lack of information does not mean that we possess no trace in classical literature of the reality of the psychological antitheses in question. Thus Gnostic philosophy established three types, corresponding perhaps with the three basic psychological functions : thinking, feeling, and sensation. The Pneumatici might correspond with thinking, the Psychici with feeling and the Hylici with sensation. The inferior estimation of the Psychici accorded with the spirit of the Gnosis, which in contrast with Christianity insisted upon the PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 19 value of knowledge. But the Christian principle of love and faith did not favour knowledge. The Pneumaticist would accordingly suffer a decline in value within the Christian sphere, in so far as he distinguished him- self merely by the possession of the Gnosis, i.e. know- ledge. Differences in type should also be remembered when we are considering the long and somewhat dangerous fight which from its earliest beginnings the Church con- ducted against the Gnosticism. In the practical tendency that undoubtedly prevailed in early Christianity, the intellectual, when, in obedience to his fighting instinct he did not lose himself in apologetic polemics, scarcely came into his own. The 'regula fidei' was too narrow and permitted no independent movement Moreover, it was poor in positive intellectual content. It contained a few ideas, which, although of enormous practical value, were a definite obstacle to thought The intellectual was much more hardly hit by the ' sacrificium intellectus ' than the man of feeling. Hence it is easy to understand that the vastly superior intellectual content of the Gnosis, which in the light of our present intellectual development has not only not lost but has indeed considerably gained in value, must have made the greatest possible appeal to the intellectual within the Church. For him it was in very sooth the enticement of the world. Docetism, in particular, caused grave trouble to the Church, with its contention that Christ possessed only an apparent body and that his whole earthly existence and passion had been merely a semblance. In this contention the purely intellectual was given too prominent a part at the expense of human feeling. Perhaps the battle with the Gnosis is most clearly presented to us in two figures who were extremely influential, not only as Fathers of the Church but also as personalities. These are Tertullian and Origen, who lived 20 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY about the end of the second century. Schultz says of them: " One organism is able to take in nourishment well - nigh omnivorously and to assimilate it to its own nature ; another with equal persistence rejects it again with every appearance of pas- sionate refusal. Thus essentially opposed, Origen identified himself with one side, Tertullian with the other. Their reaction to the Gnosis is not only characteristic of the two personalities and their philosophy of life ; it is also fundamentally significant of the position of the Gnosis in the mental life and religious tendencies of that time." (Dokumente der Gnosis, Jena 1910.) Tertullian was born in Carthage somewhere about 1 60 A.D. He was a pagan, and yielded himself to the lascivious life of his city until about his thirty-fifth year, when he became a Christian, He was the author of numerous writings, wherein his character, which is our especial interest, unmistakably shows itself. Clear and distinct are his unexampled, noble-hearted zeal, his fire, his passionate temperament, and the profound inwardness of his religious understanding. He is fanatical, ingeniously one-sided for the sake of an accepted truth, impatient, an incomparable fighting spirit, a merciless opponent, who sees victory only in the total annihilation of his adversary, and his speech is like a flashing steel wielded with inhuman mastery. He is the creator of the Church Latin which lasted for more than a thousand years. He it was who coined the terminology of the Early Church. " Had he seized upon a point of view, then must he follow it through to its every conclusion as though lashed by legions from hell, even when right had long since ceased to be on his side and all reasonable order lay mutilated before him." The passion of his thinking was so inexorable that again and again he alienated himself from the very thing for which he would have given his heart's blood. Accordingly his ethical code is bitter in its severity. Martyrdom he commanded to be sought and not shunned ; he permitted PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY ai no second marriage, and required the permanent veiling of persons of the female sex. The Gnosis, which in reality is a passion for thought and cognition, he attacked with unrelenting fanaticism, including both philosophy and science, which are so closely linked up with it. To him is ascribed the sublime confession : Credo quia absurdum est (I believe because it is against reason). This, however, does not altogether accord with historical fact ; he merely said (De Carne Christi, 5): "Et mortuus est dei filius, prorsus credibile est, quia ineptum est. Et sepultus resurrexit ; certum est quia impossibile est" (" And the Son of God died ; this is therefore credible, just because it is absurd. And He rose again from the tomb ; this is certain, because it is impossible".) By virtue of the acuteness of his mind he saw through the poverty of philosophic and of Gnostic learning, and contemptuously rejected it He invoked against it the testimony of his own inner world, his own inner realities, which were one with his faith. In the shaping and development of these realities he became the creator of those abstract conceptions which still under- lie the Catholic system of to-day. The irrational inner reality had for him an essentially dynamic nature ; it was his principle, his consolidated position in face of the world and the collectively valid or rational science and philosophy. I translate his o.wn words : " I summon a new witness, or rather a witness more known than any written monument, more debated than any system of life, more published abroad than any promulgation, greater than the whole of man, yea that which constitutes the whole man. Approach then, O my soul, should 1 st thou be something Divine and eternal, as many philosophers believe the less wflt thou tie or not wholly Divine, because mortal, as forsooth Epicurus alone contends then so much the less can'st thou lie whether thou comest from heaven or art born of earth, whether com- pounded of numbers or atoms, whether thou hast thy beginning with the body or art later joined thereto ; what matter indeed whence thou springest or how thou makest man what he is, namely a reasonable being, capable of perception and knowledge. 22 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY But I call thee not, O soul, as proclaiming wisdom, trained in the schools, conversant with libraries, fed and nourished in the academies and pillared halls of Attica. No, I would speak with thee, O soul, as wondrous simple and uneducated, awkward and inexperienced, such as thou art for those who have nothing else but thee, even just as thou comest from the alleys, from the street-corners and from the workshops. It is just thy ignorance I need." The self-mutilation achieved by Tertullian in the sacri- ficium intellectus led him to the unreserved recognition of the irrational inner reality, the real ground of his faith. That necessity of the religious process which he sensed in himself he seized in the incomparable formula " anima naturaliter Christiana " (" the soul is naturally Christian " ). With the sacrificium intellectus philosophy and science, hence the Gnosis also, had no more meaning for him. In the further course of his life the qualities I have depicted stood out in bolder relief. While the Church was driven to compromise more and more with the masses, he revolted against it and became a follower of that Phrygian prophet Montanus, an ecstatic, who represented the principle of absolute denial of the world and complete spiritualization. In violent pamphlets he now began to assail the policy of Pope Calixtus I, and thus, together with Montanism, fell more or less extra ecclesiam. Accord- ing to a statement of St Augustine he must, later even have rejected Montanism and founded a sect of his own. Tertullian is a classical representative of the introverted thinking type. His very considerable and keenly developed intellect is flanked by unmistakable sensuality. That psychological process of development which we term the Christian led him to the sacrifice, the amputation, of the most valuable function, a mythical idea which is also contained in the great and exemplary symbol of the sacrifice of the Son of God. His most valuable organ was the intellect, including that clear discernment of which it was the PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 33 instrument. Through the sacrificium intellectus, the way of purely intellectual development was forbidden him ; it forced him to recognize the irrational dynamis of his soul as the foundation of his being. The intellectuality of the Gnosis, its specifically rational coinage of the dynamic phenomena of the soul, must necessarily have been odious to him, for that was just the way he had to forsake, in order to recognize the principle of feeling. In Origen we may recognize the absolute opposite of Tertullian. Origen was born in Alexandria about 185. His father was a Christian martyr. He himself grew up in that quite unique mental atmosphere wherein the ideas of East and West mingled. With an intense yearning for knowledge he eagerly absorbed all that was worth know- ing, and accepted everything, whether Christian, Jewish, Grecian, or Egyptian, which at that time the teeming intellectual world of Alexandria offered him. He dis- tinguished himself as a teacher in a school of catechists. The pagan philosopher Porphyrius, a pupil of Plotinus, said of him : " His outer life was that of a Christian and against the Law; but in his view of things phenomenal and divine he was a Hellenist, and substituted the con- ception of the Greeks for the foreign myths." Already before A.D. 211 his self-castration had taken place ; his inner motives for this may indeed be guessed, but historically; they are not known to us. Personally he was of great influence, and had a winning speech. He was constantly surrounded by pupils and a whole host of stenographers who gathered up the precious words that fell from the revered master's lips. As an author he was extraordinarily fertile and he developed an amazing academic activity. In Antioch he even delivered lectures on theology to the Emperor's mother Mammaea. In Caesarea he was the head of a school. His teaching activities were considerably interrupted by his extensive 24 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY journeyings. He possessed extraordinary scholarship and had an astounding capacity for the investigation oi things in general. He hunted up old Bible manuscripts and earned special merit for his textual criticism. "He was a great scholar, indeed the only true scholar the ancient Church possessed", says Harnack. In complete contrast to Tertullian, Origen did not bar the door against the influence of Gnosticism ; in fact he even transferred it, in attenuated form, into the bosom of the Church ; such at least was his aim. Indeed, judging by his thought and fundamental views, he was himself almost a Christian Gnostic. His position in regard to faith and knowledge is portrayed by Harnack in the following psychologically significant words : " The Bible, in like wise, is needful to both : the believers receive from it the realities and commandments which they need, while the scholars decipher thoughts therein and gather from it that power which guideth them to the contemplation and love of God whereby all material things, through spiritual interpreta- tion (allegorical exegesis, henneneutics), seem to be re-cast into a cosmos of ideas, until all is at last surmounted in the 'ascent' and left behind as stepping stones, while only this remaineth : the blessed abiding relationship of the God-created creature-soul to God (amor et visio)." His theology as distinguished from Tertullian's was essentially philosophical ; it was thoroughly pressed, so to speak, into the frame of a neo- Platonic philosophy. In Origen the two spheres of Grecian philosophy and the Gnosis on the one hand, and the world of Christian ideas on the other, peacefully and harmoniously intermingle. But this daring, intelligent tolerance and sense of justice also led Origen to the fate of condemnation by the Church. The final condemnation, to be sure, only took place posthumously, when Origen as an old man had been tortured in the persecution of the Christians by Decius, and had died not long after from the effects of the torture. In 399 Pope Anastasias I pronounced the condemnation, PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 25 and in 543 his heresy was anathematized by a synod convoked by Justinian, which judgment was upheld by later Councils. Origen is a classical example of the extraverted type. His basic orientation is towards the object; this shows itself in his conscientious consideration of objective facts and their conditions ; it is also revealed in the formulation of that supreme principle: amor et visio Dei. The Christian process of development encountered in Origen a type whose bed-rock foundation is the relation to the object ; a type that has ever symbolically expressed itself in sexuality ; which also accounts for the fact that there even exist to-day certain theories which reduce every essential function of the soul down to sexuality. Castra- tion is therefore the adequate expression of the sacrifice of the most valuable function. It is entirely characteristic that Tertullian should perform the sacrificium intellectus, whereas Origen is led to the sacrificium phalli, since the Christian process demands a complete abolition of the sensual hold upon the object, in other words : it demands the sacrifice of the hitherto most valued function, the dearest possession, the strongest instinct Considered biologically, the sacrifice is brought into the service of domestication, but psychologically it opens a door for new possibilities of development to be inaugurated through the liberation from old ties. Tertullian sacrificed the intellect, because it was that which most strongly bound him to worldliness. He battled with the Gnosis because for him it represented the side-track into the intellectual, which at the same time involves also sensuality. Parallel with this fact we find that in reality Gnosticism was also divided into two schools: one school striving after a spirituality that exceeded all bounds, the other losing itself in an ethical anarchism, an absolute libertinism that shrank from no B* 26 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY lechery however atrocious and perverse. One must definitely distinguish between the Encratites (continent) and the Antitactes or Antinomians (opposed to order and law), who in obedience to certain doctrines sinned on principle and purposefully gave themselves to unbridled debauchery. To the latter school belong the Nicolaitans, the Archontici, etc., and the aptly named Borborites. How closely the apparent antitheses lay side by side is shewn by the example of the Archontici, for this same sect divided into an Encratitic and an Antinomian school, both of which remained logical and consistent If anyone wants to know what are the ethical results of a bold intellectualism carried out on a large scale, let him study the history of Gnostic morals. He will thoroughly under- stand the sacrificium intellectus. These people were also practically consistent and lived what they had conceived even to absurd lengths. But Origen, in the mutilation of himself, sacrificed the sensual hold upon the world. For him, evidently, the intellect was not so much a specific danger as feeling and sensation with their enchainment to the object. Through castration he freed himself from the sensuality that was coupled with Gnosticism; he could then yield himself unafraid to the riches of Gnostic thought, while Tertullian through his sacrifice of intellect turned away from the Gnosis, but thereby reached a depth of religious feeling that we miss in Origen. " In one way he was superior to Origen ", says Schultz, " because in his deepest soul he lived every one of his words ; it was not reason that carried him away, like the other, but the heart. But in another respect he stands far behind him, inasmuch as he, the most passionate of all thinkers, was on the verge of rejecting knowledge altogether, for his battle against the Gnosis was tantamount to a complete denial of human thought" We see here how, in the Christian process, the original PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 27 type has actually become reversed : Tertullian, the acute thinker, becomes the man of feeling, while Origen becomes the scholar and loses himself in the intellect Logically, of course, it is quite easy to reverse the state of affairs and to say that Tertullian had always been the man of feeling and Origen the intellectual. Disregarding the fact that the difference of type is not done away with by this procedure, but exists as before, the reversed point of view has still to be explained ; how comes it that Tertullian saw his most dangerous enemy in the intellect, while Origen in sexuality? One could say they were both deceived, and one could advance the fatal result of both lives by way of argument. One must assume, if that were the case, that both had sacrificed the less im- portant thing, and thus to a certain extent both had made a bargain with fate. That is also a view which contains a principle of recognizable validity. Are there not just such sly-boots among the primitives who approach their fetish with a black hen under the arm. saying: "See, here is thy sacrifice, a beautiful black pig." I am, however, of opinion that the depreciatory method of explanation, notwithstanding the unmistakable relief which the ordinary human being feels in dragging down something great, is not under all circumstances the correct one, even though it may appear to be very ' bio- logical/ But from what we can personally know of these two great ones in the realm of the mind, we must say that their whole nature and quality had such sincerity that their Christian conversion was neither a fraudulent enterprise nor mere deceit, but had both reality and truthfulness. We shall not lose ourselves upon a by-path if we take this opportunity of trying to grasp what is the psychological meaning of this breaking of the natural instinctive course (which is what the Christian process of sacrifice seems to 28 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY be). From what has been said above it follows that conversion signifies also a transition to another attitude. It is further clear whence the impelling motive towards conversion arises, and how far Tertullian was right in conceiving the soul as "naturaliter Christiana." The natural, instinctive course, like everything in nature, follows the principle of least resistance. One man is rather more gifted here, another there ; or, again, adapta- tion to the early environment of childhood may demand either relatively more restraint and reflection or relatively more sympathy and participation, according to the nature of the parents and other circumstances. Thereby a certain preferential attitude is automatically moulded, which results in different types. In so far then as every man, as a relatively stable being, possesses all the basic psychological functions, it would be a psychological necessity with a view to perfect adaptation that he should also employ them in equal measure. For there must be a reason why there are different ways of psychological adaptation : evidently one alone is not sufficient, since the object seems to be only partially comprehended when, for example, it is either merely thought or merely felt. Through a one- sided (typical) attitude there remains a deficit in the resulting psychological adaptation, which accumulates during the course of life ; from this deficiency a derange- ment of adaptation develops, which forces the subject towards a compensation. But the compensation can be obtained only by means of amputation (sacrifice) of the hitherto one-sided attitude. Thereby a temporary heaping up of energy results and an overflow into channels hitherto not consciously used though already existing unconsciously. The adaptation deficit, which is the causa efficiens of the process of conversion, becomes subjectively perceived as a vague sense of dissatisfaction. Such an atmosphere prevailed at the turning-point of our era, A quite PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 29 astonishing need of redemption came over mankind, and brought about that unheard-of efflorescence of every sort of possible and impossible cult in ancient Rome. More- over, representatives of the 'living the full life/ theory were not wanting, who, albeit innocent of 'biology,' operated with similar arguments founded on the science of that day. They, too, could never be done with specula- tions as to why it is that mankind is in such a poor way ; only the causalism of that day, as compared with the science of ours, was somewhat less restricted; their 'harking back' reached far beyond childhood to cos- mogony, and many systems were devised that pointed to all sorts of events in remote antiquity as being the source of insufferable consequences for mankind. The sacrifice that Tertullian and Origen carried out is drastic too drastic for our taste but it corresponded with the spirit of that time, which was thoroughly concret- istic. In harmony with this spirit the Gnosis simply took its visions as real, or at least as bearing directly upon reality, hence for Tertullian there was an objective validity in the realities of his feeling. Gnosticism pro- jected the subjective inner perception of the attitude- changing process into the form of a cosmogonic system, and believed in the reality of its psychological figures. In my book Psychology of the Unconscious^ I left the whole question open as to the origin of the libido course peculiar to the Christian process. I spoke of a splitting of the libido into halves, each directed against the other. The explanation for this is to be found in the one-sided- ness of the psychological attitude growing so extreme that the need for compensation became urgent on the side of the unconscious. It is precisely the Gnostic movement in the early Christian centuries which most clearly demon- * Translated by Dr B. M. Hinkle (London : Kegan Paul & Co 19x9 ; new edn. 1921). 28 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY be). From what has been said above it follows that conversion signifies also a transition to another attitude. It is further clear whence the impelling motive towards conversion arises, and how far Tertullian was right in conceiving the soul as " naturaliter Christiana." The natural, instinctive course, like everything in nature, follows the principle of least resistance. One man is rather more gifted here, another there ; or, again, adapta- tion to the early environment of childhood may demand either relatively more restraint and reflection or relatively more sympathy and participation, according to the nature of the parents and other circumstances. Thereby a certain preferential attitude is automatically moulded, which results in different types. In so far then as every man, as a relatively stable being, possesses all the basic psychological functions, it would be a psychological necessity with a view to perfect adaptation that he should also employ them in equal measure. For there must be a reason why there are different ways of psychological adaptation : evidently one alone is not sufficient, since the object seems to be only partially comprehended when, for example, it is either merely thought or merely felt. Through a one- sided (typical) attitude there remains a deficit in the resulting psychological adaptation, which accumulates during the course of life ; from this deficiency a derange- ment of adaptation develops, which forces the subject towards a compensation. But the compensation can be obtained only by means of amputation (sacrifice) of the hitherto one-sided attitude. Thereby a temporary heaping up of energy results and an overflow into channels hitherto not consciously used though already existing unconsciously. The adaptation deficit, which is the causa efficiens of the process of conversion, becomes subjectively perceived as a vague sense of dissatisfaction. Such an atmosphere prevailed at the turning-point of our era. A quite PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 29 astonishing need of redemption came over mankind, and brought about that unheard-of efflorescence of every sort of possible and impossible cult in ancient Rome. More- over, representatives of the 'living the full life/ theory were not wanting, who, albeit innocent of 'biology/ operated with similar arguments founded on the science of that day. They, too, could never be done with specula- tions as to why it is that mankind is in such a poor way ; only the causalism of that day, as compared with the science of ours, was somewhat less restricted; their 'harking back* reached far beyond childhood to cos- mogony, and many systems were devised that pointed to all sorts of events in remote antiquity as being the source of insufferable consequences for mankind. The sacrifice that Tertullian and Origen carried out is drastic too drastic for our taste but it corresponded with the spirit of that time, which was thoroughly concret- istic. In harmony with this spirit the Gnosis simply took its visions as real, or at least as bearing directly upon reality, hence for Tertullian there was an objective validity in the realities of his feeling. Gnosticism pro- jected the subjective inner perception of the attitude- changing process into the form of a cosmogonic system, and believed in the reality of its psychological figures. In my book Psychology of the Unconscious^ I left the whole question open as to the origin of the libido course peculiar to the Christian process. I spoke of a splitting of theJibido into halves, each directed against the other. The explanation for this is to be found in the one-sided- ness of the psychological attitude growing so extreme that the need for compensation became urgent on the side of the unconscious. It is precisely the Gnostic movement in the early Christian centuries which most clearly demon- i Translated by Dr B. M. Hinkle (London : Kegan Paul & Co 19x9 ; new edn. 1921). 30 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY strates the outbreak of unconscious contents in the moment of compensation. Christianity itself signified the demolition and sacrifice of the cultural values of antiquity, fa. of the classical attitude. As regards the problem of the present, it need hardly be said that it is quite indifferent whether we speak of to-day or of that age two thousand years ago. 2. The Theological Disputes of the Ancient Church It is more than probable that the contrast of types would also appear in the history of those schisms and heresies so frequent in the disputes of the early Christian Church. The Ebionites or Jewish Christians, who in this respect were probably identical with the primitive Christians generally, believed in the exclusive humanity of Christ and held him to be the son of Mary and Joseph, only subsequently receiving his consecration through the Holy Ghost. The Ebionites are, therefore, upon this point diametrically opposed to the Docetists. The effects of this opposition endured long after. The conflict came to light again in an altered form which, though essenti- ally attenuated, had in reality an even graver effect upon Church politics about the year 320 in the heresy of Arius. Arius denied the formula propounded by the orthodox church T ILarpi opoova-iog (like unto the Father). When we examine more closely the history of the great Arian controversy concerning Homoousia and Homoiousia (the complete identity as against the essential similarity of Christ with God), it certainly seems to us that the formula of Homoiousia definitely lays the accent upon the sensuous and humanly perceptible, in contrast to the purely conceptual and abstract standpoint of Homoousia. In the same way it would appear to us, as though the revolt of the Monophysites (who upheld the absolute one-ness of the nature of Christ) against the Dyophysitic formula of the Council of Chalcedon (which upheld the PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 31 inseparable duality of Christ, namely his human and divine nature fashioned in one body) once more asserted the standpoint of the abstract and unimaginable as opposed to the sensuous and natural viewpoint of the Dyophysitic formula. At the same time the fact becomes overwhelmingly clear to us that alike in the Arian move- ment as in the Monophysite dispute, the subtle dogmatic question, though indeed the main issue for those minds where it originally came to light, had no hold upon the vast majority who took part in the quarrel of dogmas. So subtle a question had even at that time no motive force with the mass, stirred as it was by problems and claims of political power that had nothing to do with differences of theological opinion. If the difference of types had any significance at all here, it was merely because it provided catch-words that gave a flattering label to the crude instincts of the mass. But in no way should this blind one to the fact that, for those who had kindled the quarrel, Homoousia and Homoiousia were a very serious matter. For concealed therein, both historically and psychologically, lay the Ebionitic creed of a purely human Christ with only a relative (" apparent ") divinity, and the Docetist creed of a' purely divine Christ with only apparent corporeality. And beneath this level again lies the great psychological schism. The one position holds that supreme value and importance lie in the sensuously perceptible, where the subject, though indeed not always human and personal, is nevertheless always a projected human sensation; while the other maintains that the chief value lies in the abstract and extra-human, of which the subject is the function ; in other words in the objective process of Nature, that runs its course determined by impersonal law, beyond human sensation, of which it is the actual foundation. The former stand- point overlooks the function in favour of the function- 32 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY complex, if man can be so regarded ; the latter standpoint overlooks the individual as the indispensable controlling vehicle in favour of the function. Both standpoints mutually deny each other their chief value. The more resolutely the representatives of either standpoint identify themselves with their own point of view, the more do they mutually strive, with the best intentions perhaps, to obtrude their own standpoint and thereby violate the other's chief value. Another aspect of the type-antithesis appears on the scene in the Pelagian controversy in the beginning of the fifth century. The experience so profoundly sensed by Tertullian, that man cannot avoid sin even after baptism, grew with St Augustine who in many respects is not unlike Tertullian into that thoroughly characteristic pessimistical doctrine of original sin, whose essence con sists in the concupiscentia 1 inherited from Adam. Over against the fact of original sin there stood, according to St Augustine, the redeeming grace of God, with the institution of the church ordained by His grace to administer the means of salvation. In this conception the value of man stands very low. He is really nothing but a miserable rejected creature, who is delivered over to the devil under all circumstances, unless through the medium of the church, the sole means of salvation, he is made a participator of the divine grace. Therewith, to a greater or less degree, not only man's value but also his moral freedom and self-government crumbled away ; as a result, the value and importance of the church as an idea was so much the more enhanced, corresponding to the expressed programme in the Augustinian civitas Dei. Against such a stifling conception, springing ever anew, i Cupidity. We would rather say : untamed libido, which as clfutpfj^nj (rule of the stars, or fate) led man into wrong-doing and destruction. PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 33 rises the feeling of the freedom and moral value of man ; it is a feeling that will not long endure suppression whether by inspection however searching, or logic however keen. The justice of the feeling of human value found its advocates in Pelagius, a British monk, and Caelestius, his pupil. Their teaching was grounded upon the moral freedom of man as a given fact It is significant of the psychological kinship existing between the Pelagian standpoint and the Dyophysitic view that the persecuted Pelagians found asylum with Nestorius, the Metropolitan of Constantinople. Nestorius emphasized the separation of the two natures of Christ in contrast to the Cyrillian doctrine of the 4>vcriKT] Sw^ny, the physical one-ness of Christ as God-man. Also, Nestorius definitely did not wish Mary to be understood as Oearoicos (Mother of God), but only as xp l < rrOT KO * (Miother of Christ). With some justification he even called the idea that Mary was Mother of God heathenish. From him originated the Nestorian controversy, which finally ended with the secession of the Nestorian church. 3. The Problem, of Transubstantiation With those immense political upheavals, the collapse of the Roman Empire and the sinking of antique civiliza- tion, these controversies lapsed likewise into oblivibn. But, as in the course of many centuries a certain stability was again reached, psychological differences also re- appeared, tentatively at first but becoming ever iriore intense with advancing civilisation. No longer indeed was it those problems wWch had brought the ancient church into confusion; new forms had come to light, under which however the same psychology was concealed About the middle of the ninth century the Abbot Paschasius Radbertus appeared with a writing upon the Holy Communion, in which he advanced the doctrine of 34 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY transubstantiation, t.e. the view that the wine and holy wafer become transformed in the Communion into the actual blood and body of Christ As is well-known, this conception became a dogma, according to which the transformation is accomplished "vere, realiter, sub- stantialiter " (" in truth, in reality, in substance ") ; although the ' accidentals ' preserve their outer aspect of bread and wine, they are substantially the flesh and the blood of Christ. Against this extreme concretization of a symbol Ratramnus, a monk of the same monastery in which Radbertus was abbot, dared to raise a certain opposition. Radbertus, however, found a more resolute adversary in Scotus Erigena, one of the great philosophers and daring thinkers of the early Middle Ages ; who, as Hase says in his History of the Churchy stood so high and solitary above his time that the anathema of the Church reached him only after centuries. As Abbot of Malmesbury, he was butchered by his own monks about the year 889. Scotus Erigena, to whom true philosophy was also true religion, was no blind follower of authority and the * once accepted ' ; because, unlike the majority of his age, he could himself think. He set reason above authority, very unseasonably perhaps but in a way that assured him of the recognition of the later centuries. Even the Fathers of the Church, who were considered to be above discussion, he held as authorities only in so far as their writings contained treasures of human reason. Thus he also held that the Communion is merely a commemoration of that Last Supper which Jesus celebrated with his disciples ; a view in which the reasonable man of every age will, moreover, participate. But Scotus Erigena, although clear and humanly simple in his thoughts and little disposed to detract from the meaning and value of the sacred ceremony, was not at one with the spirit of his time and the desires of the world around him ; a fact that might, indeed, be PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 35 inferred from his betrayal and assassination by his own comrades of the cloister. Because he could think reasonably and consistently success did not come to him ; instead, it fell to Radbertus, who assuredly could not think, but who ' transubstantiated ' the symbolical and meaningful, making it coarse and sensuous : in so doing he clearly chimed in with the spirit of his time, which craved for the concretizing of religious occurrences. Again, in this controversy one can easily recognise those basic elements which we have already met with in the disputes commented upon earlier, namely, the abstract standpoint that is averse from any intercourse with the concrete object and the concretistic, that is, turned to the object. Far be it from us to pronounce, from the intellectual view-point, a one-sided, depreciatory judgment upon Rad- bertus and his achievement. Although to the modern mind this dogma must' appear simply absurd, w;e must not be misled on that account into regarding it as historic- ally worthless. It is, indeed, a showpiece for every collection of human errors, but its worthlessness is not therefore eo ipso established; before passing judgment, we must minutely investigate what this dogma effected in the religious life of those centuries, and what our age still indirectly owes to its operation. It must, for instance not be overlooked, that it is precisely the belief in the reality of this miracle that demanded a release of the psychic process from the purely sensuous ; and this cannot remain without influence upon the nature of the psychic process. The process of directed thinking, for instance, becomes absolutely impossible when the sensuous holds too high a threshold value. By virtue of too high a value it constantly invades the psyche, where it disintegrates and destroys the function of directed thinking based as this is precisely upon the exclusion of the unsuitable. 36 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY From this elementary consideration there immediately follows the practical importance of those rites and dogmas which hold their ground both from this standpoint as well as from a purely opportunist, biological way of thinking ; to say nothing of the direct specific religious impressions which came to individuals from belief in this dogma. Highly as we esteem Scotus Erigena, the less is it per- mitted to despise the achievement of Radbertus. We may, however, learn from this example, that the thought of the introvert is incommensurable with the thought of the extravert, since the two thought-forms, as regards their determinants, are wholly and fundamentally different. One might perhaps say : the thinking of the introvert is rational, while that of the extravert is programmaticaL These arguments and this I wish particularly to emphasize do not pretend to be in any way decisive with regard to the individual psychology of the two authors. What we know of Scotus Erigena personally it is little enough is not sufficient to enable us to make any sure diagnosis of his type. What we do know speaks in favour of the introversion type. Of Radbertus we know next to nothing. We know only that he said something that ran counter to common human thought, but with surer feeling- logic he divined what his age was prepared to accept as suitable. This fact would speak in favour of the extra- version type. We must, however, through our insufficient knowledge, suspend judgment upon both personalities, since, especially with Radbertus, the matter might quite well be decided differently. Equally might he have been an introvert, but with a level of intelligence that altogether failed to rise above the conceptions of his milieu, and with a logic so lacking in originality that it merely sufficed to draw an obvious conclusion from already prepared premises in the writings of the Fathers. And, vice versa, Scotus Erigena might as well have been an extravert, if it could PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 37 be shown that he was carried by a milieu which in any case was distinguished by common sense and which felt a corresponding expression to be suitable and desirable. The latter is in no sort of way proved concerning Scotus Erigena. But on the other hand we do know how great was the yearning of that time for the reality of the religious miracle. To this character of that age the view of Scotus Erigena must have seemed cold and deadening, whilst the assertion of Radbertus must have been alive with a sense of promise, since it concretized what every man desired. 4. Nominalism and Realism The Holy Communion controversy of the ninth century was merely the anacrusis of a much greater strife that for centuries severed the minds of men and embraced immeasurable consequences. This was the opposition between nominalism and realism. By nominalism one understands that school which asserted that the so-called universalia, namely the generic or universal concepts, such as beauty, goodness, animal, man, etc., are nothing but nomina (names) or words, derisively called " flatus vocis". Anatole France says : " Et qu'est-ce que penser? Et comment pense-t-on? Nous pensons avec des mots songez-y, un m6taphysicien n'a, pour constituer le systfeme du monde, que le cri perfection^ des singes et des chiens." This is extreme nominalism ; so with Nietzsche when he conceives reason as " speech metaphysics ". Realism, on the contrary, affirms the existence of the universalia ante rem, namely, that the universal concepts have existence in themselves after the manner of the Platonic ideas. Despite its ecclesiastical association, nominalism is a sceptical current which denies that separate existence which is characteristic of the abstract It is a 38 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY kind of scientific scepticism within a quite rigid dogmatism. Its concept of reality necessarily coincides with the sensuous reality of things ; it is the individuality of things which represents the real as opposed to the abstract idea. Strict realism, on the contrary, transfers the accent of reality to the abstract, the idea, the universal, which it places ante rem (before the thing). (a) The Problem of the Universalia in the Classical Age As is shown by the reference to the Platonic ideology, we are discussing a conflict that reaches very far back. Certain venomous remarks in Plato concerning "grey- beards and belated scholars" and "the poor in spirit' hint at the representatives of two allied schools oi philosophy which agreed ill. with the Platonic spirit, namely the Cynics and the Megarians. Antisthenes, the representative of the former school, although by no means remote from the Socratic mental atmosphere and even a friend of Xenophon, was nevertheless avowedly ill- disposed to Plato's beautiful world of ideas. He even wrote a pamphlet against Plato, in which he offensively converted Plato's name to 2a0o>j/. 2o0ew/ means boy or man, but from the sexual aspect, since o-dQw comes from o-dOfi, penis; whereby Antisthenes, in the well- known manner of projection, delicately suggests to us upon what matters he has a grudge against Plato. As we have seen, this was also for Origen, the Christian, the 'other' prime-cause (Auch-Urgrund), that very devil whom he sought to lay hold of by means of self-castration, in order to pass over without impediment into the richly embellished world of ideas. But Antisthenes was a pre- Christian pagan, to whom that thing was still of profound interest for which the phallus since earliest times has stood as the acknowledged symbol, namely sensation in its most liberal sense; not that he was alone in this interest, for PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 39 as we well know it concerned the whole Cynic school, whose Leitmotiv was: back to nature 1 The reasons which might push Antasthenes' concrete feeling and sensation into the foreground were by no means few ; he was before everything a proletarian, who made a virtue of his envy. He was no iflayewfc, no thorough-bred Greek : he was of the periphery; moreover, his teaching was carried on outside, before the gates of Athens, where he devoted himself to the study of proletarian behaviour, a model of Cynic philosophy. Furthermore, the whole school was composed of proletarians, or at least " peripheral" people, all of whom were in themselves a demolishing criticism of traditional values. After Antisthenes one of the most outstanding representatives of the school was Diogenes, who conferred upon himself the title Kwi/ (Dog); his tomb was also adorned by a dog in Parian marble. Despite his warm love of man, for his whole nature irradiated a wealth of human understanding, he none the less ruthlessly satirized everything that men of his time held sacred. He ridiculed the horror that gripped the spectators in the theatre at sight of the Thyestian repast \ or the incest tragedy of CEdipus ; anthropophagy was not so bad, since human flesh can lay no claim to an exceptional position as against other flesh, and furthermore the misfortune of an incestuous relationship was by no means such a grave evil, as the illuminating example of our domestic animals proves to us. In various respects the Megarian school was allied to the Cynics. Was not Megara the unhappy rival of Athens? After a most promising start, in which Megara had risen to prominence through the founding of Byzantium and the Hyblaeaic Megara in Sicily, internal squabbles broke out, from which i Thyestes, son of Pelops, in the course of a struggle for the kingdom with his brother Atreus, was given unknown to himself the flesh of his own children to eat. [Translator] 40 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY Megara soon wasted and fell away, and in every respect became outstripped by Athens. Loutish peasant wit was called in Athens: 'Megarian jesting*. From this envy, which in a defeated race is imbibed with the mother's milk, not a little might be explained that is characteristic of Megarian philosophy. Like the Cynic, this philosophy was thoroughly nominalistic and directly opposed to the realism of Plato's ideology. A prominent representative of this school was Stilpon of Megara, about whom the following characteristic anecdote is related : Stilpon came one day to Athens and saw upon the Acropolis the wondrous statue of Pallas Athene made by Phidias. A true Megarian, he observed, it is not the daughter of Zeus, but of Phidias. In this jest the whole of the Megarian thought is expressed, for Stilpon taught that generic concepts are without reality or objective validity ; who, therefore, speaks of man speaks of nobody, because he designates "oure roVoth instinctive as well as ego-tendencies. It is not difficult for the man who adopts the standpoint of instinct to discover in them the "wish-fulfilment", the " infantile wish ", and " repressed sexuality ". But the man who judges from the standpoint of the ego can just as easily discover those elementary aims concerned with the safeguarding and differentiation of the ego, since phantasies are intermediary products between the ego and the general instinct They accordingly contain elements of both sides. 8o PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY Interpretation from either side is always, therefore, some- what forced and arbitrary, because one character is always suppressed. Nevertheless, a demonstrable truth does on the whole appear ; but it is only a partial truth, which can make no claim to general validity. Its validity extends just so far as the range of its principle. But in the province of other principles it is invalid. The Freudian psychology is characterized by one central idea, namely the repression of incompatible wish-tendencies. Man appears as a bundle of wishes which are only partially adaptable to the object. His neurotic difficulties consist in the fact that milieu-influences, educational and objective conditions, are a considerable check upon a free expression of instinct. Influences are derived from father and mother, either morally hindering or infantile, which tend to produce fixations that compromise later life. The original instinc- tive constitution is an unalterable quantity which suffers disturbing modifications mainly through objective influ- ences ; hence the most untrammelled possible expression of instinct towards the suitably chosen object would appear to be the needful remedy. Conversely, Adler's psychology is characterized by the central idea of ego-superiority. The individual appears pre-eminently as an ego-point which must under no circumstances be subjected to the object. While with Freud the craving for the object, the fixation to the object, and the impossible nature of certain desires towards the object play an important rdle, with Adler everything aims at the superiority of the subject Freud's repression of instinct towards the object becomes with . Adler the safe-guarding of the subject. With him the healing remedy is the removal of the isolating safe-guard ; with Freud it is the removal of the repression that renders the object inaccessible. Hence with Freud the basic formula is sexuality., which expresses the strongest relation between subject and object ; with Adler it is that power of PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 81 the subject which most effectively ensures him against the object, and gives to the subject an unassailable isolation which amputates every relation. Freud would vouchsafe the instincts an unfettered excursion towards their objects* But Adler would break through the inimical spell of the object, in order to deliver the ego from suffocation in its own defensive armour. The former view must therefore be essentially extraverted, while the latter is introverted. The extraverted theory holds good for the extraverted type, while the introverted theory is valid only for the introverted type. In so far as the pure type is a quite one-sided product of development, it is also necessarily unbalanced. Over-emphasis upon the one function is synonymous with repression of the other. Psycho-analysis fails to resolve this repression just in . so far as the particular method applied is orientated according to the theory of its own type. Thus the extra- vert, in accordance with his theory, will reduce his phantasies, as they emerge from the unconscious, to their instinct content. But the introvert will reduce them to his power-tendency. The gain accruing from such analysis goes to the already existing predominance. This kind of analysis, therefore, merely intensifies the already existing type, and by such means no mutual understanding or mediation between the types is made possible. On the contrary, the gap is widened, both without and within. An inner dissociation arisqs, because fragments of other functions, occasionally arising to the surface in unconscious phantasies (dreams,etc.) are depreciated and again repressed. On these grounds a certain critic was in a measure justified when he described Freud's as a neurotic theory ; but the truth of the statement cannot justify a certain malevolence in expression which only serves to absolve one from the duty of serious concentration upon the problems raised. The standpoints both of Freud and of Adler are equally D 8* PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY one-sided and are, therefore, characteristic of only one type. Both theories reject the principle of imagination, since they reduce phantasies and treat them as a merely semiotic 1 expression. But in reality phantasies mean more than that, for they represent also the other mechan- ism. Thus with the introverted type they represent repressed extraversion, and with the extraverted repressed introversion. But the repressed function is unconscious, hence, undeveloped, embryonic, and archaic. In this condition it is not to be reconciled with the higher niveau of the conscious function. The inacceptable nature of phantasy is principally derived from this peculiarity of the unrecognised function-root. Imagination, for everyone to whom adaptation to ex- ternal reality is the leading principle, is for these reasons something objectionable and useless. And yet we know that every good idea and all creative work is the offspring of the imagination, and has its source in what one is pleased to term infantile phantasy. It is not the artist alone, but every creative individual whatsoever who owes all that is greatest in his life to phantasy. The dynamic principle of phantasy is *playl which belongs also to the child, and as such it appears to be inconsistent with the principle of serious work. But without this playing with phantasy no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalcul- able. It is therefore short-sighted to treat phantasy, on account of its daring or inacceptable character, as of small account It must not be forgotten that it is just in the imagination that the most valuable promise of a man may i I say " semiotic " in contradistinction to " symbolic ". What Freud terms symbols are no more than signs for elementary instinctive processes. But a symbol is the best possible expression for an actual matter of fact, which nevertheless cannot be expressed except by a more or less close analogy. PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 83 lie. I say may advisedly, because on the other hand phantasies are also valueless, since in the form of raw material they possess no sort of realizable worth. In order to unearth the valuable treasure they contain, a develop- ment is needed. But this development is not achieved by a simple analysis of the phantasy material ; a synthetic treatment is also needed by means of a constructive method 1 . It remains an open question whether the opposition between the two standpoints can ever be satisfactorily adjusted intellectually. Although in one sense Ab&ard's attempt must be profoundly respected, yet practically no consequences worth mentioning have matured from it ; for he was able to establish no mediatory psychological function beyond conceptualism or sermonism, which is merely a revised edition, altogether one-sided and intel- lectual, of the ancient Logos conception. The Logos, as a mediator, had of course this advantage over the sermo, inasmuch as in His 2 human manifestation He also did justice to non-intellectual aspirations. I cannot, however, rid myself of the impression that Abflard's brilliant mind, which so fully grasped the great Yea and Nay, would never have remained satisfied with his paradoxical conceptualism, thus renouncing all claim to creative effort, if the impelling force of passion had not been lost to him through the tragedy of fate. In con- firmation of this idea we need only compare conceptualism w'lh the way in which the great Chinese philosophers Lao-Tse and Tschuang-Tse, as also the poet Schiller, con- fronted this problem. i Cl. Jung, Collected Papers : Content of the Psychoses, Idem, Psychology of Unconscious Processes. * Logos appearing in human form as Christ the Son of God. 84 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 6. The Holy Communion Controversy between Luther and Zwingli Of the later antagonisms which stirred men's minds Protestantism and the Reformation movement should really receive our first consideration. Only this phenomenon is of such complexity that it must first be resolved into many separate psychological processes before it can become an object for analytical elucidation. But that lies outside my province. I must therefore content myself by selecting a single case from that great arena, namely the Holy Communion controversy between Luther and Zwingli. The transubstantiation dogma, already mentioned, was sanctioned by the Lateran Council of 1215, and from that time formed an established article of faith ; in which form Luther himself grew up. Although the notion that a ceremony and its concrete practice can have an objective redeeming value is really quite unevangelical, since the evangelical movement was actually directed against Catholic institutions, Luther was nevertheless unable to free himself from the immediately effective sensuous impression in the taking of bread and wine. He perceived in it not merely a token, but the actual sensuous reality with its contingent and immediate experience; these were for him an indispensable religious necessity. He therefore claimed the actual presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Communion. " In and beneath " bread and wine he received the body and the blood of Christ. For him the religious meaning of the immediate objective experience was so great that his imagination was spell-bound by the concretism of the material presence of the sacred body. All his attempts at explanation are, therefore, under the spell of this fact : the body of Christ is present, albeit ' non-spatially '. According to the so- called doctrine of consubstantiation the actual substance PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY 85 of the sacred body was also really present beside the substance of the bread and wine. The ubiquity of Christ's body, which this assumption postulated, an idea involving considerable distress to human intelligence, was indeed substituted by the concept of volipresence, which means that God is everywhere present, where He wills to be. But Luther, untroubled by all these difficulties, held un- flinchingly to the immediate experience of the sensuous impression and preferred to assuage all the scruples of human reason with explanations which were either absurd or at the best quite unsatisfying. It is hardly credible that it was merely the power of tradition which determined Luther to cling to this dogma, for he assuredly gave abundant proof of his ability to throw aside traditional forms of belief. Indeed we should not go far wrong in assuming that it was rather the actual contact with the 'real 1 and material in the Communion, and the feeling-significance of this contact for Luther him- self, that prevailed over the evangelical principle, which maintained that the word was the sole vehicle of grace and not the ceremony. With Luther the word certainly had redeeming power, but the partaking of the Communion was also a transmitter of grace. This, I repeat, must have been only an apparent concession to the institutions of the Catholic Church ; for in reality it was the acknow- ledgment, demanded by Luther's psychology, of the fact of feeling, grounded upon the immediate sense-experience. As against the Lutheran standpoint Zwingli represented the purely symbolic conception. What really concerned him was a ' spiritual ' partaking of the body and blood of Christ. This standpoint has the character of reason ; it is a conceptual attitude to the ceremony. It has the merit that it offers no violence to the evangelical principle, and at the same time it avoids all hypotheses that run counter to reason. This conception, however, does little 86 PROBLEM OF TYPES IN HISTORY justice to the thing which Luther wished to preserve, namely the reality of the sense-impression and its peculiar feeling-value. Zwingli, it is true, also administered the Communion, and with Luther also partook of bread and wine nevertheless his conception contained no formula which could have adequately rendered the unique sensa- tional and feeling value of the object. Luther gave a formula for this, but it was opposed to reason and the evangelical principle. To the standpoint of sensation and feeling this matters little, and indeed rightly, for the idea, the * principle ', is just as little concerned about the sensa- tion of the object. Both points of view are in the last resort mutually exclusive. The Lutheran formulation favours the extraverted con- ception of things, while Zwingli has the conceptual stand- point, Although Zwingli's formula does no violence to feeling and sensation, but merely gives a conceptual for- mulation, and appears furthermore to have left room for the efficacy of the object, yet it seems as though the extraverted standpoint is not content with an open space, but demands also a formulation in which the conceptual follows the sensuous value, exactly as the conceptual for- mulation requires the subservience of feeling and sensation. At this point, with the consciousness of having given merely a statement of the problem, I close this chapter on the principle of types in the history of classic and medieval thought. I am not sufficiently competent to be able to treat so difficult and voluminous a problem in any way exhaustively. If I have been successful in conveying to the reader an' impression of the existence of typical differences of standpoint, my purpose has been achieved. I need scarcely add that I am aware that none of the material here touched upon has been conclusively dealt with. I must bequeath this task to those who command a fuller knowledge of this province than myself. CHAPTER II SCHILLER'S IDEAS UPON THE TYPE PROBLEM 1. Letters on the ^Esthetic Education of Man (a) The superior and the inferior functions So far as my somewhat limited range extends, Friedrich Schiller seems to have been the first to have made any con- siderable attempt at a conscious discrimination of typical attitudes, and to have developed a fairly complete pre- sentation of their singularities. This important endeavour to represent the two mechanisms in question, and at the same time to discover a possibility of their reconciliation, is to be found in his treatise first published in 1795 : Uber die dsthetische Erziehung des Menschen 1 . The paper con- sists of a number of letters which Schiller addressed to the Duke of Holstein-Augustenburg, Schiller's essay, by the depth of its thought, the psycho- logical penetration of its material, and its wide vision of the possibility of a psychological solution of the conflict, prompts me to a somewhat extensive presentation and appreciation of his ideas, for never yet has it fallen to their lot to be treated in such a connection. The merit due to Schiller from our psychological view- point, as will become clear in our further discussion, is by no means inconsiderable ; for he gives us developed points- of-view which we, as psychologists, are just beginning to appreciate. My responsibility will, of course, not be light, 1 Cotta'sche Ausgabe, 1826, Bd. rviii. The English translation is in many ways unsatisfactory and even incorrect : the references frerpfore are ijo fte German edition. 88 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM for it may well happen that I shall be accused of giving a construction to Schiller's ideas which his actual words do not warrant For, although I shall take considerable pains, at every essential point, to quote the actual words of the author, yet it may not be altogether possible to introduce his ideas in the connection I intend to establish here without giving them certain interpretations or con- structions. I am obliged not to overlook this possibility, but, on the other hand, we must bear in mind the fact that Schiller himself belongs to a definite type, and is therefore constrained, even in spite of himself, to deliver a one-sided characterization. The limitation of our conceptions and cognition becomes nowhere so apparent as in psychological presentations, where it is almost impossible for us to trace any other picture than that whose main outlines are already marked out in our own psyche. From various characteristics I conclude that Schiller belongs to the introverted type, while Goethe inclines more to the extraverted side. We can easily trace Schiller's own image in his description of the idealistic type. An inevitable limitation is imposed upon his formulation through this identification, a fact which must never be lost sight of in our effort to gain a fuller understanding. This limitation is to be ascribed to the fact that the one mechanism is presented by Schiller in richer outline than the other, for the latter is still imperfectly developed in the introvert, and just because of its imperfect development it must necessarily have certain inferior characters clinging to it. In such cases the presentation of the author demands our criticism and correction. It is clear, too, that this limitation of Schiller's has also prompted him to use a terminology which fails in general applicability. As an introvert Schiller has a better relation to ideas than to things of SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 89 the world. The relation to ideas can be relatively more emotional or reflective according to whether the individual belongs more to the feeling or the thinking type. At this point I would request the reader, who perhaps may have been led by my earlier publications to identify feeling with extraversion and thinking with introversion, to be good enough to bear in mind the definitions furnished in the last chapter. With the introverted and extraverted types I have there distinguished two general classes of men, which can be further sub-divided into function-types, e.g thinking, feeling, sensational, and intuitive. Hence an introvert can be a thinking or a feeling type, since feeling as well as thinking can come under the supremacy of the idea, just as both in given cases can be ruled by the object If then I consider that Schiller, both in his nature and particularly in his characteristic opposition to Goethe, corresponds with the introvert, the question next arises as to which subdivision he belongs. This question is hard to answer. Without doubt the factor of intuition plays a considerable r&le with him ; we might on this account, or if we were regarding him exclusively as a poet, count him as an intuitive type. But in the Gber die dsthet. Erziehung it is undoubtedly Schiller the thinker who confronts us. Not only from these, but also from his own repeated admissions, we know how strong the reflective element was in Schiller. Consequently we must shift his intuitiveness over towards the side of thinking, so that we may also approach him from this other angle, ie. from our understanding of the psychological view- point of an introverted thinking type. It will, I hope, be sufficiently proved hereafter that this conception coincides with reality, for there are not a few passages in Schiller's writings that speak distinctly in its favour. I would, therefore, request the reader to bear in mind that the D* 90 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM hypothesis I have just outlined underlies my whole argument This is, in my opinion, necessary, because Schiller handles the problem from the angle of his own inner experience. In view of the fact that another psychology, *. another type, would have apprehended the problem in quite another form, the highly general formulation which Schiller gives to it might be regarded in the nature of an encroachment, or as an ill-considered generalization. But such a judgment would be incorrect, since there is actually a large class of men for whom the problem of the differentiated functions is precisely the same as it was for Schiller. If, therefore, in the ensuing argument I occasionally emphasize Schiller's one-sided- ness and subjectivity, I do not wish to detract from the importance and validity of the problem he has raised, but rather to make room for other formulations. Such criticisms as I may occasionally offer, therefore, are in- tended rather as a transcription into a form of expression, which disembarrasses Schiller's formulation of its sub- jective limitations. My argument, nevertheless, clings very closely to Schiller's, since it is concerned much less with the general question of introversion and extraversion which in Chapter I exclusively engaged our attention than with the typical conflict of the introverted thinking type. Schiller concerns himself at the very outset with the question of the cause and origin of the bifurcation of the two mechanisms. With sure instinct he hits upon the differentiation of the individual as the basic motive. " It was culture itself, which dealt this wound to the modern man" (p. 22). This one sentence at once shows Schiller's embracing understanding of our problem. The breaking up of the harmonious co-operation of the psychic forces that exists in instinctive life is like an ever open and never healing wound, a veritable Amfortas* wound ; since the SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 91 differentiation of one function among several inevitably leads to overgrowth of the one and to neglect and crippling of the rest " I do not ignore the advantages", says Schiller, " which the present generation, regarded as a whole, and measured by reason, may boast over what was best in the bygone world ; but it must enter the contest as a compact phalanx and measure itself as whole against whole. What in- dividual modern could enter the lists, man against man, and contest the prize of manhood with an individual Athenian? Whence then arises this unfavourable in- dividual comparison in the face of every advantage from the standpoint of the race ? " (p. 22). Schiller places the responsibility for this decline of the modern individual upon culture, i.e. upon the differen- tiation of functions. He next points out how, in art and scholarship, the intuitive and the speculative minds have become estranged, and how each has zealously excluded the other from its respective field of application. " And with the sphere into which man confines his opera- tion, he has also made unto himself a ruler; which fact not infrequently results in the suppression of his other faculties. Whereas, in the case of the former, the luxuriating power of imagination makes a wilderness of the laborious plantations of the mind, in the latter the spirit of abstraction consumes the fire that should have warmed the heart and kindled phan- tasy" (p. 23). And further : " When the commonwealth makes the office or function the measure of the man, when of its citizens it does homage only to memory in one, to a tabulating intelligence in another, and to a mechanical capacity in a third ; when here, regardless of character, it urges only towards knowledge, while there it encour- ages a spirit of order and law-abiding behaviour with the pro- foundest intellectual obscurantism when, at the same time, it wishes these single accomplishments of the subject to be carried to just as great an intensity as it absolves him of extensity is it to be wondered at that the remaining faculties of the mind are neglected, in order to bestow every care upon the special one which it honours and rewards ? " 92 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM In these thoughts of Schiller there lies much weight It is understandable that Schiller's age, whose imperfect knowledge of the Grecian world appraised the man of Greece by the greatness of his bequeathed works, should thereby over-estimate him beyond all bounds, inasmuch as the peculiar beauty of Grecian art owed its existence in no small measure to its contrast with the milieu from which it arose. The advantage of the Greek consisted in the fact that he was less differentiated than the modern, if indeed one is disposed to regard that as an advantage ; for the disadvantage of such a condition must at least be equally obvious. The differentiation of functions is assuredly no product of human caprice; its origin, like that of everything in nature, was necessity. Could one of these modern admirers of the Grecian heaven and Arcadian bliss have visited the earth as an Attic helot, he might well have surveyed the beauties of the land of Greece with rather different eyes. Even were it the fact that the primitive conditions of the fifth century before Christ yielded the individual a greater possibility for an all-round unfolding of his qualities and capacities, this nevertheless was possible only because thousands of his fellow-men were admittedly cramped and crippled in wretched circumstances. A high level of individual culture was undoubtedly reached by certain figures, but a collective culture was quite unknown to the ancient world. This achievement was reserved for Christianity. Hence it conies about that, as a mass, the moderns can not only rival the Greeks, but by every standard of collective culture they easily surpass them. Schiller, on the other hand, is perfectly right in his contention that our individual has not kept pace with our collective culture ; and it has certainly not improved during the hundred and twenty years that have passed since Schiller wrote rather the reverse ; for, if we had not wandered even farther intc SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 93 the collective atmosphere to the prejudice of individual development, the violent reactions which took shape in the mind of a Stirner or a Nietzsche would scarcely have been required. Still to-day, therefore, Schiller's words must remain both timely and valid. Like the ancients, who with a view to individual development catered for the claims of an upper class by an almost total suppression of the great majority of the common people (helots and slaves), the subsequent Christian world reached a condition of collective culture through an identical process, albeit translated as far as possible into the individual sphere (or, raised to the sub- jective level, as we prefer to express it). While the value of the individual was proclaimed to be an imperishable soul by the Christian dogma, it became no longer possible for the inferior majority of the people to be suppressed for the freedom of a superior minority, but now the superior function was preferred over the inferior functions in the individual. In this way the chief importance was transferred to the one valued function, to the prejudice of all the rest Psychologically this meant that the external form of society in antique civilization was trans- lated into the subject, whereby in individual psycho- logy, an inner condition was produced which had been external in the older civilization, namely, a dominating, preferred function, which became developed and differenti- ated at the expense of an inferior majority. By means of this psychological process a collective culture gradually came into existence, in which " les droits de Fhomme" certainly had an immeasurably greater guarantee than with the ancients. But it had this disadvantage, that it depended upon a subjective slave-culture, i.e. upon a transfer of the^ antique majority enslavement into the psychological sphere, whereby collective culture was un- doubtedly enhanced, while individual culture depreciated. 94 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM Just as the enslavement of the mass was the open wound of the antique world, the enslavement of the inferior function is an ever-bleeding wound in the soul of man to- day. " One-sidedness in the exercise of his powers leads in the individual infallibly to error, but in the race to truth" (p. 29) says Schiller. The favouritism of the superior function is just as serviceable to society as it is prejudicial to the individuality. This prejudicial effect has reached such a pitch that the great organizations of our present day civilization actually strive for the complete disintegration of the individual, since their very existence depends upon a mechanical application of the preferred individual functions of men. It is not man that counts," but his one differentiated function. Man no longer appears as man in collective civilization : he is merely represented by a function nay, further, he is even exclusively identified * with this function and denies any responsible membership to the other inferior functions. Thus the modern in- dividual sinks to the level of a mere function, because this it is that represents a collective value and alone affords a possibility of livelihood. But, as Schiller clearly discerns, differentiation of function could have come about in no other way : " There was no other means to develop man's manifold capacities than to set them one against another. This antagonism of human qualities is the great instrument of culture ; it is only the instrument, however, for so long as it endures man is only upon the way to culture " (p. 28). According to this conception the present state of warring capacities could not yet be a state of culture, but only a stage on the way. Opinion will, of course, be divided about this, for by culture one man will under- stand a state of collective culture, while another will merely regard this as civilization and will ascribe to culture the sterner demands of individual development. Schiller is, of course, mistaken when he exclusively allies himself SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 95 with the second stand -point and contrasts our collective culture with that of the individual Greek, since he over- looks the defectiveness of the civilization of that time, which renders the absolute validity of that culture very questionable. Hence no culture is ever really complete that swings towards a one-sided orientation, *. when at one time the cultural ideal is extraverted, the chief value being given to the object and the objective relation, while at another the ideal is introverted when the supreme importance lies with the individual or subject and his relation to the idea. In the former case, culture takes on a collective character, while in the latter an individual. One can easily understand, therefore, that it was through the operation of the Christian sphere, whose principle is Christian love (and also through contrast- association with its counterpart, viz. the violation of the individuality) that- a collective culture came about in which the individual threatens to be swallowed up, and individual values are depreciated on principle. Hence there arose in the time of the German ' classics ', that extraordinary yearning for the antique which was for them a symbol of individual culture, and on that account was for the most part very much overvalued and often grossly idealized. Not a few attempts were even made to imitate or recapture the spirit of Greece ; attempts which now-a-days appear to us some- what silly, but which none the less must be valued as the forerunners of an individual culture. In the hundred and twenty years which have passed since Schiller's time, conditions in respect to individual culture have become not better but worse, since individual interest is to-day engrossed to a far greater extent in collective preoccupa- tions, and therefore much less leisure is available for the development of individual culture. Hence we possess to-day a highly developed collective culture, which in organization far exceeds anything that ever existed, but 96 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM which for that very reason has become increasingly injurious to individual culture. There exists a deep gulf between what a man is and what he represents, i.e. between the man as an individual and his function-capacity as a collective being. His function is developed at the expense of his individuality. Should he excel, he is merely identical with his collective function ; but should he not, then, although certainly esteemed as a function in society, he is as an individuality wholly on the side of his inferior, undeveloped functions, and therefore simply barbarous, whereas the former has more fortunately deceived himself concerning his actually existing bar- barism. This one-sidedness has undoubtedly yielded not inconsiderable advantages to society, which has thereby gained acquisitions that could have been won in no other way ; as Schiller finely observes : * Only by focussing the whole energy of our mind and knitting together our entire nature in one unique faculty, do we, as it were, give wings to this individual gift and bring it by artifice far beyond the limits which nature seems to have laid down for it " (p. 29). But this onesided development must inevitably lead to a reaction, since the repressed inferior functions cannot be indefinitely excluded from common life and develop- ment. The time will come when "the cleavage in the inner man must again be resolved ", that the undeveloped may be granted an opportunity to live. I have already alluded to the fact that the differentia- tion of function in civilized development ultimately effects a dissociation of the basic functions of the psyche, thus in a certain measure transcending the differentiation of capacity, and even encroaching upon the province of the psychological attitude in general, which governs the whole manner and character of the application of capacity. By this means culture effects a differentiation of that function SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 97 which already enjoys a better development through heredity. In one man it is the function of thought, in another feeling, which is especially accessible to further development. Thus it happens that the urge of cultural demands engages the individual's special concern with the development of that capacity which Nature has already intended as his most favourable line. But this capacity for development does not mean that the function has an a priori claim to any particular fitness ; it merely pre-supposes one might almost say, on the contrary a certain functional delicacy, lability, and plasticity. On this account the highest individual value is not by any means always to be sought or found in this function ; but just in so far as it is developed for a collective end, it may possibly yield the highest collective value. But it may well be the case, as already observed, that far higher individual values lie hidden among the neglected functions, which, although of small importance for the collective life, are of the very greatest value to individual development These, therefore, represent a living value which can endow the life of the individual with an intensity and beauty that he will vainly seek in his collective function. The differ- entiated function certainly procures for him the possibility of collective existence, but not that satisfaction and joy of life which the development of individual values alone can give. Their absence is often sensed as something deeply lacking, and the severance from them is like an inner division which, with Schiller, one might compare with a painful wound. " Thus, however much may be gained for the world at large by the separate development of human capacities, it cannot be denied that the individuals affected by it suffer under the curse of this general aim. Athletic bodies are certainly built up by means of gymnastic exercises, but beauty is won only through the free and uniform play of the limbs. In the same way the tension of individual mental powers can produce extraordinary 98 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM men, but it is only the uniform temperature of the same that can give man happiness and fulfilment. And in what sort of relation should we stand to past and coming ages, if the develop- ment of human nature compelled us to such a sacrifice ? We would become the thralls of mankind ; thousands of years long for humanity's sake we should be doing slave labour, and have imprinted upon our crippled nature the shameful brand of this servitude only that some later generation might nurse its moral health in blissful leisure, and unfold the ample spread of its humanity 1 But can it be that man is destined, for any aim whatsoever, to neglect himself ? Can Nature with her aims rob us of that perfection which the aims of reason prescribe for us ? It must, therefore, be false, that the development of individual capacities necessitates the sacrifice of their totality ; or, even if the law of nature still pressed towards such a goal, we must never relinquish that totality in our nature which cunning art has de- molished, but which a still higher art may re-establish" (p. 30 )i It is evident that Schiller in his personal life had a profound sense of this conflict, and that it was just this antagonism in himself which begat a longing to seek that coherence and uniformity which should bring deliverance to the wasting and enslaved functions and a restoration of harmonious life. This is also the impelling motive in Wagner's Parsifal, where it receives symbolical expression in the restitution of the missing spear and the healing of the wound, What Wagner attempted to say in artistic, symbolical expression Schiller laboured to formulate in philosophical thought. Although it is nowhere frankly stated, the implication is clear enough that his problem revolves around the possibility of resuming the classical manner and conception of life ; from which one is obliged to conclude that he either overlooks the Christian solution of his problem or deliberately ignores it In any case his mind is focussed more upon classic beauty than upon the Christian doctrine of redemption, which, nevertheless, has no other aim but the solution of that selfsame problem in which Schiller himself travailed, viz. the deliverance from 1 The italics in the text are mine. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 99 evil The heart of man is " filled with raging battle ", says Julian the Apostate in his discourse upon King Helios: and these words significantly mark his insight not only into his own problem but into that of his whole time, namely that inner laceration of the later classical epoch which found its outward expression in an unexampled, chaotic con- fusion of hearts and minds, and from which the Christian doctrine promised deliverance. What Christianity gave was, of course, not a solution but a redemption, a detach- ment of one valuable function from all the other functions which, at that time, made an equally peremptory claim for a share in government. Christianity gave one definite direction, to the exclusion of every other possible direction. This may have been the essential reason why the possibility of salvation that Christianity offered was passed by Schiller in silence. The pagan's near contact with Nature seemed to promise just that possibility which Christianity did not offer. " Nature, in her physical creation, shows us the way which man has to travel in the moral world. Not until the battle of . elemental forces is spent in the lower organizations, does she mount to the noble form of physical man. In the same way this elemental strife in the ethical man, this conflict of blind instincts, must first be assuaged; man must end the crude antagonism in himself before he can venture to unfold his own diversity. Upon the other hand, the independence of his char- acter must be assured, and submissiveness to strange despotic forms have given place to a decent freedom before man may subject the diversity in himself to the unity of the ideal." (p. 32) Thus it is not to be a detachment or redemption of the inferior function, but an acknowledgment of it, a coming to terms with it, as it were, which reconciles the opposites upon the natural way. But Schiller feels that the accept- ance of the inferior function might lead to a " conflict of blind instincts ", just as only vice versa the unity of the ideal might re-establish that priority of the superior over ioo SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM the inferior function, and thereby once again precipitate the original state of affairs. The inferior functions are opposed to the superior, not so much in their essential nature but as a result of their actual momentary form. They were originally neglected and repressed, because they hindered civilized man in the attainment of his aims ; but these correspond with one-sided interests, and are by no means synonymous with a consummation of human individuality. If this were the aim, these unacknowledged functions would be indispensable, and as a matter of fact their nature does not contradict such an end. But, so long as the goal of culture does not coincide with the ideal of individuality, these functions are also subjected to a depreciation which means a decline into relative repression. The conscious accept- ance of the repressed functions is synonymous with civil war, or with the unlocking of previously coupled antitheses, whereby "independence of character" is immediately abolished. This independence can be reached only by a settlement of this conflict, which appears to be impossible without despotic jurisdiction over the antagonizing forces. But thereby freedom is compromised, without which the constitution of a morally free personality is inconceivable. But if one preserves freedom, one is delivered over to the conflict of instincts. " Upon the one hand, in his recoil from liberty, who in her first essays ever wears the semblance of an enemy, man will throw himself into the arms of a comfortable servitude, while upon the other, reduced to despair by a pedantic tutelage, he will escape into the wild unrestraint of the state of nature. Usur- pation will evoke the weakness of human nature, while insurrec- tion its dignity, until finally blind force, the great sovereign of all human affairs, will intervene, and like a common pugilist decide the ostensible battle of principles." (p. 33) The contemporary revolution in France gave to this statement a living, albeit a bloody background ; begun in the name of philosophy and reason, with loftily soaring SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM lot idealism, it ended in a bloodthirsty chaos, from which arose the despotic genius of Napoleon. The goddess of reason proved herself powerless against the might of the unchained beast. Schiller feels the defeat of reason and truth and therefore has to postulate that truth itself shall become ^force. " If she has hitherto evinced so little of her conquering power, the fault lies not so much with the intellect that knew not how to unveil her, as with the heart that shut her out, and with the instinct that did not work for her. Then whence this still pre- vailing prejudice, this intellectual darkness, beside all the light enthroned by philosophy and experience ? The age is enlightened, knowledge has been found and is publicly accessible ; this should at least suffice to correct our practical principles. The spirit of free research has destroyed the illusions which so long barred the approach to truth ; it has undermined the ground upon which fanaticism and fraud had built their thrones. Reason has purged herself of sense-delusion and false sophistries ; even philosophy, which at first made us desert her, calls us with loud insistence back to the bosom of nature whence comes it then that we are still barbarians ? " (p. 35) In these words of Schiller we can feel the nearness of the French enlightenment and the phantastic intellectu- alism of the Revolution. " The age is enlightened " what a strange over-valuation of the intellect 1 " The spirit of free research has destroyed the illusions " what rationalism ! One is vividly reminded of the words of the Proktophan- tasmists: "Vanish! we have enlightened!" 1 If, on the one hand, men of that time were too fain to over-estimate the importance and efficacy of reason, quite forgetting that if reason really possessed such a power, she had long had the amplest opportunity to manifest it ; on the other hand, the fact must not be. overlooked that not all the authori- tative minds of that time held this view ; consequently this soaring of a rationalistic intellectualism may well have sprung from an especially strong subjective development of this element in Schiller himself. In him we have to i Faust, Part I : Waipurfiis-Nacht. 102 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM reckon with a predominance of the intellect, not at the expense of his poetic intuition, but at the cost of feeling. To Schiller himself it seemed as though there were a perpetual conflict between imagination and abstraction, *>. between intuition and intellect Thus he writes to Goethe (3ist August 1794): "This it is which gave me, especially in early years, a certain awkwardness both in speculation and in the realm of poetry ; as a rule the poet would over- take me when I would be the philosopher, and the philo- sophic spirit hold me when I would be the poet. Even yet it happens often enough that imaginative power disturbs my abstraction, and cold reasoning my poetry." His extraordinary admiration of Goethe's mind, and his almost feminine appreciation of his friend's intuition, to which he so often gives expression in his Letters, rests upon a pene- trating perception of this conflict, which must have seemed redoubled in himself in contrast to the almost completely synthetic nature of Goethe. This conflict was due to the psychological circumstance that the energy of feeling gave itself in equal measure both to the intellect and the creative imagination. Schiller seems to have appreciated this fact, for in the same letter to Goethe he makes the observation that no sooner has he begun " to know and to use " his moral forces, which should apportion reasonable limits to the rival claims of imagination and intellect, than a physical illness threatens to shatter them. For it is the character- istic (already frequently alluded to) of an imperfectly developed function, that it withdraws itself from conscious disposition and with its own impetus, *.*. with a certain autonomy, becomes unconsciously implicated with other functions. Whereby, without any sort of differentiated choice, it behaves as a purely dynamic factor; it might well be described as an impetus or reinforcement which lends the conscious differentiated function the character of being carried away or coerced. So that, in one case, the SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 103 conscious function is seduced beyond the limits set by purpose and decision ; in another, it is held up before the attainment of its goal and led away upon a by-path ; while, in a third case, it is brought into conflict with the other conscious functions, a conflict which remains unresolved so long as the unconsciously implicated and disturbing in- stinctive force is not differentiated in its own right and subjected as such to a certain conscious disposition. Thus one is almost driven to assume that the cry : ' Whence comes it then that we are still barbarians? 1 is no mere reflexion of the spirit of that age, but also springs from Schiller's subjective psychology. Like other men of his time, he too sought the root of the evil in the wrong place, for at no time did barbarism consist in a state where reason or truth have an insufficient effect ; it appears only when man expects such an effect from them, or, we might even say, it is because man provides reason with too much efficacy from a superstitious over-valuation of ''truth*. Barbarism is onesidedness, lack of moderation bad pro- portion generally. In the impressive example of the French Revolution, which had just then reached the culminating point of terror, Schiller could see to what extent the goddess of reason held sway in man, and how far the unreasoning beast was triumphant. It was doubtless these events of Schiller's epoch which urged the problem upon him with especial force, for it frequently happens that, when a problem that is at bottom personal, and therefore appar- ently subjective, impinges upon outer events which contain the same psychological elements as the personal conflict it is suddenly transformed into a general question that embraces the whole of society. In this way, the personal problem gains a dignity that was hitherto wanting ; since a state of inner discord has an almost mortifying and degrading quality, so that one sinks into a humiliated con- 104 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM dition both without and within, like a State dishonoured by civil war. It is this that makes one shrink from dis- playing before a larger public a purely personal conflict, provided, of course, that one does not suffer from an over-daring self-esteem. But when it happens that the connection between the personal problem and the larger contemporary events is discerned and understood, a rela- tivity is established that promises release from the isolation of the purely personal ; in other words, the subjective problem is amplified to the dimensions of a general question of our society. This is no small gain as regards the possibility of a solution. For, whereas the rather meagre energy of conscious interest in one's own person was hitherto the only source available for the personal problem, there is now assembled the combined forces of collective instinct, which flow in and unite with the in- terests of the ego ; thus a new situation is brought about which offers new possibilities of a solution. For what would never have been possible to personal will or courage is made possible by the force of collective instinct; it bears a man over obstacles which his own personal energy could never overcome. We are therefore prompted to conjecture that it was largely the impressions of contemporary events that gave Schiller the courage to undertake this attempt to solve the conflict between the individual and the social function. The same antagonism was also deeply sensed by Rousseau indeed it was the starting point of his work Emile, ou de I Education (1762). Several passages are to be found in it which have interest for our problem. "L'homme civil n'est qu'une unite fractionnaire qui tient au ddnominateur, et dont la valeur est dans son rapport avec rentier, qui est le corps social. Les bonnes institutions sociales sont celles qui savent le mieux d&iaturer Thonune, lui 6ter son existence absolue pour lui en dormer une relative, et tzansportet le moi dans l'unit commune. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 105 " Celui qui dans Pordre civil vent conserver la primaute* des sentiments de la nature ne sait ce qu'il veut. Tou jours en contradiction avec lui-m&ne, toujours flottant entre ses pen- chants et ses devoirs, il ne sera jamais ni nomine ni citoyen ; il ne sera bon ni pour lui ni pour les autres." * Rousseau opens his work with the famous sentence: " Tout est bien, sortant des mains de T Auteur des choses ; toutdgn&re entre les mains de Thomme." 2 This state- ment is characteristic not for Rousseau alone but for that whole epoch. Schiller also turns back, not of course to Rousseau's natural man and here lies an essential difference but to the man who lived "under a Grecian heaven ", But the retro- spective orientation that is common to both is inextricably bound up with an idealization and over-valuation of the past. Schiller in the wonder of pagan art forgets the actual every- day Greek; Rousseau mounts to dizzy heights, losing him- self in phrases such as : " 1'homme naturel est tout pour lui ; il est Tunit6 num6rique, 1'entier absolu." s Whereby he over- looks the fact that the natural man is wholly collective, i.e. just as much in others as in himself, and is everything else besides a mere unity. In another passage Rousseau says : " Nous tenons . tout, nous nous accrochons tout, les temps, les lieux, les hommes, les choses, tout ce qui est, tout ce qui i Emile, livre i : " Man as a citizen is only a fractional unity de- pendent upon a denominator, and his value lies in his relation with the whole, which is society. Those institutions are good which best understand how to change the nature of man, how to take from him his absolute existence unto himself and give him a relative one, how, in short, to translate the ego into a common unity. " He who wishes to preserve in his life as a citizen the supremacy of natural feelings knows not what he wants. Ever in contradiction with himself, ever hovering between his inclinations and his duties, he will become neither man nor citizen ; he will be useless both to him- self and others." * " Everything as it leaves the hands of the Author of things is good ; everything degenerates under the hands of man." Emile, livre ii : " Natural man is wholly himself ; he is an. integral unity, an absolute whole." io6 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM sera, importe & chacun de nous, notre individu n'est plus que la moindre partie de nous-memes. Chacun s'^tend, pour ainsi dire, sur la terre entidre, et devient sensible sur toute cette grand*, surface." " Est-ce la nature qui porte ainsi les homines si loin d'eux- memes ? " * Rousseau deceives himself; he believes this state to be a recent development But this is not so. Granted it has only recently become conscious to us, it none the less always existed, and it reveals itself all the more vividly the further we descend into the origins. For what Rousseau depicts is nothing but that primitive collective mentality which LeVy-Bruhl has aptly termed "participation mystique". 2 This state of suppression of the individuality is no new acquisition, but a residue of that archaic time when there was no individuality whatsoever. What we are dealing with is not, therefore, a recent suppression, but merely a new sense and awareness of the overwhelming power of the collective. One naturally pro- jects this power into political and ecclesiastical institutions, as though there were not already ways and means enough for the evasion of even moral commands when occasion suited ! In no way have these institutions that presumed omnipotence for which they are from time to time assailed by innovators of every sort ; the suppressing power lies unconsciously in ourselves, namely in our own barbarian element with its primitive collective mentality. To the collective psyche every individual development is obnoxious which does not directly serve the ends of collectivity. Hence the differentiation of the one function mentioned i " We cling to everything, we clutch on to all times, places, men, things ; all that is, and all that will be, matters to each of us ; our individual self is only the least part of ourselves. Each extends, as it were, over the whole earth, and becomes sensitive to **"'* whole vast surface. " Is it nature which thus bears men so far from themselves ? " * L4vy-Bruhl, Lt$ Functions wntofa fans fa writes inf&ituw, SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 107 above, although certainly a development of an individual value is still so largely conditioned by the view-point of collectivity, that the individual himself, as we have already seen, actually suffers from this development. Both authors have to thank their imperfect acquaint- ance with earlier conditions of human psychology for their lapse into false judgments upon the values of the past The result of this false judgment is a belief in the illusory picture of an earlier, more perfect type of man, who some- how fell from his high estate. Backward orientation is in itself a relic of pagan thinking, for it is a well-known characteristic of the whole classic and barbaric mentality that it imagined a paradisiacal age as a golden forerunner of the present evil time. It was the great social and educational act of Christi- anity which first gave man a future hope, assuring him of a future possibility for the realization of his ideals \ The stronger note of this retro-orientation in the more recent intellectual movements may be connected with the appear- ance of that general regression towards the pagan which with the Renaissance made itself increasingly manifest It seems to me certain that this retrogressive orientation must also have a definite influence upon the means selected for human education. For a mind thus orientated is ever seeking support in some phantasmagoria in the past We could make light of this, if the knowledge of the conflict between the types and the typical mechanisms were not also constantly urging us to seek for that which could re-estab- lish their unity. As we may see in the following passages, this goal had also a profound interest for Schiller. His fundamental ideaabout it is expressed in the following words, which indeed actually sum up what has just been said : " Let a benevolent, deity snatch in time the suckling from his mother's breast, nourish him with the milk of a better age, 1 Indications of this are already to be found in the Grecian mysteries. io8 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM and let b* ripen to maturity under that far Grecian heaven, Then, when he is become a man, let him, return, a strange figure, into his own century : but not that he may delight it with his appearance, but terrible, like Agamemnon's son, to purify it." Erziehung d. Menschen, p. 39 The leaning towards the Grecian model could scarcely be more clearly expressed. But in this narrow formulation one can also glimpse a limitation, which in the following paragraph urges him to a very essential amplification, for he continues: "His material will he indeed take from the present, but his form he will borrow from an older age. Yea, from beyond all ages, from the absolute, un- changeable unity of his being? Schiller clearly felt that he must go back still further, into some primeval heroic age, where men were still half-divine. He therefore continues : " Here from the pure aether of his daemonic nature wells forth the source of beauty, untainted by the depravity of the generations and epochs, which whirl in troubled eddies far below." Here is ushered in the lovely phantom of a Golden Age, when men were still gods and were constantly . refreshed with the vision of eternal beauty. But here, too, the poet has overtaken the thinker in Schiller. A few pages further on the thinker again gets the upper hand. *' The fact ", says Schiller (p. 47), " must cause one to reflect that in almost every epoch of history, when the arts blossomed and taste ruled, one finds that humanity declined ; furthermore not one single example can be shown of -a people where a high level and a wide universality of aesthetic culture went hand in hand with political freedom and civic virtue, or where beautiful manners went with good morals, or polished behaviour with truth." According to this familiar and in every way undeniable experience, those heroes of olden days must have pursued a none too scrupulous conduct of life, which, moreover, no single myth, either Grecian or otherwise, maintains. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 109 Beauty could still delight in her existence, for as yet there was neither penal code nor guardian of public morals. With the recognition of the psychological fact that living beauty unfolds her golden splendour only when soaring above a reality of gloom, torment, and squalor, Schiller's particular aim is undermined; for he had undertaken to prove that what was separated would be reconciled by the vision, enjoyment, and creation of the beautiful. Beauty was to be the mediator which should restore the primal unity of human nature. But, neverthe- less, all experience goes to show that beauty needs her opposite as a necessary condition of her existence. As before it was the poet, it is now the thinker that possesses Schiller; he mistrusts beauty, he even holds it possible, arguing from experience, that she may exercise an unfavourable influence : " Wherever we turn our eyes into the world of the past, we find taste and freedom fleeing one another, and beauty establishing her sovereignty only upon the ruins of the heroic virtues? This insight, which is the product of experience, can hardly sustain the claim that Schiller makes for beauty. In the further pursuit of his theme he even reaches a point where he abstracts the reverse of beauty with an all too enviable clarity : " Thus, if one's view about the effect of beauty is entirely influenced by what one learns from all bygone experience, one cannot be greatly encouraged in the work of educating feelings which prove to be so dangerous to the true culture of man; and, in spite of the danger of crudity and hardness, man is wiser to forego the softening power of beauty than, with every advantage of refinement, to be delivered over to her enervating influence." The matter between the poet and the thinker would surely allow of adjustment if the thinker took the words of the poet not literally but symbolically, which is how the tongue of the poet desires to be understood. Can no SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM Schiller have misunderstood himself? It would almost seem so otherwise he could not argue thus against himself. The poet sings of a spring of unsullied beauty which flows beneath every age and generation, and is constantly swelling in every human heart It is not the man of ancient Greece, the poet means, but the old pagan in ourselves ; that piece of eternal, unspoiled nature and natural beauty which lies unconscious but living within us, whose reflected splendour transfigures the shapes of former days, and for whose sake we even embrace the error that those distant men actually possessed the beauty which we are seeking. It is the archaic man in ourselves, who, rejected by our collectively orientated consciousness, appears to us as hideous and inacceptable, but who is nevertheless the bearer of that beauty which we elsewhere unavailingly seek. This is the man the poet Schiller means, but the thinker Schiller mistakes him for his Grecian prototype. But what the thinker cannot logically deduce from all his massed material, and at which he labours in vain, the poet in symbolical language reveals to him as a promised land. It is now sufficiently clear- from all that has been said that every attempt at an adjustment of the one-sided differentiation of the human being of our times has to reckon with the serious acceptance of the inferior, because undifferentiated, functions. No attempt at mediation will succeed which does not understand how to release the energies of the inferior functions and to lead them over into differentiation. This process can take place only in accordance with the laws of energetics, i.e. a potential must be created which offers the latent energies a possi- bility of coming into play. It would be a hopeless task which nevertheless has been often undertaken and as often foundered to trans- form an inferior function directly into a superior one. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM in It would be as easy to make a perpetuum mobile. No inferior form of energy can be simply converted into a superior form unless at the same time a source of higher value lends its support, i.e> the conversion can be accom- plished only at the expense of the superior function. But under no circumstances can the initial value of the superior energy-form be attained by the inferior function or resumed once more by the superior function ; a levelling at some intermediate temperature must inevitably result But for every individual who identifies himself with his one differentiated function, this entails a descent to a condition that is certainly balanced, but of a definitely lower value as compared with the apparent initial value. This conclusion is unavoidable. Every education of man which aspires after the unity and harmony of his nature has to deal with this fact After his own manner, Schiller also draws this conclusion, but he struggles against accept- ing his results, even to the point where he has to renounce beauty. But when the thinker has uttered his ruthless judgment, the poet speaks again: "But it may be that experience is no tribunal before which a question like this shall be decided, and before we give weight to its testi- mony, let all doubt be set at rest that the beauty we speak of, and that against which these examples testify, is one and the same." (p. 50). One sees that Schiller here attempts to take his stand above experience; in other words he bestows upon beauty a quality which experience does not grant her. He believes that " Beauty must be proven a necessary condition of mankind* \ t\e. a necessary, compelling category. He even speaks of a purely intellectual concept of beauty, and a " transcendental way" which shall take us out of the " round of appearances and away from the living presence of things". "Who durst not go beyond reality will never vanquish truth " A subjective resistance to the experimental, inevitable, n* SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM downward way prompts Schiller to suborn the logical intellect in the service of feeling, thus forcing it to con- struct a formula which would ultimately make possible the attainment of the original aim, notwithstanding the fact that its impossibility is already sufficiently exposed. A similar violence is committed by Rousseau in his assumption that, whereas dependence upon nature does not involve depravity, it does if one is dependent upon man ; from which he arrives at the following conclusion : "Si les lois des nations pouvaient avoir comme celles de la nature, une inflexibility que jamais aucune force humaine ne put vaincre, la dpendance des hommes redeviendrait alors celle des choses ; on r&inirait dans la rpublique tous les a van- tages de l'6tat naturel a ceux de T6tat civil ; on joindrait a la liberte 'qui maintient I'homme exempt de vice la moialit qui l'61evea,lavertu". 1 Arising out of these reflections he gives the following advice : " Maintenez 1' enfant dans la seule depend ance des choses, vous aurez suivi 1'ordre de la nature dans le progrds de son educa- tion. . . II ne faut point contraindre un enfant de rester quand il veut aller, ni d'aller quand il veut rester en place. Quand la volont& des enfants n'est point gtee par notre faute, ils ne veulent rien inutilement. 2 " But the misfortune lies in this : that never, under any circumstances, do "les lois des nations'* possess that admirable accord with the laws of nature which could enable the civilized to be at the same time a natural state. i " If the laws of nations, like those of nature, could have an in- flexibility that no human force could ever vanquish, the dependence of men would become once more like that of things ; one could combine in the republic all the advantages of the natural state with those of citizenship ; one could add to the liberty which exempts rneL-n from vice the morality which raises him to virtue." * Emile, livre ii : " Keep the child dependent solely upon things, you will have f oUowed the order of nature in the progress of his educa- tion. . . Do not force a child to stay when it wants to go, or to go when it wants to stay quiet. When the will of our children is not spoiled by our own fault, they desire nothing that is useless." SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 113 If such a settlement could be regarded as at all possible, it could be conceived only as a compromise wherein neither of the two conditions would attain its own ideal but both would remain far below it. Whoever wishes to attain the ideal of either state will have to rest with the statement that Rousseau himself formulated : " II faut opter entre faire un homme ou un citoyen: car on ne peut faire k la fois Tun et 1'autre." ("One must choose whether to make a man or a citizen ; for at the same time one cannot make both.") Both these necessities exist in ourselves : Nature and culture. We cannot only be ourselves, we must also be related to others. Hence a way must be found that is not a mere rational compromise ; it must also be a state or process that wholly corresponds with the living being, it must be a " semita et via sancta " as the prophet says, a "via directa ita ut stulti non errent per earn." ("A highway and the way of holiness." " A straight way so that fools shall not err therein.") (Isaiah^ xxxv. 8). I am therefore disposed to give the poet in Schiller his just due, although in this case he has encroached somewhat outrageously upon the province of the thinker; since rational truths are not the last word, there are also irrational truths. In human affairs, what appears im- possible upon the way of the intellect has very often become true upon the way of the irrational. Indeed, all the greatest changes that have ever affected mankind have come not by the way of intellectual calculation, but by ways which contemporary minds either ignored or rejected as absurd, and which only long afterwards became fully recognised through their intrinsic necessity. More often than not they are never perceived 1 at all, for the all-important laws of mental development are still to us a seven-sealed book. 1 am, however, little disposed to grant any considerable E Ii 4 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM value to the philosophical demeanour of the poet, for the intellect is a deceptive instrument in his hands. What the intellect can achieve, it has in this case already done; for it disclosed the contradiction between desire and experience. To persist, then, in demanding a solution of this contradiction from philosophical thinking would be quite useless. And, even if a solution could finally be thought out, the real obstacle would still confront us, for the- solution does not lie in the possibility of thinking it or in the discovery of a rational truth, but in the revealing of a way which real life can accept Propositions and wise precepts have indeed never been wanting. If it were only a question of these, even in the remote days of Pythagoras, man had the finest opportunity of reaching the heights from every direction. Therefore what Schiller proposes must not be taken in a literal sense, but rather as a symbol^ which, in harmony with Schiller's philosophical temperament, assumes the character of a philosophical concept. Similarly the "transcendental way" which Schiller sets out to tread must not be understood as a cognitional raisonnement, but symbolically as that way which a man always follows when he . encounters an obstacle immediately inaccessible to his reason in a word, an insoluble task. But, before he is able to discover and follow this way, he must first abide a long time with the opposites into which his former way divided. The obstacle dams up the river of his life. Whenever such a damming up of libido occurs, the opposites, formerly united in the steady flow of life, fall apart and henceforth oppose one another like antagonists eager for battle. In a prolonged conflict, the upshot and duration of which cannot be foretold, the opposites become exhausted, and from the energy which goes out of them is that third element created which is the beginning of the new way. la accordance with this law, Schiller now devotes SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 115 himself to a profound research of the actual opposites at work. Whatever the nature of the obstacle we may strike provided only it be difficult the cleavage between our own purpose and the contending object at once becomes a conflict in ourselves. For, inasmuch as I am striving to subordinate the contending object to my will, my whole being is gradually placed into relationship with it, corresponding, in fact, with the strong libido application, which as it were transveys a part of my being into the object The result of this is a partial identification between certain portions of my personality and similar qualities in the nature of the object As soon as this identification has taken place, the conflict is transferred into my own psyche. This ' introjection ' into myself of the conflict with the object creates an inner discord, which gives rise to a certain impotence vis-i-vis the object, and also releases affects, which are always symptomatic of inner disharmony. But the affects prove that I am perceiving myself and am therefore in a situation if I am not blind to apply my observation upon myself, and to follow up the play of opposites in my own psyche. This is the way that Schiller takes. The division that he finds is not between the State and the individual, but, in the beginning of the eleventh Letter (p. 5 1), he conceives it as the duality of " person and condition", namely as the self or ego and its changing affectedness 1 . Whereas the ego has a relative constancy, its relatedness (or affectedness) is variable. Schiller thus intends to seize the discord at the root. Actually, the one side is also the conscious ego- function, while the other is the collective relationship. Both determinants belong to human psychology. But the various types will respectively see these basic facts in quite a different light For the introvert, the idea of the self is doubtless the abiding and dominant note of consciousness! * Affectedness is nsed to denote the state of being affected. n6 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM and its antithesis for him is relatedness or affectedness. For the extravert, on the contrary, much more stress is laid upon the continuity of the relation with the object, and less upon the idea of the self. Hence for him the problem is differently situated. We must hold this point in view and consider it more fully as we follow Schiller's further reflections. When, for instance, he says the person reveals itself "in the eternally constant self and in this alone ", this is viewed from the standpoint of the introvert From the standpoint of the extravert, on the other hand, we should say that the person reveals itself simply and solely in its relationship, i>. in the function of relation to the object. For only with the introvert is the " person " exclusively the ego ; with the extravert the person lies in his affectedness and not in the affected self. His self is, as it were, of less importance than his affection, i.e. his relation. The extravert finds himself in the fluctuating and changeable, the introvert in the constant. The self is not "eternally constant", least of all with the extravert, for whom, as an object, it is a matter of small moment To the introvert, on the other hand, it has too much importance : he therefore shrinks from every change that is at all liable to affect his ego. For him affectedness can mean something directly painful, while to the extravert it must on no account be missed. The following formulation immediately reveals the introvert : " In every change to remain himself constant, referring every perception to experience, *'.*. to the unity of knowledge, and relating each of its varying aspects in his own time to the law of all times ; this is the command given him by his reasoning nature" (p. 54). The abstracting, self-contained attitude is evident ; it is even made a supreme rule of conduct Every occurrence must at once be raised to the level of experience, and from the sum of experience a law for the future must also immediately emerge ; whereas the other SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 117 attitude, in which no experience shall be made from the occurrence lest laws might transpire which would hamper the future, is equally human. It is altogether in keeping with this attitude that Schiller cannot think of God as becoming^ but only as eternally being (p. 54) ; hence with unerring intuition he also recognizes the "God-likeness" of the introverted attitude towards the idea : " Man, presented in his perfec- tion would be the constant unit, remaining eternally the same amid the floods of change." " Man carries the divine disposition incontestably within his personality "(p. 54). This view of the nature of God agrees ill with His Christian incarnation and with those similar neo-Platonic views of the mother of the Gods and of her son, who descends into creation as Demiurgos. 1 But it is clear from this view to which function Schiller attributes the highest value, the divinity, viz. the constancy of the idea of the self. The self that is abstracted from affectedness is for him the most important thing, and hence, as is the case with every introvert, this is the idea which he has chiefly developed. His God, his highest value, is the abstraction and conservation of the self. To the extra- vert, on the contrary, God is the experience of the object, the fullest expansion into reality: hence a God who became human is to him more sympathetic than an eternal, immutable law-giver. Here I must observe in anticipation that these points-of-view should be regarded only as valid for the conscious psychology of the types. In the unconscious the relations are reversed. Schiller seems to have had an inkling of this : although indeed his consciousness believes in an unchangingly existing God, yet the way to God-hood is revealed to him by the senses, hence in affectedness, in the changing and living process. But this is for him the function of secondary importance, i Of. the discourse of Julian upon the mother of the Gods. n8 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM and, to the extent that he identifies himself with his ego and abstracts it from the " changing " process, his conscious attitude also becomes quite abstracted; whereby the function of affectedness or relatedness to the object per- force relapses into the unconscious. From this state of affairs noteworthy consequences ensue : I. From the conscious attitude of abstraction, which in pursuit of its ideal makes an experience from every occurrence, and from the sum of experience a law, a certain constriction and poverty results, which is indeed characteristic of the introvert. Schiller clearly feels this in his relationship with Goethe, for he sensed Goethe's more extraverted nature as something objectively opposed to himself 1 . Significantly Goethe says of himself: " As a contemplative man I am an arrant realist. I find that among all the things which confront me I am in the position of desiring nothing from them or added to them, and I make no sort of discrimination among objects beyond their interest for myself," 2 Concerning Schiller's effect upon him, Goethe very characteristically says : " If I have served you as the representative of many objects, you have led me from a too intense observation of outer things and their relationships back into myself. You have taught me to view the many-sidedness of the inner man with finer equity" etc. 8 Whereas in Goethe Schiller finds an oft-times accentuated complement or fulfilment of his own nature, at the same time sensing his difference, which he indicates in the following way : " Expect of me no great material wealth of ideas, for that is what I find in you. My need and endeavour is to make much out of little, and, if ever you should realize my poverty in all that men call acquired knowledge, you will perhaps find that in many ways my aspiration has succeeded. Because nay circle of ideas is smaller I traverse it more quickly and oftener. I may, i Letter to Goethe, January 5th 1798. * Letter to Schiller, April 1798. * Letter to Schiller, January 6th 1798. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 119 therefore, even make a better use of what small ready cash I own, creating a diversity through form which the contents lack. You strive to simplify your great world of ideas, while I seek variety for my small possessions. You have a kingdom to rule, and I only a somewhat numerous family of ideas which I would fain expand to a small universe." Letter to Goethe, Aug. 3ist 1794- If we subtract from this utterance a certain feeling of inferiority characteristic of the introvert, and add to it the fact that the extravert's " great world of ideas " is not so much under his rule as he himself is subject to it, then Schiller's presentation gives a striking picture of the poverty which tends to develop as a result of an essentially abstract attitude. II. A further result of the abstracting, conscious attitude, and one whose significance will become more apparent in the further course of our investigation, is that the unconscious develops a compensating attitude. For the more the relation to the object is restricted by the abstraction of consciousness (because too many ' experiences' and < laws ' are made), all the more insistently does a craving for the object develop in the unconscious. This finally declares itself in consciousness as a compulsive sensuous hold upon the object; whereupon the sensuous tie takes the place of a feeling-relation to the object, which is lacking, or rather suppressed, through abstraction. Characteristically, there- fore Schiller regards the senses, and not tint feelings, as the way to God-hood. His ego lies with thinking, but his affectedness, his feelings, with sensation. Thus with him the schism is between spirituality as thinking, and sensuous- ness as affectedness or feeling. With the extravert, however, matters are reversed: his relation to the object is developed, but his world of ideas is sensational and concrete. Sensuous feeling, or to put it better, the feeling that exists in the state of sensation, is collective, i.e. it begets 120 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM a state of relation or affectedness, which at the same time always translates the individual into the condition of "participation mystique", hence into a state of partial identity with the sensed object This identity declares itself in a compulsory dependence upon the sensed object, and it is this which again prompts the introvert, after the manner of the circulus vitiosus, to an intensification of that abstraction which shall abolish both the burdensome relation and the compulsion it evokes. Schiller recognized this peculiarity of the sensuous feeling : " So long as he merely senses, craves, and works from desire, man is still nothing more than world'' (p. 55). But since, in order to escape affectedness, the introvert cannot abstract in- definitely, he ultimately sees himself forced to shape the external world. " That he may not be merely world, he must impart form to matter" says Schiller (ibid.}\ "he shall externalize all within, and shape everything without" Both tasks, in their highest achievement, lead back to the idea of divinity from which I started out This connection is important. Let us suppose the sensuously felt object to be a man-r-will he accept this prescription? Will he, in fact, permit himself to take shape as though the man to whom he is related were his creator? To play the god on a small scale is certainly man's vocation, but ultimately even inanimate things have a divine right to their own existence and the world long ago ceased to be chaos when the first man-apes began to sharpen stones. It would, 'indeed, be a serious business if every introvert wished to externalize his narrow world of ideas and to shape the external world accordingly. Such experiments happen daily, but the individual ego suffers, and very justly, from this " God-likeness ". For the extravert, this formula should run: "to in- ternalize all that is without and shape everything within". SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 121 Goethe. Goethe gives a telling parallel to this. He writes to Schiller: "In every sort of activity I, on the other hand, am one might almost say completely ideal- istic: I ask nothing at all from objects ; but instead I demand that everything shall conform to my conceptions" (April 1798). This means that when the extravert thinks, things go just as autocratically as when the introvert operates externally 1 . This formula therefore can hold good only where an almost complete stage has already been reached ; when in fact the introvert has attained a world of ideas so rich and flexible and capable of expression that the object no longer forces him upon a Procrustean bed ; and the extravert such an ample knowledge of and consideration for the object that a caricature of it can no longer arise when he operates with it in his thinking. Thus we see that Schiller bases his formula upon the highest possible, and therefore makes an almost prohibitive demand upon the psychological development of the individual assuming also that he is thoroughly clear in his own mind what his formula involves in every particular. Be that as it may, it is at least fairly clear that this formula : " To externalize all that is within and shape everything with- out " is the ideal of the conscious attitude of the introvert. It is based, on the one hand, upon the hypothesis of an ideal range of his inner world of concepts and formal principles, and, on the other, upon the possibility of an ideal application of the sensuous principle, which in that case no longer appears as affectedness, but rather as an active power. So long as man is "sensuous" he is "nothing but world " ; that he may be " not merely world he must impart form to matter". Herein lies a reversal of the * I wish it to be clearly understood that all my observations upon the extravert and introvert in this chapter hold valid only for the special types here dealt with, viz. the intuitive, feeling extravert repre- sented by Goethe, and the intuitive, thinking introvert represented by- Schiller. E* 122 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM passive, enduring, sensuous principle. Yet how can such a reversal come to pass? That is the whole question. It can scarcely be assumed that a man can give to his world of ideas that extraordinary range which would be necessary in order to impose a congenial form upon the material world, and at the same time convert his affected- ness, his sensuous nature, from a passive to an active condition, thus bringing it to the heights of his world of ideas. Somewhere or other man must be related, subjected as it were, else would he be really God-like. One is forced to conclude that Schiller would let it reach a point at which violence was done to the object But in so doing he would concede to the archaic inferior function an unlimited right to existence, which as we know Nietzsche has actually done at least theoretically. This assumption, however, is by no means conclusive with regard to Schiller, since, so far as I am aware, he has nowhere consciously expressed himself to this effect. His formula has instead a thoroughly naive and idealistic character, a character withal quite consistent with the spirit of his time, which was not yet infected by that deep mistrust of human nature and human truth which haunted the epoch of psychological criticism inaugurated by Nietzsche. The Schiller formula could be carried out only by a power standpoint, applied without ruth or consideration : a standpoint with never a scruple about equity and reasonableness towards the object nor any conscientious examination of its own competence. Only under such conditions, which Schiller certainly never contemplated, could the inferior function also win to a share in life. In this way, archaic, nai've, and unconscious elements, though decked out in a glamour of mighty words and lovely gestures, ever came crowding through, and assisted in the moulding of our present ' civilisation/ concerning the nature of which humanity is at this moment in some SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 123 measure of disagreement The archaic power instinct, which hitherto had hidden itself behind the gesture of culture, finally came to the surface in its true colours, and proved beyond question that we " are still barbarians." For it should not be forgotten that, in the same measure as the conscious attitude has a real claim to a certain God-likeness by reason of its lofty and absolute stand- point, an unconscious attitude also develops, whose God- likeness is orientated downwards towards an archaic god whose nature is sensual and brutal. The enantiodromia of Heraclitus forebodes the time when this deus absconditus shall also rise to the surface and press the God of our ideals to the wall. It is as though men at the close of the eighteenth century had not really seen what that was which was taking place in Paris, but persisted in a certain sesthetical, enthusiastic, or trifling attitude, that they might perchance delude themselves concerning the real meaning of that glimpse into the abysses of human nature. " But in that netherworld is terror, And man tempteth not the gods, Craving only that he may never, never see What they in pity veil with night and horror." Schiller's Der Toucher. When Schiller lived, the time for dealing with the under- world was not yet come. Neitzsche at heart was much nearer to it, for to him it was certain that we were approaching an epoch of great struggle. He it was, the only true pupil of Schopenhauer, who tore through the veil of nai'vete and in his Zarathustra conjured up from that lower region ideas that were destined to be the most vital content of the coming age. (b) Concerning the basic instincts In the twelfth Letter Schiller deals with the two basic instincts, to which at this point he devotes a somewhat i*4 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM fuller description. The " sensuous " instinct is that which is concerned with the "placing of man within the confines of time, and making him material." This instinct demands that "there be change, and that time should have a content This state, which is merely filled time, is called sensation" (p. 56). "In this state man is nothing but a unit of magnitude, a filled moment of time or more correfctly he is not even, that, for his personality is dissolved so long as sensation rules him and time carries him along" (p. 57). "With unbreakable bonds this instinct chains the upward-striving mind to the world of sense, and calls abstraction from unfettered wandering in the infinite, back into the confines of the present" It is entirely characteristic of Schiller's psychology that he should conceive the expression of this instinct as "sensation", and not as active, sensuous desire. This shows that for him sensuousness has the character of reaction, of affectedness, which is altogether characteristic of the introvert. An extravert would undoubtedly first lay stress upon the character of desire. There is further significance in the statement that it is this instinct which demands change. The idea wants changelessness and eternity. Whoever lives under the supremacy of the idea, strives for permanence; hence everything that pushes towards change must be against it. In Schiller's case it is feeling and sensation that oppose the idea, since by natural law they are fused together as a result of their undeveloped state. Schiller did not even sufficiently dis- criminate in thought between feeling and sensation, as the following passage demonstrates : " Feeling can only say : This is true for this subject at this moment ; but another moment or another subject may come and revoke the statement of this present sensation " (p. 59). This passage clearly shows that, with Schiller, sensation and feeling are actually interchangeable terms, and its content reveals an SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 125 inadequate valuation and differentiation of feeling as opposed to sensation. Differentiated feeling can also establish universal validity \ it is not purely casuistical. But it is certainly true, that the "feeling-sensation" of the introverted thinking type is, by reason of its passive and reactive character, purely casuistical. For it can never mount above the individual case, by which it is alone stimulated, to an abstract comparison of all cases ; because with the introverted thinking type this office is allotted not to feeling but to thinking. But matters are reversed with the introverted feeling type, whose feeling reaches an abstract and universal character and can establish permanent values. From a further analysis of Schiller's description we find that " feeling-sensation " (by which term I mean the characteristic fusion of feeling and sensation in the intro- verted thinking type) is that function with which the ego is not definitely identified. It has the character of some- thing inimical and foreign, that "destroys" the per- sonality ; it draws it away with it as it were, setting the man outside himself and alienating him from himself. Hence Schiller likens it to the affect that sets a man " beside himself" \ When one has collected oneself, this is termed with equal justice " being oneself again, 2 *'.*. returning once more to the self, restoring one's per- sonality". The conclusion, therefore, is unmistakable that to Schiller it seems as though "feeling-sensation" does not really belong to the person, but is merely a more or less precarious accessory, to which on occasion "a robust will is victoriously opposed". But to the extravert it is just this side of him which seems to constitute his real nature; it is as if he were actually with himself only when he is affected by the object a circumstance we can well understand, when we consider i i.e. cxtraverted, * i.e. introverted- 126 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM that the relation to the object is his superior, differentiated function to which abstract thinking and feeling are just as much opposed as they are indispensable to the intro- vert. The thinking of the extraverted feeling type is just as prejudicially affected by the sensuous instinct as is the feeling of the introverted thinking type. For both it means extreme " limitation " to the material and casuistical. Living through the object has also its " unfettered wander- ing in the infinite ", and not abstraction alone, as Schiller thinks. By means of this exclusion of sensuousness from the idea and range of the * person ', Schiller is able to arrive at the view that the person is "absolute and indivisible unity, which can never be in contradiction with itself." This unity is a desideratum of the intellect, which would fain maintain its subject in the most ideal integrity; hence as the superior function it must exclude the sensuous or relatively inferior function. But the final result of this is that crippling of the human being which is the very motive and starting-point of Schiller's quest. Since, for Schiller, feeling has the quality of " feeling- sensation " and is therefore merely casuistical, the supreme value, a really eternal value, is given to formative thought, the so-called "formative instinct" 1 , as Schiller tails it: "But when thought has once affirmed This w, it is decided for all time, and the validity of its pronouncement is vouched for by the personality itself, which offers defiance to all change" (p. 59). But one cannot refrain from asking : Does the meaning and value of personality really reside only in what is constant and permanent ? Can it not be that change, becoming and development, represent even higher values than sheer " defiance " against change ? * 1 "Formative instinct" is equivalent to ''thinking faculty 1 to Schiller. Schiller himself criticizes this point later. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 127 "When the formative instinct becomes the guiding power and the pure object works in us, then is the supreme unfolding of being, then do all barriers dissolve, then, from a unit of magnitude, to which needy sense confined him, has man arisen to a unit of idea embracing the entire realm of phenomena. No longer are we indi- viduals, but the race : through our mind is the judgment of all minds pronounced, and by our deed is the choice of every heart represented." It is unquestionable that the thought of the introvert aspires towards this Hyperion ; it is only a pity that the unit of idea is the ideal of such a very limited class of men. Thinking is merely a function which, when fully developed and exclusively obeying its own laws, naturally sets up a claim to general validity. Only one part of the world, therefore, can be comprehended through thinking, another part only through feeling, a third only through sensation, etc. There are, in fact, various psychic functions ; for, bio- logically, the psychic system can be understood only as an adaptation system; eyes exist presumably because there is light. Thinking, therefore, under all circumstances commands only a third or a fourth of the total significance, although in its own sphere it possesses exclusive validity just as vision is the exclusively valid function for the recep- tion of light-waves, and hearing for sound-waves. Hence a man who sets the unit of idea on a pinnacle, and senses " feeling-sensation " as something antithetic to his person- ality, can be compared with a man who has good eyes but is nevertheless quite deaf and anaesthetic. " No longer are we individuals, but the race " : certainly, if we exclusively identify ourselves with thinking, or with any one function whatsoever ; for then are we collective and generally valid beings, although quite estranged from ourselves. Outside this quarter-psyche, the other three quarters are in the darkness of repression and inferiority. "Est-ce la nature, qui porte ainsi les hommes si loin d j eux-m6mes ? " we might here ask with Rousseau is it indeed Nature, or is it not rather our own psychology, which 128 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM so barbarously overprizes the one function and allows itself to be swept away by it? This impetus is of course a piece of Nature, namely that untamed, instinctive energy, before which the differentiated type recoils if ever it should 'accidentally* reveal itself in an inferior and despised function, instead of in the ideal function, where it is prized and honoured as divine enthusiasm. Schiller truly says : " But thy individuality and thy present need change will bear away, and what to-day thou ardently craveth in days to come she will make the object of thy loathing." [Letter xii] Whether the untamed, extravagant, and dispro- portionate energy shows itself in sensuality in ab- jectissimo loco or in an overestimation and deification of the most highly developed function, it is at bottom the same, viz. barbarism. But naturally no insight of this state can be gained while one is still hypnotized by the object of action so that one ignores the How of the acting. Identification with the one differentiated function means that one is in a collective state ; not, of course, that one is identical with the collective as is the primitive, but collectively adapted; for "the judgment of all minds is expressed by our own ", in so far as our thought and speech exactly conform to the general expectation of those whose thinking is similarly differentiated and adapted. Further- more, "the choice of every heart is represented by our act," just in so far as we think and do, as all desire it to be thought and done. There is certainly a universal belief and desire that that value is the best and most worth while wherein an identity with the one differentiated function is as fully achieved as possible ; for that brings the most obvious social advantages, albeit the greatest disadvantages to those minorities of our nature, which often constitute a great portion of the individuality. 11 As soon as one affirms ", says Schiller, " a primordial, therefore necessarv. antagonism of the two instincts, there SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 129 is of course no other means of preserving unity in man than for him unconditionally to subordinate the sensuous to the reasoning instinct. Mere uniformity can only result from this, not harmony, and man still remains eternally divided." (pp. 61 if.) " Because it costs much to remain true to one's principles through every fluctuation of feeling, one seizes upon the more comfortable expedient of consolidating the character through the blunting of feeling ; for in sooth it is infinitely easier to obtain peace from a disarmed adversary than to command a daring and robust enemy. Very largely also this operation includes that 'process which we call ' forming the man' and this in the best sense of the word, where it embraces the idea of an inner cultiva- tion and not merely outer form. A man thus formed will indeed be safeguarded from being mere crude nature or from appearing as such ; but he will also be armoured by principle against every sensation of nature, so that humanity will reach him as little from without as from within." (pp. 67 if.} Schiller was also aware that the two functions, thinking and affectedness (feeling-sensation), can substitute one another (which happens, as we saw, when one function is preferred). " He may shift the intensity which the active function de- mands upon the passive one (affectedness), he can substitute the formative instinct by the instinct for material, and convert the receiving into a determining function. He can assign to the active function (positive thinking) the extensity which belongs to the passive one, he can entrench upon the instinct for material to the benefit of the formative instinct and substitute the determin- ing for the receiving function. In the first instance, never will he be himself ; in the second, he will never be anything else." (pp. 64 ff.) In this yery remarkable passage much is contained which we have already discussed. When the energy belonging to positive thinking is bestowed upon " feeling- sensation ", which would be equivalent to a reversal of the introverted type, the qualities of the undifferentiated, archaic "feeling-sensation" become paramount, ie. the individual relapses into an extreme relatedness, or identi- fication with the sensed object. This state corresponds with a so-called inferior extroversion, i.e. an extraversion which, as it were, detaches the individual entirely from his ego 130 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM and dissolves him into archaic, collective ties and identifica- tions. He is then no longer "himself", but a mere relatedness; he is identical with his object and conse- quently without a standpoint. Against this condition the introvert instinctively feels the greatest resistance, which, however, is no sort of guarantee against his repeated and unwitting lapse into it Under no circumstances should this state be confused with the extraversion of an extra- verted type, although the introvert is continually prone to make this mistake and to show towards the true extra- version that same contempt which, at bottom, he always feels for his own extraverted relation 1 . The second instance, on the other hand, corresponds with a pure presentation of the introverted thinking type, who through amputation of the inferior feeling-sensation condemns him- self to sterility, i.e. he enters that state in which " humanity will reach him as little from without as from within ". Here also, it is obvious that Schiller continues to write purely from the standpoint of the introvert, because the extravert, who possesses his ego not in thinking, but rather in the feeling relation to the object, really finds himself through the object, while the introvert loses himself in it But when the extravert, proceeds to introvert, he comes to his inferior relationship with collective ideas, t.e. to an identity with collective thinking of an archaic, concretistic quality, which one might describe as sensation- presentation. He loses himself in this inferior function just as much as the introvert in his inferior extraversion. Hence the extravert has the same repugnance, fear, or silent scorn for introversion as the introvert for extraversion. Schiller senses this opposition between the two mechan- isms thus in his own case between sensation and thinking, * To avoid misconception, I would here like to observe that this contempt does not concern the object, not at least as a rule, but merely the relation to it SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 131 or, as he also says, between " material and form ", or again "passivity and activity" (affectedness and active thinking) 3 as unbridgeable. "The distance between sensation and thinking" is "infinite" and "any sort of mediation is absolutely inconceivable". The .two "conditions are opposed to each other, .and can never be joined." 2 But both instincts are insistent, and as "energies" as Schiller himself in very modern fashion regards them 8 they need, and in fact, demand effective " discharge ". " The demands of both the material and the formative instincts are a serious matter ; for the one is related in cognition to the reality while the other to the necessity of things."* "But the discharge of energy of the sensuous instinct must, in no way, have the effect of a physical disability or a blunting of sensation, which only deserves universal contempt it must be an act of freedom, an activity of the person, tempering everything sensual by its moral intensity." 5 " Only to the mind may sense give place." It must follow, then, that the mind may give place only in favour of sense. Schiller, it is true, does not say this directly, but it is surely implied where he says : " Just as little should this discharge of the formative instinct have the effect of a spiritual disablement and a loosening of the powers of thought and of will ; for this would mean a lowering of mankind. Abundance of sensations must be its honourable source; sensuousness itself must maintain her province with conquering power and resist the despotism which the mind with its encroaching activity would willingly inflict upon her." In these words a recognition of the equal rights of "sensuousness" 6 and spirituality is expressed. Schiller i In contrast to the reactive thinking previously referred to. Letter XXIII, pp. 90 ff. * XIII t p. 68. XV, p. 76. XIII t pp. 68 ff. " Sensuousness " unfortunately does not carry the ambivalence that is contained in the German Sinnlichkeit, which has equally the meaning of sensuality. It is, therefore, important to point out that in all these latter quotations from Schiller the ambivalent significance is definitely intended. [Translator] 132 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM therefore concedes to sensation the right to its own existence. But, at the same time, we can also see in this passage allusions to a still deeper thought, namely the idea of a " reciprocity " between the two instincts, a com- munity of interest, or symbiosis^ as we should perhaps prefer to call it, in which the waste-products of the one would be the food-supply of the other. Schiller himself says that " the reciprocity of the two instincts consists in this, that the effectiveness of the one both establishes and restricts the effectiveness of the other, and that each in its own separate sphere can reach its highest manifesta- tion only through the activity of the other." Hence, if we follow out this idea, their opposition must in no way be conceived as something to be done away with, but must, on the contrary, be regarded as something useful and life - promoting, which should be preserved and strengthened. But this is a direct attack against the predominance of the one differentiated and socially valuable function, since it is the primary cause of the repression and absorption of the inferior functions. This would signify a slave-rebellion against the heroic ideal which compels us, for the sake of one, to sacrifice the remaining all. If this principle, which as we know, was first especially developed by Christianity for the spiritualizing of man subsequently becoming equally effective in furthering his materialization were once finally broken, the inferior functions would find a natural release and would demand, rightly or wrongly, the same recognition as the differen- tiated function. The complete opposition between sensu- ousness and spirituality, or between the " feeling-sensation" and thinking of the introverted thinking type would therewith be openly revealed. This complete opposi- tion, as Schiller also allows, entails a reciprocal limitation, equivalent psychologically to an abolition of the power SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 133 principle i.e. to a renunciation of the claim to a generally valid standpoint on the strength of one differentiated and generally adapted, collective function. The direct outcome of this renunciation is individualism, i.e.the necessity for a realization of individuality, a realiza- tion of man as he is. Let us hear how Schiller tries to approach the problem. "This reciprocity of the two instincts is indeed merely a problem of the reason ; it is a task which man is able wholly to solve only through the perfecting of his being. It is the idea, of his humanity in the truest meaning of the word ; hence it is an absolute to which in the issue of time he can constantly approach without ever attaining." x It is a pity that Schiller is so conditioned by his type ; if it were not so, it could never have occurred to him to look upon the co-operation of the two instincts as a u problem of the reason ", since opposites are not to be united rationally : tertium non datur that is the very basis of their opposition. Then it must be that Schiller understands by reason something else than ratio, namely a higher and almost mystical faculty. Opposites can be reconciled practically only in the form of com- promise, i.e. irrationally, wherein a novum arises between them, which, though different from both, has the power to take up their energies in equal measure as an expression of both and of neither. Such an expression cannot be contrived; it can only be created through living. As a matter of fact, Schiller also means this latter possibility, as we see in the following sentence : " But should instances occur when he (man) proved at the same time this double experience, wherein he was not only con- scious of his freedom but also sensed his own existence ; when feeling himself to be matter, he, at the same time, knew himself to be spirit ; in this unique state and in no other would he gain a complete vision of his humanity, and the object which evoked this vision would serve as the symbol of his accomplished destiny."* i LetUr XIV t p. 69. * Letter XIV t p. 70. 134 SCHILLER ANB THE TYPE-PROBLEM Thus, if the individual were able to live both faculties or instincts at the same time, t.e. thinking by sensing and sensing by thinking, out of that experience (which Schiller calls the object) a symbol would arise which would express his accomplished destiny, i.e. his way upon which his Yea and his Nay are reconciled. Before we take a nearer survey of this idea, it would be well for us to ascertain how Schiller conceives the nature and origin of the symbol : " The object of the sensuous instinct is Life in its widest meaning ; a concept that signifies all material being, and all things directly present to the senses. The object of the formative instinct is Form, a concept that embraces all formal qualities of things and all relations of the same to the thinking function." 1 The object of the mediating function is, therefore, "living form" according to Schiller; for this would be precisely that symbol which unites the opposites : " a concept which serves to describe all aesthetic qualities of phenomena, which embraces in a single word the thing called beauty in its fullest significance". But the symbol also presupposes a function which creates symbols and, while creating them, is an indispensable agent for their apprehension. This function Schiller calls a third instinct, the//tfp instinct; it has no similarity with the two opposing functions ; it none the less stands between them and does justice to both natures, always provided (which Schiller does not mention) that sensation and thinking are recog- nised as serious functions. But there are many with whom neither sensation nor thinking is wholly serious ; in which case seriousness must hold the middle place instead of play. Although in another place Schiller denies the exist- ence of a third mediating instinct (p. 61), we will never- theless assume, though his conclusion is somewhat at fault, his intuition to be all the more accurate. For, as a matter i Lettw XV, p. 73. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 135 of fact, something does stand between the opposites, though it has become invisible in the differentiated type. In the introvert it lies in what I have termed " feeling-sensation ". On account of its relative repression, the inferior function is only partly attached to consciousness ; its other part is dependent upon the unconscious. The differentiated function is most fully adapted to outer reality; it is essentially the reality-function; hence it is as much as possible shut off from any admixture of phantastic elements. These elements, therefore, become linked up with the inferior functions, which are similarly repressed. For this reason the sensation of the introvert, which is usually sentimental, has a very strong tinge of unconscious phantasy. The third element, in which the opposites merge, is on the one hand creative, and on the other receptive, phantasy- activity. It is this function which Schiller terms the play- instinct, by which he means more than he actually says. He exclaims : " For, let us admit once and for all, man only plays when he is a man in the fullest meaning of the word, and he is only completely man when he is playing." l For him the object of the play instinct is beauty. " Man shall only play with beauty, and only with beauty shall he Schiller was actually aware what it might mean to assign the chief position to the 'play-instinct'. The release of repression, as we have already seen, effects a recoil of the opposites upon each other plus a compensa- tion, which necessarily results in a depreciation of the hitherto highest value. For culture, as we understand it to-day, it is certainly a catastrophe when the barbaric side of the European comes uppermost, for who can guarantee that such a man, when he begins to play, shall forthwith take the aesthetic motive and the enjoyment of pure beauty as his goal? That would be an entirely unjustifiable i Letter XV, p. 79. 136 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM anticipation. As a result of the inevitable debasement of cultural achievement a very different result must first be expected. Therefore with justice Schiller observes: "The aesthetic play instinct will, therefore, in its first essays be scarcely recognizable, because the sensual instinct with its capricious temper and savage lusts cease- lessly intervenes. Thus we see crude taste avidly seizing upon the new and startling, the motley, adventurous, and bizarre, even upon the violent and savage, and fleeing nothing so eagerly as simplicity and calm." 1 From this passage we must conclude that Schiller was aware of the danger of this conversion. It also follows that he cannot himself acquiesce in the solution found, but feels a com- pelling need to give man a more substantial foundation for his manhood than the somewhat insecure basis which an aesthetic-playful attitude can offer him. That must indeed be so. For the opposition between the two functions, or function-groups, is so great and so inveterate that play alone could hardly suffice to counterbalance all the difficulty and seriousness of this conflict similia similibus curantur : a third factor is needed, which at the least can equal the other two in seriousness. With the attitude of play all seriousness must vanish, whereby the possibility of an absolute determinability presents itself. At one time the instinct is pleased to be allured by sensation, at another by thinking; now it will play with objects, and now with ideas. But in any case it will not play exclusively with beauty, for in that case man would be no longer a barbarian but already aesthetically educated, whereas the actual question at issue is: How is he to emerge from the state of barbarism ? Above all else, therefore, it must be definitely established where man actually stands in his innermost being. A priori he is as much sensation as he is thinking ; he is in opposition to . 156. SCHILLER AJOT) THE TYPE-PROBLEM 137 himself hence must he stand somewhere in between. In his deepest essence, he must be a being who partakes of both instincts, yet may he also differentiate himself from them in such a way that, although he must suffer the instincts and in given cases submit to them, he can also apply them. But first he must differentiate himself from them, as from natural forces to which he is subject but with which he does not regard himself identical. Con- cerning this Schiller expresses himself as follows : " This inherency of the two root-instincts in no way contradicts the absolute unity of the mind, provided only that man distinguishes himself from both instincts. Both certainly exist and work in him, but in himself he is neither sub- stance nor form, neither sensuousness nor reason." 1 Here, it seems to me, Schiller refers to something very important, viz. the separability of an individual nucleus^ which can be at one time the subject and at another the object of the opposing functions, though ever remaining distinguishable from them. This discrimination is itself as much an intellectual as a moral judgment. In the one case it happens through thinking, in the other through feeling. If the separation does not succeed, or if it is not even attempted, a dissolution of the individuality into the pairs of opposites inevitably follows, since it becomes identical with them. The further consequence is an estrangement with oneself, or an arbitrary decision in favour of one or the other side, together with a violent suppression of its opposite. This train of thought belongs to a very ancient argument, which, so far as my knowledge goes, received its. most interesting formulation, psycho- logically, at the hands of Synesius, the Christian bishop of Ptolemais and pupil of Hypatia. In his book De Somniis* he assigns to the "spiritus phantasticus " practically the i Letter XIX, p. 99- * I quote from the T>atiTi translation of Marsilius Ficinns, 1497* 138 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM same psychological rdle as Schiller to the play-instinct, and I to creative phantasy ; only his mode of expression is metaphysical rather than psychological, which, being an ancient form of speech, is hardly suitable for our purpose. Synesius speaks of it thus: "Spiritus phantasticus inter aeterna et temporalia medius est, quo et plurimum vivimus." ("The phantastic spirit comes between the eternal and the temporal, in which [spirit] are we also most alive".) The "spiritus phantasticus" combines the opposites in itself; hence it also participates in instinctive nature upon the animal plane, where it becomes instinct and incites to daemoniac desires : " Vendicat enim sibi spiritus hie aliquid velut proprium, tanquam ex vicinis quibusdam ab extremis utrisque, et quae tarn longe disjuncta sunt, occurrunt in una natura. Atqui essentiae phantasticae latftudinem natura per multas reruzn sortes ex- tendit, descendit utique usque ad am'malia, quibus non adest ulterius intellectus. . . Atque est animalis ipsius ratio, multaque per phantasticam hanc essentiam sapit animal, &c. . . Tota genera daemonum ex ejusmodi vita suam sortiunter essentiam. Ilia enim ex toto suo esse imaginaria sunt, et iis quae fiunt intus, imaginata.' 1 * Psychologically, demons are interferences from the unconscious, i.e. spontaneous irruptions into the continuity of the conscious process on the part of unconscious com- plexes. Complexes are comparable to demoris which fitfully harass our thoughts and actions, hence antiquity and the Middle Ages conceived acute neurotic disturb- ances as possession. When, therefore, the individual stands consistently upon one side, the unconscious ranges itself i (" For this spirit borrows of both extremes and makes of them something of its own, so that they which formerly lay far apart, now appear in one nature. In many parts of the existing order has Nature extended the realm of the power of phantasy. It even descends to the creatures who do not yet possess reason. . , In truth, it represents the intelligence of the creature, and the creature understands much by means of this power of phantasy. . . All sorts of demons derive their essence from this kind of life. For they are in their whole nature imaginary and in their origin are inwardly fashioned.") SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 139 squarely upon the other, and rebels which in all probability was what must have befallen the neo-Platonic or Christian philosophers, in so far as they represented the standpoint of exclusive spirituality. Particularly valuable is the allusion to the phantastic nature of the demons. It is* as I have previously discussed, precisely the phantastic element which becomes associated in the unconscious with the repressed functions. Hence, if the individuality (a term which more briefly expresses the individual nucleus) is not differentiated from the opposites, it becomes identi- fied with them, and is thereby inwardly rent, i.e, a torment- ing disunion takes place. Synesius expressed this as follows : " Proinde spiritus hie animalis, quern beati spirit- ualem quoque animam vocaverunt, fit deus et daemon omniformis et idolum. In hoc etiam anima pcenas exhibet." (" This spiritual essence, which devout men have also called the vital flame, is both God and idol and demon of every shape. Herein also doth the soul receive her chastise- ment.") Through participation in the instinctive forces the spirit becomes " a God and a demon of many shapes ". This strange idea becomes immediately intelligible when we recollect that in themselves sensation and thinking are collective functions, in which through non-differentiation the individuality (the spirit, according to Schiller) has become dispersed. Thus the individuality becomes a collective being, i.e. god-like, since God is a collective idea of an all-pervading nature. " In this state ", says Synesius, "the soul sufferetli torment 1 '. But deliverance is won through differentiation ; because the spirit, when it has become " humidus et crassus " ( " wet and fat ") sinks into the depths, i.e. becomes entangled in the object ; but when purged through pain it becomes dry and hot and again ascends ; for it is just this fiery quality which distinguishes it from the humid nature of its subterranean abode. Here the question naturally arises, by virtue of what 140 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM power can the indivisible, i.e. the individuality, maintain itself against the separative instincts ? That it can do so upon the line of the play-instinct even Schiller, at this point, no longer believes; for here we are dealing with something serious, some considerable power which can effectively detach the individuality from the opposites. From the one side comes the call, of the highest value, the highest ideal ; while from the other comes the enchant- ment of the strongest desire : " Each of these two root- instincts ", says Schiller, " as soon as it reaches a state of development, must of necessity strive towards the satis- faction of its own nature ; but, because both are necessary and since both must pursue antagonistic objects, this two-fpld urgency is mutually suspended, and between the two the will asserts a complete freedom. Thus it is the will which behaves as a power towards both instincts, but neither of the two can, of itself, behave as a power towards the other. There is in man no other power but his will, . and only that which abolishes man, death and every destroyer of consciousness, can abolish this inner freedom." 1 That the opposites must cancel each other is logically correct, but practically it is not so, for the instincts stand in tnutual and active opposition, causing, temporarily, insoluble conflicts. The will could indeed decide, but only if we anticipate that condition which must first be reached. But the problem how man may emerge out of barbarism is not yet solved ; neither is that condition established which alone could lend the will such efficacy as would reconcile the two root-instincts. It is in fact the sign of the barbarous state that the will has a one-sided determination through one function ; yet the will must none the less have a content, an aim. And how is this aim to be reached ? How else than through a i Lett* XIX t pp. 99, ioo. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 141 preliminary psychic process by which either an intellectual or an emotional judgment, or a sensuous desire, shall provide the will with its content and its goal? If we allow sensuous desire as a motive of will, we act in harmony with the one instinct against our rational judgment Yet, if we transfer the adjustment of the dispute to the rational judgment, then even the fairest and most considerate allotment must always be based upon rational grounds, whereby the rational instinct is conceded a prerogative over the sensuous. The will, in any case, is determined more from this side or from that, just so long as it is dependent for its content upon one side or the other. But, to be really able to decide the matter, it must be grounded on a mediate state or process, which shall give it a content that is neither too near nor too remote from eithei side. According to Schiller's definition, this must be a symbolical content, since the intermediate position between the opposites can be reached only by the symbol. The reality presupposed by the one instinct differs from the reality of the other. To the other it would be quite unreal or apparent and vice versa. But this dual character of real and unreal is inherent in the symbol. If only real, it would not be a symbol, since it would then be a real phenomenon and therefore removed from the nature of the symbol. Only that can be symbolical which embraces both. If altogether unreal, it would be mere empty imagining, which, being related to nothing real, would be no symbol. The rational functions are, by their nature, incapable of creating symbols, since, they produce only a rational product necessarily restricted to a single meaning, which forbids it from also embracing its opposite. The sensuous functions are equally unfitted to create symbols, because, from the very nature .of the object, they are also confined I 4 2 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM to single meanings which comprehend only themselves and neglect the other. To discover, therefore, that impartial basis for the will, we must appeal to another element, where the opposites are not yet definitely divorced but still preserve their original unity. Manifestly this is not the case with consciousness, since the whole nature of consciousness is discrimination, distinguishing ego from non-ego, subject from object, yes from no, and so forth. The separation into pairs of opposites is entirely due to conscious differentiation ; only consciousness can recognize the suitable and distinguish it from the unsuitable and worthless. It alone can declare one function valuable and another worthless, thus favouring one with the power of the will while suppressing the claims of the other. But, where no consciousness exists, where the still un- conscious instinctive process prevails, there is no reflection, no pro et contra, no disunion, but simple happening, regulated instinctiveness, proportion of life. (Provided, of course, that instinct does not encounter situations to which it is still unadapted. In which case damming up, affect, confusion, and panic arise). It would, therefore, be unavailing to appeal to con- sciousness for a decision of the conflict between the instincts. A conscious decree would be quite arbitrary, and could never give the will that symbolic content which alone can create an irrational settlement of a logical antithesis. For this we must go deeper ; we must descend into those foundations of consciousness which have still preserved their primordial instinctiveness ; namely into the unconscious, where all psychic functions are indistinguish- ably merged in the original and fundamental activity of the psyche. The lack of differentiation in the unconscious arises in the first place from the almost direct association of the brain centres among themselves, and in the second from the relatively weak energic value of unconscious SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 143 elements 1 . It may be concluded that they possess re- latively little energy from the fact that an unconscious element at once ceases to remain subliminal as soon as it receives a stronger accent of value ; this enables it to rise above the threshold of consciousness, which it can achieve only by virtue of a specific informing energy. There- with it becomes an " irruption ", a " spontaneously arising presentation" (Herbart). The strong energic value of the conscious contents has an effect like intensive illumination, whereby distinctions become clearly perceptible and mis- takes eliminated. In the unconscious, on the contrary, the most heterogeneous elements, in so far as they possess only a vague analogy, may become mutually substituted for each other, just by virtue of their relative obscurity and frail energic value. Even heterogeneous sense- impressions coalesce, as we see in the " photisms " (Bleuler) of "audition colorize". Language also contains not a few of these unconscious blendings, as I have shown for example with sound, light, and emotional states. 2 The unconscious, therefore, might be that neutral region of the psyche where everything that is divided and antagonistic in consciousness flows together into groupings and formations. These, when examined in the light of consciousness, reveal, a nature that exhibits the constituents of the one side as much as the other ; they nevertheless belong to neither side, but occupy an independent middle station. This mediate position, constitutes for consciousness both their value and their worthlessness ; worthless in so far as nothing clearly distinguishable emerges instantaneously from their forma- tion, thus leaving consciousness embarrassed as to its purpose ; but valuable in so far as their undifferentiated * Cf. H. Nunberg's work : On the Physical Accompaniments of Association Processes (in Jung's Studies in Word- Association, p. 531) t Psychology of the Unconscious, pp. 179 ff. 'I 4 4 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM state gives them that symbolic character which is essential to the content of a mediatory will. Besides the will, which is entirely dependent upon its content, man gains a further resource, then, in the un- conscious, that maternal womb of creative phantasy, which is constantly potent to fashion symbols in the natural process of elemental psychic activity, symbols which can serve in the determination of the mediating will. I say "can 11 advisedly, because the symbol does not eo ipso step into the breach, but remains in the unconscious just so long as the energic value of the conscious content exceeds the value of the unconscious symbol. Under normal conditions this is, moreover, always the case ; while under abnormal conditions a reversal of value takes place, whereby the unconscious receives a higher value than the conscious. In such a case the symbol penetrates the surface of consciousness, without however being taken up by the conscious will and the executive conscious functions, since these, on account of the reversal of values, have now become subliminal. The unconscious has become superliminal, and an abnormal mental state, a mental disorder, has declared itself. Under normal conditions, therefore, energy must be artificially added to the unconscious symbol, in order to increase its value and thus bring it to consciousness. This occurs (and here we return again to the idea of differentia- tion provoked by Schiller) through a differentiation of the Self from the opposites. This differentiation is equivalent to a detachment of the libido from both sides, in such measure as the libido is disposable. For the libido invested in the instinct is only to a certain degree disposable, just so far in fact as the power of the will extends. This is represented by that quantity of energy which is under the "free" disposition of the ego. In such a case the will has the Self as a possible aim. In such measure as further SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 145 development is arrested by the conflict is this goal the more possible. In this case, the will does not decide between the opposites, but merely for the Self, i.e. the dispos- able energy is withdrawn into the Self in other words it is introverted. This introversion simply means that the libido is held with the Self and is prevented from participa- tion in the conflicting opposites. Since the outward way is barred to it, it turns naturally towards thought, whereby it is again in danger of becoming entangled in the conflict. The act of differentiation and introversion involves the detachment of disposable libido, not merely from the outer object alone but also from the inner object, namely ideas. It becomes wholly objectless; it is no longer related to anything that could be a conscious content; it therefore sinks into the unconscious, where it automatically takes possession of the waiting phantasy material, which it activates and urges towards conscious- ness. Schiller's expression for the symbol, viz. " living form * is happily chosen, because the phantasy material thus animated contains images of the psychological development of the individuality in its successive states, thus providing a sort of model or representation of the further way between the opposites. Although it may frequently happen that the discriminating conscious activity cannot find much in these images that can be immediately understood, such intuitions nevertheless contain a living power, which may have a determining effect upon the will. For the content of the will receives determinants from both sides ; as a result the opposites after a certain time recuperate. But the resumed conflict again demands the same process, whereby a further stage is continually made possible. This function of mediation between the opposites I have termed the transcendent function, by which I mean nothing mysterious, but merely a combined function of conscious 146 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM and unconscious elements, or, as in mathematics, a common function of real and imaginary factors 1 . Besides the will whose importance must not be thereby denied we have also creative 1 phantasy, an irrational, instinctive function, which alone has the power of yielding the will a content of such a character as can unite the opposites. It is this function which Schiller intuitively apprehended as the source of symbols ; but he termed it ' play-instinct ', and therefore could make no further use of it for the motivation of the will. In order to obtain this content of the will he went back to the intellect and in doing so allied himself to one side. But he is surprisingly near to our problem when he says : " The power of sensation must, therefore, be destroyed before law (i.e. rational will) can be established, It is not forthwith accomplished when something has a beginning which before had none. Man cannot immediately pass from sensation to thinking ; he must take a step backwards, since only when one determinant is abolished can its opposite take its place. He must be momentarily free from every determinant and pass through a condition of pure determinability. Accordingly he must in some way return to that negative state of pure non-determination which he enjoyed before ever any sort of impression was made upon his senses. But that was a state entirely empty of content, whereas now our chief concern is to harmonize an equal non- determination and an unlimited determinability with the greatest possible fullness; because forthwith from this condition must something positive result. The determination, which he receives through sensation, must therefore be maintained, since he must not lose reality ; but at the same time, in so far as it is a restriction, it should be abolished, because an unlimited determinability must be permitted." Letter XX, p. 104. With the help of what has been said above, this difficult passage can easily be understood, if only we bear in mind 1 I must emphasize the point that I am here presenting only this function in principle. Further contributions to this very complex problem, for which, in particular, the manner of accepting unconscious material into consciousness has a fundamental importance, will be found in my work : La structure de I'inconscient (Archives de Psychologie, Dec. 1916) : also in my paper : The Psychology of Unconscious Pro* cesses (Collected Papers, ch. xiv) SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 147 the fact that Schiller has a constant inclination to seek the solution with the rational will. This factor must be allowed for. What he says is then perfectly clear. The step back- wards is the differentiation from the antagonistic instincts, the detachment and withdrawal of the libido both from the inner and outer object. Here, of course, above all, Schiller has the sensuous object in mind, since, as already explained, his constant aim is to reach over towards the side of rational thinking ; for to him this seems quite indispensable for the determination of the contents of the will. But, in spite of this, the necessity to abolish every determinant still urges itself upon him. In this necessity the detachment from the inner object, the idea, is implied ; otherwise it would be impossible to achieve a complete absence of content and determinant together with that original state of uncon- sciousness, where a discriminating consciousness has not yet distinguished subject from object. It is obvious that Schiller had in mind that same process which I have described as introversion into the unconscious. " Unlimited determinability " clearly means something very like the unconscious, a state in which everything can have effect upon everything else without distinction. This empty state of consciousness must correspond with the " greatest possible fullness ". This fullness, as the counter- part of conscious emptiness, can only be the content of the unconscious, since no other content is given. In this way Schiller expresses the union of the unconscious with the conscious, and "from this state something positive" must result. This "positive" something is for us the symbolic determinant of the will. For Schiller it is a mediate condi- tion, through which the reconciliation of sensation and thinking is brought about He calls it a " middle disposi- tion ", in which sensuousness and reason are equally active ; but for this very reason their determining power is mutually cancelled ; their opposion effects a negation. 148 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM This suspension of the opposites produces an emptiness, which we call the unconscious. Because it is not deter- mine! by the opposites this condition is susceptible to every determinant. Schiller calls it an " esthetic " condition [Letter xx., p. 105], It is worth noting that he thereby overlooks the fact that sensuousness and reason cannot both be " active " in this condition, since, as Schiller himself says, they are already suspended through mutual negation. But, since something must be active and Schiller has no other function at his disposal, the pairs of opposites must, according to him, again become active. Their activity naturally persists, but since consciousness is "empty" they must necessarily be in the unconscious 1 . But this concept Schiller lacks accordingly he becomes contra- dictory at this point. His mediating aesthetic function would thus be equivalent to our symbol-forming activity (creative phantasy). Schiller defines the "aesthetic dis- position " as the relation of a thing " to the totality of our various faculties (mental functions), without its being a definite object for any one individual faculty ". He would here perhaps have done better, instead of this vague definition, to return to his earlier concept of the symbol, since the symbol has this quality, that it is related to all the psychic functions without being a definite object of any single one. Having now reached this mediating dis- position, Schiller perceives that " it is henceforth possible for man, in the way of nature, to make what he will of himself that the freedom to be what he ought to be is wholly restored to him." Because by preference Schiller proceeds intellectually and rationally he falls a victim to his own conclusion. This is already revealed in his choice of the expression "aesthetic". If he had been acquainted with Indian i As Schiller rightly says, in the aesthetic state man is nothing, Letter XX, p. 108. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 149 literature, he would have seen that the primordial imagt which floated before his inner mind had a very different meaning from the "aesthetic" one. His intuition found the unconscious model which from oldest times has exercized its living force in our unwitting minds. Yet he interprets it as "aesthetic", although he himself had previously emphasized its symbolic character. The primordial image to which I refer is revealed in that growth of oriental thought which centres around the Brahman-Atman teaching in India, and in China found its philosophical representative in Lao-Tze. The Indian conception teaches liberation from the opposites, by which every sort of affective state and emotional hold to the object is understood. The libera- tion succeeds a detachment of the libido from all contents, whereby a state of complete introversion results. This psychological process is characteristically called tap as, a term which can best be rendered as self-brooding. This expression clearly pictures the state of meditation without content in which the libido is supplied to the Self some- what in the manner of incubating heat. As a result of the complete detachment of every function from the object, there necessarily arises in the inner man (the Self) an equivalent of objective reality, a state of complete identity of inner and outer which may be technically described as the tat twam asi (that art thou). Through the fusion of the Self with the relations to the object there proceeds the identity of the Self ( Atman) l with the essence of the world (i.e. with the relations of the subject to the object,) so that the identity of the inner with the outer Atman becomes recognized. The concept of Brahman differs only slightly from the concept of Atman, since in Brahman the idea of the Self is not explicitly given : it is, as it were, i Atman has been denned as the soul of Self-hood -the highest principle of life in the universe the Divine germ in man. [Translator] 150 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBJLJtM a more general, almost indefinable, state of identity between the inner and the outer. Parallel, in a certain sense, with tapas is the concept yoga ; by which, not so much a state of meditation as a conscious technique for the attainment of the tapas state, is to be understood. Yoga is a method by which the libido is systematically ' drtiwn in ' and thereby released from the bondage of the opposites. The aim of tapas and yoga is the establishing of a mediate condition from which the creative and redeeming element emerges. For the individual, the psychological result is the attainment of Brahman, the "supreme light," or " dnanda" (bliss). This is the final aim of the redeeming practice. But at the same time this process is also interpreted in terms of cosmogony, since from Brahman-Atman as the foundation of the world all creation proceeds. The cosmogonic myth, like every myth, is a projection of unconscious processes. The existence of this myth proves, therefore, that in the unconscious of the tapas practitioner creative processes take place, which can be interpreted as new adjustments towards the object. Schiller says : " So soon as it is light in man, it is no longer night without. So soon as it is still in him, lulled is the storm in the universe : the contending forces of nature find rest within lasting bounds. Little wonder then that the immemorial poems speak of this great event in the inner man as of a revolution in the outer world, etc." [Letter XXV, p. 135], Through yoga the relations to the object become introverted, *. through a deprivation of energic value they sink into the unconscious, where, as described above, they can engage in new associations with other un- conscious contents, and, thus transformed, they rise again, when the tapas practice is completed, towards the object. Through the transformation of the relation to the object, the object now acquires a new aspect. It is as though SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 151 newly-created ; hence the cosmogonic myth is a speaking symbol for the final result of the tapas exercise. In the almost exclusively introverted direction of the Indian religious exercise the new adaptation to the object has, of course, no significance, but it persists as unconsciously projected cosmogonic myth doctrine, without achieving any practical reorganization of life. In this respect the Indian religious attitude stands, as it were, diametrically opposed to the Christian attitude of Western lands ; since the Christian principle of love is extraverted and absolutely demands the outer object. The former principle gains the riches of knowledge, the latter the fullness of works. In the concept of Brahman there is also contained the concept of Rita (right course), the regulated order of the world. In Brahman, as the creative essence and founda- tion of the world, things come upon the right way, since in It they are eternally dissolved and recreated ; out of Brahman proceeds all development upon the ordered way. The concept of Rita leads us on to that of Tao in Lao- Tze. Tao is the right way, law-abiding ordinance, a middle road between the opposites, freed from them and yet uniting them in itself. The purpose of life is to travel this middle path and never to deviate towards the opposites. The ecstatic factor is entirely absent with Lao-Tze ; it is replaced by a superior philosophic clarity, an intellectual and intuitive wisdom obscured by no mystical haze; a wisdom which presents what is simply the highest attain- able to spiritual superiority, and therefore also lacks the chaotic element in so far as the air it breathes is distant as the stars from the disorder of this actual world. It tames all that is wild, without purifying and transforming it into something higher. One could easily object that the analogy between Schiller's train of thought and these apparently remote ideas is rather far-fetched. But it must not be forgotten that not so long after Schiller's time, these very ideas found a powerful utterance in the genius of Schopenhauer and became so intimately wedded to the Western Germanic mind that they have persisted and thriven even to the present day. In my view it is of small importance that the Latin translation of the Upanishads by Anquetil du Perron (1802) was accessible to Schopenhauer, whilst Schiller with the very sparing information of his time had at least no conscious connection with these sources 1 . I have seen enough in my own practical experience to become convinced that direct communication is not essential in the formation of such relationships. Indeed, something very similar is to be seen in the fundamental ideas of Meister Eckehart, as also in a measure in the thought of Kant, where we find a quite astonishing similarity with the ideas of the Upanishads, without the faintest trace of influence either direct or indirect It is the same here as with myths and symbols, which can arise autochthonously in every corner of the earth and are none the less identical, just because they are fashioned out of the same world-wide human unconscious, whose contents are infinitely less variable than are races and individuals. There is another reason urging me to draw a parallel between Schiller's ideas and those of the East ; and this is, that the thoughts of Schiller might be rescued from the too narrow cloak of aesthetism *. ^Esthetism is not fitted to solve the exceedingly serious and difficult problem of the education of man ; for it always presupposes the very thing it should create, namely the capacity for the love of i Schiller died in 1805. I employ the word ' aesthetism ' as an abbreviated expression for ' aesthetic world-philosophy '. Hence, I do not mean that asthetism with the evil accompaniment of aesthetic action and sentimentality which might perhaps be described as aestheticism. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 153 beauty. It actually prevents a deeper searching of the problem, since it always looks away from the evil, the ugly, and the difficult, and aims at enjoyment, even though it be of a noble kind. -^Esthetism, therefore, lacks all moral motive power, because au fond it is still only refined hedonism. Schiller is indeed at some pains to introduce an unconditional moral motive, but without any convincing success ; since, just because of his aesthetic attitude, it is impossible for him to perceive the kind of consequences which a recognition of the other side of human nature would entail. For the conflict which thereby arises involves such a confusion and suffering for the individual, that, although in the most favourable cases his vision of the beautiful may enable him persistently to repress its opposite, he does not thereby escape from it ; so that, even at the best, the old condition is once more established. In order to help a man out of this conflict, an attitude other than the aesthetic is needed. This is revealed nowhere more clearly than in this parallel with the ideas of the East. The Indian religious philosophy has apprehended this problem to its very depth and has demonstrated what category of remedies is needed to render a solution of the conflict possible. For its achievement the highest moral effort, the greatest self-denial and sacrifice, the most intense religious earnestness and saintliness, are needed. Schopenhauer, with every regard for the aesthetic, has most definitely brought out just this aspect of the problem. We must not, however, imagine that the words ' aesthetic,' ' beauty,' etc., called up the same associations for Schiller as they do for us. Indeed, I am not putting it too stongly when I affirm that for Schiller ' beauty ' was a religious ideal. Beauty was his religion. His " aesthetic disposition " might equally well be rendered "religious devotion." Without definitely expressing anything of the sort, and without explicitly describing his central problem as a religious one, F* 154 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM Schiller's intuition none the less arrived at the religious pro- blem; it was, however, the religious problem of the primitive, which he even discusses at some length in his investiga- tion, without ever pressing along this line to the end. It is worth noting that in the further pursuit of his ideas the question of the ' play-instinct ' fell quite into the background in favour of the idea of the aesthetic disposition, which apparently reached an almost mystical valuation This, I believe, is not accidental, but has a quite definite foundation. Oftentimes it is just the best and most profound ideas in a work which most stubbornly resist a clear apprehension and formulation, even though they are suggested in various places and presumably, therefore, should be sufficiently ripe for a lucid and characteristic synthesis. It seems to me that here there is a difficulty of this sort Into the concept of the " aesthetic disposition " as a mediatory creative state, Schiller himself instils ideas which at once reveal the depth and the seriousness of this concept. And yet, quite as clearly, he discerned the " play- instinct" as that long-sought mediating activity. Now one cannot deny that these two conceptions stand in a certain opposition to each other, for play and seriousness are scarcely compatibles. Seriousness comes through deep inner necessity, but play is its more external expression, that aspect of it which is turned toward consciousness. It is not a question, of course, of a will to play, but of having to flay, a playful manifestation of phantasy through inner necessity, without the compulsion of circumstances, without even the compulsion of will. // is a serious play \ And i Compare what Schiller says : On the Necessary Limitations in the Use of Beautiful Form [Essays, p. 241]. " For since, in the man of aesthetic refinement, the imaginative faculty, even in its free play, is directed according to laws, and sense approves of enjoyment only with the consent of reason, the reciprocal favour is easily required of reason, that it shall be directed, in the earnestness of its law-giving, in accordance with the interests of the imagination and not command the will, without the concurrence of the sensuous instincts." SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 155 yet it is certainly play in its outer aspect, seen from the view-point of consciousness, i.e. from the standpoint of collective judgment. But it is play from inner necessity. That is the ambiguous quality which clings to everything creative. If the play expires in itself without creating anything durable and living, it is only play ; but in the alternative event it is called creative work. Out of a playful move- ment of elements, whose associations are not immediately established, there arise groupings which an observant and critical intellect can only subsequently appraise. The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect, but by the play-instinct from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. Hence one can easily regard every creative activity whose potentialities remain hidden from the many as play. There are, indeed, very few creative men at whom the reproach of playing has not been cast For the man oi genius, and Schiller certainly was this, one is inclined to approve of this point of view. But he himself wished to go beyond the exceptional man and his kind, and to reach the common man, that he too might share that help and deliverance which the creator from sternest inner necessity cannot in any case avoid. The possibility of extending such a point of view to the education of man in general is not, however, guaranteed as a matter of course ; at least it would seem not to be. For a decision of this question we must appeal, as in all such cases, to the testimony of the history of human thought. But before doing so we should again realize from what basis we are attacking the question. We have seen how Schiller demands a release from the opposites even to the point of a complete emptying of consciousness, in which neither sensations, feelings, ideas, nor purposes play any sort of r61e. The condition thus striven for is 156 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE- PROBLEM a state of undifferentiated consciousness, or a conscious state, where, from a depotentiation of energic values, all contents have forfeited their distinctiveness. But a real consciousness is possible only where values effect a dis- crimination of contents. Where discrimination is wanting, no real consciousness can exist. Accordingly, such a state might be called "unconscious", although the possibility of consciousness is at all times present. It is a question therefore of an " abaissement du niveau mental " (Janet) of an artificial nature ; hence also a certain resemblance to yoga and to states of hypnotic " engourdissement ". So far as I know, Schiller has nowhere expressed himself as to his actual view concerning the technique if one may use the word for the induction of the aesthetic mood. The example of Juno Ludovisi that he mentions incidentally in his letters [p. 81] shows us a state of " aesthetic devotion " whose character consists in a complete surrender to and " feeling-into " the object of contemplation. But such a state of devotion lacks the essential character- istic of being without content and determinant. Neverthe- less, in conjunction with other passages, this example shows that the idea of " devotion " was constantly present in Schiller's mind 1 . Which brings us once more to the province of the religious phenomenon; but at the same time we are permitted a glimpse of the actual possibility of extending such a view-point to the common man. The state of religious devotion is a collective phenomenon, which does not depend upon individual endowment. There are, however, yet other possibilities. We have seen that the empty state of consciousness, i.e. the uncon- scious condition, is brought about by a submersion of the libido into the unconscious. Dormant in the unconscious there lie relatively accentuated contents, namely remini- * " Whereas the feminine God demands oar adoration, the god-like woman also kindles our love." I.e., p. 81. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 157 sccnce-complexes of the individual past ; above all the parent-complex, which is identical with the childhood- complex- in general. Through devotion, it. through the sinking of the libido into the unconscious, the childhood- complex is reactivated, whereby the reminiscences of childhood, especially the relations to the parents, are again infused with life. From the phantasies proceeding out of this reactivation there dawns the birth of the Father and Mother divinities, and there awakens the religious child-like relations to God with the corresponding child- like feeling. Characteristically, it is the symbols of the parents that become conscious and by no means always the images of the actual parents ; a fact which Freud explains as the repression of the parent imago through resistance to incest. I am of the same mind upon this interpretation, and yet I believe it is not exhaustive, since it overlooks the extraordinary significance of this symbolical replacement. Symbolization in the shape of the God-image means an immense step forward from the concretism, the sensuousness, of reminiscence ; inasmuch as the regression to the parent, through the acceptance of the " symbol " as a real symbol, is straight-way transformed into a pro- gression ; it would remain a regression if the so-called symbol were to be finally interpreted merely as a sign of the actual parents and were thus robbed of its independent character 1 . Humanity came to its gods through accepting the reality of the symbol, it. it came to the reality of the idea> which alone has made man lord of the earth. Devotion, as Schiller correctly conceived it, is a regressive movement of the libido towards the primordial, a diving down into the source of first beginnings. Emerging as an image of the commencing progressive movement there rises the * I have discussed this point at length in my book Psychology of ih* Unconscious. 158 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM symbol, which represents a comprehensive resultant of all the unconscious factors. It is "living form", as Schiller calls the symbol, a God-image as history unfolds it It is not, therefore, an accident that our author has straightway chosen a divine image, the Juno Ludovisi, as a paradigm. Goethe makes the divine images of Paris and Helen float up from the tripod of the mothers on the one hand the rejuvenated pair, but on the other the symbol of a process of inner union which is precisely what Faust passionately craves for himself as the supreme inner atonement. This is clearly shown in the subsequent scene, and it is equally manifest in the further course of the Second Part As we can see in this very example of Faust, the vision of the symbol is a significant indication as to the further course of life, an alluring of the libido towards a still distant aim, but which henceforth operates unquenchably within him, so that his life, kindled like a flame, moves steadily onwards to the far goal. This is the specific life-promoting significance of the symbol. This is the value and meaning of the religious symbol. I am speak- ing, of course, not of symbols that are dead and stiffened by dogma, but of living symbols that rise from the creative unconscious of living man. The immense significance of such symbols can be denied only by the man whose history of the world begins at the present day. It ought to be superfluous to speak of the significance of symbols, but unfortunately this is not so, for the spirit of our time believes itself superior to its own psychology. The moral and hygienic stand- point of our day must always know whether such and such a thing is harmful or useful, right or wrong. A real psychology cannot concern itself with such queries: to recognize how things are in themselves is enough. The forming of symbols arising out of the state ol SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 159 devotion is, again, one of those collective religious pheno- mena which are not bound up with individual endowment. Hence, also in this respect the possibility of extending the view-point, mentioned above, to the ordinary man may be assumed. I think I have now sufficiently demon- strated at least the theoretical possibility of Schiller's point-of-view for general human psychology. For the sake of completeness and clarity I might add here that the question of the relation of the symbol to consciousness and the conscious conduct of life has long engaged my mind. I have reached the conclusion that, in view of its great significance as a representative of the unconscious, too slight a value should not be given to the symbol. We know from daily experience in the treatment of nervous subjects what an eminently practical significance unconscious interventions possess. The greater the dis- sociation, *.*. the more the conscious attitude becomes aloof from the individual and collective contents of the unconscious, the more powerful are the harmful and even dangerous inhibitions or reinforcements of conscious con- tents from the side of the unconscious. From practical considerations, therefore, the symbol must be conceded a not inconsiderable value. But if we grant the symbol a value, whether great or small, the symbol thereby obtains conscious motive power, i&. it is perceived, and its unconscious libido-charge is therewith given opportunity for development in the conscious conduct of life. Herein according to my view a not inessential practical advan- tage is gained : namely, the co-operation of the unconscious, its participation in the conscious psychic activities and therewith the elimination of disturbing influences from the unconscious. This common function, the relation to the symbol, I have termed the transcendent function. I cannot under- take, at this stage, to elucidate this problem at all ade- 160 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM quately. To do so, it would be absolutely necessary to produce all the material that comes up as the result of unconscious activity. The phantasies hitherto described in the special literature give no conception of the symbolic creations we are here dealing with. There exist, however, not a few examples of these phantasies in the literature of belles-lettres ; but these of course are not "purely" observed and presented they have undergone an intensive "aesthetic" elaboration. Among all these examples I would single out two works of Meyrink for special atten- tion, viz. Der Golem and Das grune Gesicht. But the treatment of this side of the problem I must reserve for a later investigation. Although these conclusions concerning the mediatory state were, so to speak evoked by Schiller, we have already gone far beyond his conceptions. In spite of the fact that he discerned the opposites in human nature with keenness and depth, he remained stuck at an early stage in his attempt at solution. . For this failure his terminus "aesthetic disposition" is in my opinion, not without blame. For Schiller makes the "aesthetic disposition" practically identical with the beautiful, thus transveying the feeling into the mood \ Therewith not only does he take cause and effect together, but he also gives to the state of indeterminability, quite against his own definition, a single-meaning definiteness, since he makes it equivalent with the beautiful. Moreover, from the very outset the edge is taken off the mediating function, since beauty immediately prevails over ugliness, whereas it is equally a question of ugliness. Schiller defines as the " aesthetic quality" of a thing that it should be related "to the totality of our various faculties ". Consequently " beautiful" cannot coincide with " aesthetic", since our different faculties also vary aesthetically : some are ugly, some beautiful, and * Letter XXIII. p. 108. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 161 only an incorrigible idealist and optimist could conceive the "totality" of human nature as simply "beautiful". To be quite accurate, human nature is just real; it has its light and its dark sides. The sum of all colours is grey light upon a dark background or dark upon light. From this conceptual immaturity and inadequacy we may also explain the circumstance that it is not at all clear how this mediatory state shall be established. There are numerous t passages containing the unequivocal mean- ing that in the " enjoyment of pure beauty ", the mediatory state is brought about. Thus Schiller says : " "Whatever flatters our senses with immediate sensation opens our yielding and shifting emotion to every impression, while it also makes us in equal measure less fitted for effort. Whatever strains our power of thought and invites us to abstract ideas strengthens our mind to every sort of resistance, but it also hardens it and robs us of susceptibility in the same degree as it helps us to a greater spontaneity. For this reason the one just as much as the other leads necessarily, in the last resort, to exhaustion .... If, on the contrary, we have surrendered ourselves to the enjoyment of pure beauty, we are, in such a moment, master of our passive and active faculties in equal measure and we can apply ourselves to seriousness and to play, to rest and to motion, to yielding and to resistance, to abstract thought and to perception with the same ease." This presentation stands in abrupt opposition to the provisions of the " aesthetic state " previously laid down, where the man was to be " naught ", undetermined, whilst here he is in the highest degree determined by beauty (" surrendered to it "). It would not repay us to pursue this question further with Schiller. Here he meets a boundary common both to himself and his time, which it was impossible for him to overstep, for everywhere he encounters the invisible "ugliest man", whose unveiling was reserved for our age in the person of Nietzsche. Schiller was intent on making the sensuous into a rational being, because from the outset he makes man 162 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM aesthetic. He himself says [Letter xiii, p. 118]: "We must change the nature of the sensuous man" (p. 120); again he says : " Man must submit the physical life to form ", he must " carry out his physical destiny according to the laws of beauty" (p. 121), "upon the indifferent plane of the physical life man must begin his moral being" (p. 123), he must "though still confined within his sensuous bounds, begin his rational freedom ", " upon his inclinations he must impose the law of his will", "he must learn to desire nobly "(p. 124). That " must " of which our author speaks is the familiar 'ought', which is always invoked when one can see no other way. Here again we meet inevitable barriers. It would be unjust to expect one individual mind, were he never so great, to vanquish this gigantic problem, a problem which only times and peoples can resolve ; and even so by no conscious purpose, but as only fate can solve it. The greatness of Schiller's thought lies in his psycho- logical observation, and his intuitive apprehension of the things observed. There is yet another of his trains of thought I would like to mention, which abundantly deserves consideration. We have seen above that the middle state is characterized by effecting a "positive" something, viz. the symbol. The symbol combines anti- thetic elements within its nature ; hence it also reconciles the real-unreal antithesis, because on the one hand it is certainly a psychological reality (on account of its effectiveness), while on the other it corresponds with no physical reality. It is a fact and yet a semblance. This circumstance is brought out clearly by Schiller, in order to append to it an apologia for semblance 1 , which in every respect is significant. " The greatest stupidity and the highest understanding have herein a certain affinity with each other, that they both i Letter XXVI, p, in. SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 163 aeek the real and are both quite insensitive to mere semblance. Only by the immediate presence of an object in sensation is the former torn from its apathy, and only through, the relating of its ideas to the facts of experience is the latter brought to rest ; in a word, foolishness cannot soar above reality and in- telligence cannot remain below truth. Inasmuch, then, as need for reality and devotion to the real are merely the products of a human defect, indifference to reality and interest in semblance represent a true progress for humanity and a decisive step towards culture." ! When speaking just now about an appraisement of the symbol's value, I showed the practical advantage that an appreciation of the unconscious possesses : namely, we exclude the unconscious disturbance of conscious functions when, from the first, we have taken the unconscious into account through a consideration of the symbol It is familiar that the unconscious, when not realized, is ever at work casting a false glamour over everything : it appears to us always upon objects^ because everything unconscious is projected. Hence, when we are able to understand the unconscious as such, we strip away the false appearance from objects, and this can only promote truth. Schiller says: " This human right to rule man exercises in the mastery of semblance, and the more rigidly he severs mine from thine, the more scrupulously he separates form from essence, and the more independence he learns to give to the same, the more does he not merely enlarge the kingdom of beauty he is actually establishing the boundaries of truth, for he cannot cleanse away appearance from the face of reality without at the same time delivering reality from semblance. 11 Letter xxvi, p. 146. " The effort to achieve this independence of semblance demands a greater power of abstraction, a greater freedom of heart and more energy of will than is required of man in the effort to confine himself in reality, and already must he have left this behind him if he would achieve that." ibid., p. 151. 2. A Discussion on Naive and Sentimental Poetry For a long time it seemed to me as though Schiller's division of poets into naive and sentimental a were a classi- . i Letter XXVI,?. 142. 8 Schiller, Ueber naive und 'stmtimentalische Dichtung. i6 4 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM fication that harmonized with the points of view here expounded. After mature reflection, however, I have come to the conclusion that this is not so. Schiller's definition is very simple : " the naive poet is Nature, the sentimental poet seeks her". This easy formula is enticing, since it affirms two different kinds of relation to the object. It might also be put like this: He who seeks or desires Nature as an object does not possess her; such a man would be the introvert, and, vice versa, he who already is Nature herself, standing therefore in the most intimate relation with the object, would be the extravert. But a rather arbitrary interpretation such as this would have little in common with Schiller's point of view. His division into naive and sentimental is one which, in contrast to our type-division, is not merely concerned with the individual mentality of the poet, but rather with the character of his creative activity, that is, with its product The same poet can be sentimental in one poem, naive in another. Homer certainly is naive throughout, but how many of the moderns are not, for the most part, sentimental ? Evidently Schiller feels this difficulty, and therefore asserts that the poet is conditioned by his time, not as an individual but as a poet Thus he says : " All poets, who are really such, will respectively belong to the naive or sentimental to the degree in which the quality of the age in which they flower, or mere accidental circumstances exert an influence upon their general make-up and upon their passing emotional mood". Consequently it is not a question of funda- mental types for Schiller, but rather of certain char- acteristics or qualities of the individual product Hence it is at once obvious that an introverted poet, on occasion can be just as naive as he is sentimental. It therefore follows that to identify respectively naive and sentimental with extravert and introvert would be quite beside the point, in so far as the problem of types is concerned SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 165 Not so, however, in so far as it is a question of typical mechanisms. (a) The naive attitude I will first present the definitions which Schiller gives of this attitude. It has already been mentioned that the naive poet is " Nature". He simply follows Nature and sensation and confines himself to the mere copying of reality" (/., p. 248). "With naive representations we delight in the living presence of objects in our imagination " (p. 250) "Naive poetry is a boon of Nature. It is a happy throw, needing no bettering when it succeeds, but fit for nothing when it has failed " (p. 303). The naive genius must do everything through his nature: he can do little through his freedom; he will accomplish his idea, only when Nature works in him as an inner necessity " (p. 304). Naive poetry "is the child of life and unto life it returns" (P 303)- The nalve genius depends wholly upon " experi- ence ", upon the world, with which he is in " direct touch ". He "needs succour from without" (p. 305). To the naive poet the "common nature" of his surroundings can "become dangerous", since "sensibility is always more or less dependent upon the external impression, and only a constant activity of the productive faculty, which is not to be expected of human nature, would be able to prevent mere material from committing him, at times, to a blind re- ceptivity. But whenever this is the case, the poetic feeling will be commonplace" (pp. 37ff-)- "The naive genius allows Nature unlimited sway in him" (p. 314). From this definition the dependence of the naive poet upon the object is especially clear. His relation to the object has a compelling character, because he introjects the object, i.e. unconsciously identifies himself with it, or has, as it were, a priori identity with it. L6vy-Bruhl describes this relation to the object as "participation mystique". 1 This t L*s fonctions mtntaks dans Its soci&s inffrieures. i66 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM identity is always derived from an analogy between the object and an unconscious content. One could also say that the identity comes about through the projection of an unconscious analogy-association upon the object An identity of this nature has always a compelling character, because it is concerned with a certain libido-sum, which, like every libido-discharge working from the unconscious, has a compelling character in relation to the conscious, /.*. it is not disposable to consciousness. The naive attitude is, therefore, in a high degree conditioned by the object ; the object operates ' independently in him, as it were ; it fulfils itself in him because he himself is identical with it To a certain extent, therefore, he gives his function of expression to the object, and presents it in a certain way, not in the least actively or intentionally, but because it is represented in him. He is himself Nature: Nature creates in him the product He allows Nature to hold absolute sway in him. Supremacy is given to the object To this extent is the naive attitude extraverted. () The sentimental attitude We mentioned above that the sentimental poet seeks Nature. He " reflects upon the impression objects make upon him, and upon that reflection alone is the emotion based with which he himself is exalted, and which likewise affects us. Here the object is related to an idea, and from this relation alone his poetic power is derived " (/.., p. 249). He " is always involved with two opposing presentations and sensations, with reality as a finite boundary, and with his idea as an infinite : the mixed feeling that he provokes will always bear witness to this dual origin" (p. 250). "The sentimental mood is the .result of the effort to reproduce the naive sensation, in accordance with its content, under the conditions of reflection" (p. 301). " Sentimental poetry is the product of abstraction " SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 167 (p- 3O3)- "As a result of his effort to remove every limitation from human nature the sentimental genius is exposed to the danger of abolishing human nature altogether ; not merely mounting, as he must and should, above every sort of defined and restricted reality to the farthest possibility to idealize in short but even trans- cending possibility itself; in other words, to become pkantasticaL" "The sentimental genius forsakes reality, in order to rise to the world of ideas and command his material with greater freedom" (p. 314). It is easy to see that the sentimental poet, in contrast with the naive, is characterized by a reflective and abstract attitude towards the object. He "reflects" about the object, because he is abstracted from it Thus he is, as it were, severed from the object a priori as soon as his production begins ; it is not the object that works in him, but he himself is operative. He does ' not, however, work inwardly into himself, but outwardly beyond the object. He is distinct from the object, not identical with it ; he seeks to establish hts relation to it, "to command his material." Proceeding from this, his separateness from the object, there comes that impression of duality which Schiller refers to ; for the sentimental poet creates from two sources, namely from the object or from his perception of it, and from himself. The external impression of the object is, for him, not something unconditioned but material which he handles in accordance with his own contents. Hence he stands above the object, and yet has a relation to it ; it is not, however; the relation of impressionability, but of his own free choice he bestows a value or quality upon the object His is therefore an introverted attitude. With the designation of these two attitudes as intro- verted and extraverted we have not, however, exhausted Schiller's idea. Our two mechanisms are basic phenomena of a rather general nature, which only vaguely outline 168 SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM the specific. For the understanding of the naive and sentimental types we must call two further principles to our aid, namely the elements sensation and intuition. I shall discuss these functions in greater detail at a later stage. I only wish to say at this point that the naive is characterized by a preponderance of the sensational element, the sentimental by the intuitive. Sensation fastens to the object, it even draws the subject into the object; hence for the naive type the "danger" consists in his subjection to the object. Intuition, being a per- ception of one's own unconscious processes, withdraws from the object; it mounts above it, ever seeking to command its material, and to shape it, even violently, in accordance with the subjective view-point, though without awareness of the -fact The danger for the sentimental type, therefore, is a complete severance from reality, and a going-under into the fluid phantasy world of the unconscious. (f) The Idealist and the Realist In the same essay Schiller's reflections lead him to a conception of two psychological human types. He says : " This brings me to a very remarkable psychological antagon- ism among men in an age of progressive civilization, an antagon- ism which, because it is radical and rooted in the innate emotional constitution, is the cause of a sharper cleavage among men than the accidental quarrel of interests could ever bring about ; an antagonism which robs the poet and artist of all hope of making a universal appeal although this is his task ; which makes it impossible for the philosopher, in spite of every effort, to be universally convincing ; yet, none the less, this is involved in the very idea of a philosophy and which, finally, will never permit a man in practical life to see his mode of action universally applauded : in short, an opposition which is responsible for the fact that no work of the mind and no deed of the heart can make a decisive success with one class, without thereby drawing upon it a condemnation from the other. This opposition is, without doubt, as old as the beginning of culture, and to the end it can hardly be otherwise, save in rare individual subjects, such as have always existed and, it is to be hoped, will always SCHILLER AND THE TYPE-PROBLEM 169 exist. But although this lies in the very nature of its operation, that it frustrates every attempt at an adjustment, because no section can be brought to see either a deficiency upon its own side, or a reality upon the other ; it is nevertheless always a sufficient gain to follow up such an important division to its final source, and thus, at least, to bring the actual point at issue to a simpler formulation ' ' It follows conclusively from this passage that through the observation of antagonistic mechanisms Schiller arrived at the conception of two psychological types, which claim the same significance in his presentation as I ascribe to the introvert and extravert. With regard to the mutual relation between the two types established by myself, I can endorse almost word for word what Schiller says of his. Schiller, in harmony with what I pointed out earlier, reaches the type from the mechanism, since he "severs alike from the naive and sentimental character a poetic quality that is common to both". If we carry out this operation we shall have to subtract the gifted, creative character ; then to the naive poet there remains the hold to the object and its autonomy in the subject, while to the sentimental there remains the superiority over the object, which is expressed in a more or less arbitrary judgment or treatment of the object. Schiller says : " After this there remains of the former (the naive) nothing else, theoretically, but a dispassionate spirit of observation and a solid dependence upon the equable testimony of the senses ; and, practically, a resigned submission to the necessity of Nature. ... Of the sentimental character there remains nothing but a restless spirit of speculation which insists upon the unconditioned in all cognitions ; and, in practice, a moral severity which insists upon the absolute in every act of will. Whoever counts himself among the former class can be called a realist, and whoever numbers himself with the latter an idealist." Schiller's further elaborations concerning his two types refer almost exclusively to the familiar phenomena of the realistic and idealistic attitudes, and are therefore without interest for our investigation. CHAPTER III THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSlAPJ THE problem discerned, and indeed partially worked out, by Schiller was resumed in a fresh and original way by Nietzsche in his work: Die Geburt der Tragodie, dating from 1871. This early work is more nearly related to Schopenhauer and Goethe than to Schiller. But it at least appears to share aesthetism and Hellenism with Schiller, pessimism and the motive of deliverance with Schopenhauer, and unlimited points of contact with Goethe's Faust. Among these connections, those with Schiller are naturally the most significant for our purpose. Yet we cannot leave Schopenhauer without paying tribute to the way in which he achieved reality for those dawning rays of Eastern knowledge which in Schiller only emerge as insubstantial wraiths. If we disregard the pessimism that springs from a contrast with the Christian joy in faith, and certainty of redemption, Schopenhauer's doctrine of deliverance is seen to be essentially Buddhistic. He was captured by the East. This step was undoubtedly a contrast reaction to our occidental atmosphere. It is, as we know, a reaction that still persists to a very consider- able extent in various movements more or less completely orientated towards India. This pull towards the East caused Nietzsche to halt in Greece. He, too, felt Greece to be the middle point between East and West To this extent he is in touch with Schiller but how utterly different is his conception of the Grecian character 1 He sees the dark foil upon which the serene and golden world 170 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 171 of Olympus is painted. " In order to make life possible, the Greeks from sheer necessity had to make these Gods ". "The Greek knew and felt the terror and awfulness of existence: to be able to live at all he had to interpose the shining, dream-borne Olympian world between himself and that dread. That monstrous mistrust of the titanic powers of Nature, the Moira pitilessly enthroned above all knowledge, the vulture of Prometheus the great lover of man, the awful fate of the wise Oedipus, the family curse of the Atridse which drove Orestes to matricide this dread was ever being conquered anew through that artist's middle world of Olympus, or was at least veiled and withdrawn from sight." 1 The Greek "serenity," that smiling Heaven of Hellas, seen as a glamourous illusion hiding a forbidding background this discernment was reserved for the moderns; a weighty argument against moral aesthetism 1 Nietzsche here takes up a standpoint differing significantly from Schiller's. What one might have guessed in Schiller, namely that his letters on aesthetic education were also an attempt to deal with his own problems, becomes a complete certainty in this work of Nietzsche : it is a " profoundly personal " book. Whereas Schiller, almost timidly and with faint colours, begins to paint light and shade, apprehending the opposition in his own psyche as "naive" versus "sentimental," while ex- cluding everything that belongs to the background and abysmal profundities of human nature, Nietzsche's appre- hension takes a deeper grasp and spans an opposition, whose one aspect yields in nothing to the dazzling beauty of the Schiller vision ; while its other side reveals infinitely darker tones, which certainly enhance the effect of the light, but allow still blacker depths to be divined. i Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy, transl. by W. H. Haussmann, p. 35 (Edinburgh 1909). 172 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN Nietzsche calls his fundamental pair of opposites : the Apottonian-Dionysian. We must first try to picture to ourselves the nature of this opposite pair. To this end I shall select a group of citations by means of which the reader even though unacquainted with Nietzsche's work will be in a position to form his own judgment about it, and at the same time to criticize mine. 1. " We shall have gained much for the science of aesthetics, when the view is once finally reached not merely the logical insight, but the immediate certainty that the continuous develop- ment of art is bound up with the duality of the Apollonian and the Dionysian : in much the same way as generation depends upon the duality of the sexes, involving perpetual conflicts with only periodically intervening reconciliation." (p. 21) 2. " From their two art-deities, Apollo and Dionysos, we derive our knowledge that an immense opposition existed in the Grecian world, both as to origin and aim, between the art of the shaper, the Apollonian, and the Dionysian non-plastic art of music. These two so different tendencies run side by side, for the most part in open conflict with each other, ever mutually rousing the other to new and mightier births in which to per- petuate the warring antagonism that is only seemingly bridged by their common term ' art ' ; until, finally, by a metaphysical miracle of the Hellenic ' will', they appear paired one with the other and in this mating the equally Dionysian and Apollonian creation of Attic tragedy is at last brought to birth." (p. 22) For the purpose of fuller characterization Nietzsche compares the two " tendencies " by means of the peculiar psychological states they give rise to, namely dreaming and frenzy. The Apollonian impulse produces a state that may be compared with the dream> while the Dionysian creates a condition that is akin to frenzy. By dreaming, as Nietzsche himself explains, he essentially understands the "inner vision", the "lovely semblance of the dream world". Apollo "governs the beauteous illusion of the inner world of phantasy " ; he is " the god of all shaping faculties ". He is measure, number, limitation, the mastery of everything savage and untamed. " One might almost THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 173 describe Apollo as the splendid divine image of the principti individuationis? (p. 26). The Dionysian, on the contrary, is the freeing of unmeasured instinct, the breaking loose of the unbridled dynamis of the animal and the divine nature ; hence in the Dionysian choir man appears as satyr, god above and goat below. It represents horror at the annihilation of the principle of individuation, and at the same time "rapturous delight" at its destruction. The Dionysian is, therefore, comparable to frenzy, which dissolves the individual into collective instincts and contents, a dis- ruption ol the secluded ego by the world. In the Diony- sian, therefore, man again finds man ; " estranged, hostile, subjugated Nature celebrates once more her feast of reconciliation with her lost son, man." (p. 26). Every man feels himself " one " with his neighbour (" not merely united, reconciled, and merged "). His individuality must therefore, be entirely suspended " Man is no longer the artist he has become the work of art ". * All the artistry of Nature here reveals itself in the ecstasies of frenzy", (p. 27.) Which means that the creative dynamis, the libido in instinctive form, takes possession of the indi- vidual as an object and uses him as a tool, or expression of itself. If one might conceive the natural being as a " product of art ", then of course a man in the Dionysian state has become a natural work of art ; but, inasmuch as the natural being is also emphatically not a work of art in the ordinary meaning of the word, he is nothing but sheer Nature, unbridled, a raging torrent, not even an animal that is restricted to itself and its own laws. I must emphasize this point both in the interests of clarity and of subsequent discussion, since, for some reason Nietzsche has omitted to make this clear, and has thereby shed over the problem a deceptive aesthetic veiling, which at certain places he himself has instinctively to draw aside. 174 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN Thus, for instance, where he speaks of the Dionysian orgies: "In almost every case, the essence of these festivals lay in an exuberant sexual licence, whose waves inundated every family hearth with its venerable tradi- tions; the most savage beasts of nature were here un- chained, even to the point of that disgusting alloy of lust and cruelty ", etc. (p. 30). Nietzsche considers the reconciliation of the Delphic Apollo with Dionysos as a symbol of the reconciliation of this antagonism within the breast of the civilized Greek. But here he forgets his own compensatory formula, accord- ing to which the Gods of Olympus owe their splendour to the darkness of the Grecian soul. The reconciliation of Apollo with Dionysos would, according to this, be a "beauteous illusion", a desideratum, evoked by the heed of the civilized half of the Greek in the war with his barbaric side, that very element which broke out un- checked in the Dionysian state. Between the religion of a people and its actual mode of life there always exists a compensatory relation ; if this were not so, religion would have no practical significance at all. Beginning with the sublime moral religion of the Persians co-existing with the notorious dubiousness even in antiquity of the Persian manner of life, right down to our c Christian ' epoch, where the religion of love assisted in the greatest butchery of the world's history: wherever we turn we find evidence of this rule. We may, therefore, conclude from this very symbol of the Delphic reconciliation an especially violent cleavage in the Grecian character. This would also explain -that craving for de- liverance which gave the mysteries their immense meaning for the social life of Greece, and which, moreover, was completely overlooked by earlier admirers of the Grecian world. They contented themselves with naively attributing to the Greeks what they themselves lacked. THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 175 Thus in the Dionysian state the Greek was anything but a ' work of art ' ; on the contrary, he was gripped by his own barbaric nature, robbed of his individuality, dis- solved into all his collective constituents, made one with the collective unconscious (through the surrender of his individual goal), identified with "the genius of the race, even with Nature herself". To the Apollonian side which had already achieved a substantial domestication of Nature, this frenzied state that made a man forget both himself and his manhood and turned him into a mere creature of instinct, must have been altogether despicable; for this reason a violent conflict between the two instincts was inevitable. Supposing the instincts of civilized man were let loose! The culture-enthusiast imagines that only beauty would stream forth. Such a notion proceeds from a profound lack of psychological knowledge. The dammed- up instinct-forces in civilized man are immensely more destructive, and hence more dangerous, than the instincts of the primitive, who in a modest degree is constantly living his negative instincts. Consequently no war of the historical past can rival a war between civilized nations in its colossal scale of horror. It will not have been other- wise with the Greeks. It was precisely from a living sense of the gruesome that the Dionysian- Apollonian reconcilia- tion gradually came to them " through a metaphysical miracle ", as Nietzsche says at the beginning. This utter- ance, as well as that other where he says that the opposi- tion in question "is only seemingly bridged by their common term ' art ' " must be kept clearly in mind. It is well to remember this sentence in particular, because Nietzsche, like Schiller, has a pronounced inclination to ascribe to art the mediating and redeeming r61e. The result is that the problem remains stuck in the aesthetic the ugly is also w beautiful " ; even the evil and atrocious may wear a desirable brilliance in the false glamour of the i?6 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN aesthetically beautiful. Both in Schiller and in Nietzsche, the artist nature, with its specific faculty for creation and expression is claiming the redeeming significance for itself. And so Nietzsche quite forgets that- in this battle between Apollo and Dionysos, and in their ultimate reconciliation, the problem for the Greeks was never an aesthetic but a religious question. The Dionysian satyr-feasts, according to every analogy, were a sort of totem-feast with an identifi- cation backward to a mythical ancestry or directly to the totem animal. The cult of Dionysos had in many ways a mystical and speculative tendency, and in any case exercised a very strong religious influence. The fact that Greek tragedy arose out of the original religious ceremony is at least as significant as the connection of our modern theatre with the medieval passion-play with its exclusively religious roots ; such a consideration, therefore, scarcely permits the problem to be judged on its purely aesthetic aspect. ^Esthetism is a modern glass, through which the psychological mysteries of the cult of Dionysos are seen in a light in which they were certainly never seen or experienced by the ancients. With Nietzsche, as with Schiller, the religious point-of-view is entirely overlooked, and its place is taken by the aesthetic. These things have their obvious aesthetic side, which one cannot neglect 1 Yet if one gives medieval Christianity a purely aesthetic appreciation, its true character is debased and falsified, just as much, indeed, as if it were viewed exclusively from the historical standpoint A true understanding can emerge only when equal weight is given to all sides ; no one would i ^Esthetism can, of course, replace the religious function. But how many things are there which could not do the same ? What have we not all come across at one time or another as a surrogate for a lacking religion ? Even though aesthetism may be a very noble surrogate, it is none the less only a compensatory structure in place of the real thing that is wanting. Moreover, Nietzsche's later " con- version " to Dionysos shows very clearly that the aesthetic surrogate did not stand the test of time. THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 177 wish to maintain that the nature of a railway-bridge is adequately comprehended from a purely aesthetic angle. In adopting the view, therefore, that the conflict between Apollo and Dionysos is purely a question of antagonistic art-tendencies, the problem is shifted onto aesthetic grounds in a way that is both historically and materially unjustifi- able; whereby it is submitted to a partial consideration which can never do justice to its real content This shifting of the problem must doubtless have its psychological cause and purpose. One need not seek far for the advantages of this procedure: the aesthetic estimation immediately converts the problem into a picture which the spectator considers at his ease, admiring both its beauty and its ugliness, merely reflecting the passion of the picture, and safely removed from any actual participation in its feeling and life. The aesthetic attitude shields one from being really concerned, from being, personally implicated, which the religious understanding of the problem would entail. The same advantage is ensured to the historical manner of approach, which Nietzsche himself criticizes in a series of unique passages 1 . The possibility of taking such a prodigious problem * a problem with horns," as he calls it, merely aesthetically is of course very tempting, since its religious understanding, which in this case is the only adequate one, presupposes an experience either now or in the past to which the modern man can indeed rarely pretend. Dionysos, how- ever, seems to have taken vengeance upon Nietzsche. Let us compare his Attempt at a Self-criticism, which bears the date 1886 and prefaces The Birth of Tragedy: "What indeed is Dionysian? In this book there lies the answer, a * knowing one ' speaks there, the initiate and disciple of his God". But that was not the Nietzsche * Nietzsche, On the Utility and Advantage of History for Life, Part ii : Occasional Papers, G I 7 8 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN who wrote The Birth of Tragedy ; at that time he was moved aesthetically, while he became Dionysian only at the time of writing Zaratkustra, not forgetting that memorable passage with which he concludes his Attempt at a Self-criticism ; "Lift up your hearts, my brother, high, higher ! And neither forget the legs ! Lift up also your legs, ye good dancers, and better still: let ye also stand on your heads 1 " In spite of his aesthetic self-protection, the singular depth with which Nietzsche grasped the problem was already so close to the reality that his later Dionysian experience seems an almost inevitable consequence. His attack upon Socrates in The Birth of Tragedy is aimed at the rationalist, who proves himself impervious to Dionysian orgiastics. This reaction corresponds with the analogous error into which the aesthetic standpoint always falls, i.e it holds itself aloof from the problem. But even at that time, in spite of the aesthetic viewpoint, Nietzsche had an intuition of the real solution of the problem; as, for instance, when he wrote that the antagonism was not bridged by art, but by a "metaphysical miracle of the Hellenic 'will'". He writes " will" in inverted commas, which, considering how strongly he was at that time influenced by Schopenhauer, we might well interpret as referring to the concept of the metaphysical will. " Metaphysical " has for us the psychological significance of " unconscious ". If, then, we replace " metaphysical " in Nietzsche's formula by " unconscious ", the desired key to this problem would be an unconscious " miracle". A "miracle" is irrational; the act itself therefore is an unconscious irrational happening, a shaping out of itself without the intervention of reason and conscious purpose ; it just happens, it grows, like a phenomenon of creative Nature, and not as a result of the deep probing of human ivits ; it is the fruit of yearning expectation, faith and hope. THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 179 At this point I will leave this problem for the time being, as we shall have occasion to discuss it in fuller detail in the further course of our inquiry. Let us proceed instead to a closer examination of the Apollonian and Dionysian conceptions with regard to their psychological attributes. First we will consider the Dionysian. The presentation of Nietzsche at once reveals it as an unfolding, a streaming upward and outward, a " diastole ", as Goethe called it ; it is a motion embracing the world, as Schiller also presents it in his ode An die Freude: " Seid umsclilungen, Millionen. Diesen Kuss der ganzen Welt." * and further : " Freude trinken alle Wesen An den Brusten der Natur ; Alle Guten, alle Bosen Folgen ihrer Rosenspur. Kusse gab sie uns und Reben, Einen Freund geprtift im Tod ; Wollust war dem Wurm gegeben Und der Cherub steht vor Gott." * That is Dionysian expansion. It is a flood of mightiest universal feeling, which bursts forth irresistibly, intoxi- cating the senses like strong wine. It is a drunkenness in the highest sense. In this state the psychological element sensation, whether it be sensation of sense or of affect, participates in the highest degree. It is a question, therefore, of an extra- version of those feelings which are inextricably bound up * (" Be embraced, oh ye millions. Be this kiss for all the world.") 8 (" J7 d ** 1 ever y creature drink, At Nature's flowing bosom ; Neither good nor evil shrink, To tread her path of blossom. Kisses and the wine she gave, A friend when Death commandeth. Last was for the worm to have, 'Fore God the Cherub standeth.") I8o THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN with the element of sensation ; for this reason we define it as feeling-sensation. What breaks forth in this state has more the character of pure affect, something instinctive and blindly compelling, finding specific expression in an affection of the bodily sphere. In contrast to this, the Apollonian is a perception of the inner image of beauty, of measure, of controlled and proportioned feelings. The comparison with the dream clearly indicates the character of the Apollonian attitude : it is a state of introspection, of inner contemplation towards the dream world of eternal ideas : it is therefore a state of introversion. So far the analogy with our mechanisms is indeed unarguable. But, if we were to content ourselves with the analogy, we should acquiesce in a limitation of outlook that does violence to Nietzsche's ideas ; we should have laid them in a Procrustean bed. We shall in the course of our investigation see that the state of introversion, in so far as it becomes habitual, always involves a differentiated relation to the world of ideas, while habitual extraversion entails a similar relation to the object We see nothing of this differentia- tion in Nietzsche's ideas. The Dionysian feeling has the thoroughly archaic character of affective sensation. It is not therefore pure feeling, abstracted and differentiated from the instinctive into that mobile element, which in the extraverted type is obedient to the commands of reason, lending itself as her willing instrument Similarly Nietzsche's conception of introversion is not concerned with that pure, differentiated relation to ideas which is abstracted from perception whether sensuously deter- mined or creatively achieved into abstract and pure form. The Apollonian is an inner perception, an intuition of the world of ideas. The parallel with the dream clearly shows that Nietzsche regarded this state as a merely perceptive THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 181 condition on the one hand and as a merely pictorial one on the other. These characteristics are individual peculiarities, which we must not include in our concept of the introverted or extraverted attitude. In a man whose prevailing attitude is reflective this Apollonian state' of perception of inner images produces an elaboration of the material perceived in accordance with the character of the individual thought Hence proceed ideas. In a man of a predominantly feeling attitude a similar process results : a searching feeling into the images and an elaboration of a feeling-idea which may essentially correspond with the idea produced by think- ing. Ideas, therefore, are just as much feeling as thought : for example, the idea of the fatherland, of freedom, of God, of immortality, etc. In both elaborations the principle is rational and logical. But there is also a quite different standpoint, from which the logical-rational elaboration is not valid. This other standpoint is the astketic. In intro- version it stays with the perception of ideas, it develops intuition, the inner perception; in extraversion it stays \N\fasensatu>n and develops the senses, instinct, affectedness. Thinking, for such a standpoint, is in no case the principle of inner perception of ideas, and feeling just as little ; instead, thinking and feeling are mere derivatives of inner perception or outer sensation. Nietzsche's ideas, therefore, lead us on to the principles of a third and a fourth psychological type, which one might term the aesthetic, as opposed to the rational types (thinking and feeling). These are the intuitive and the sensation types. Both these types have the mechanisms of introversion and extraversion in common with the rational types, but they do not like the thinking type on the one hand differentiate the perception and con- templation of the inner images into thought, nor like the feeling type on the other differentiate the affective 1*2 THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN experience of instinct and sensation into feeling. On the contrary, the intuitive raises unconscious perception to the level of a differentiated function, by which he also becomes adapted to the world. He adapts himself by means of unconscious indications, which he receives through an especially fine and sharpened perception and interpretation of faintly conscious stimuli. How such a function appears is naturally hard to describe, on account of its irrational, and, "so to speak, unconscious character. In a sense one might compare it with the daemon of Socrates : with this qualification, however, that the strongly rationalistic attitude of Socrates repressed the intuitive function to the fullest limit; it had then to become effective in concrete hallucination, since it had no direct psychological access to consciousness. But with the intuitive type this latter is precisely the case. The sensation-type is in all respects a converse of the intuitive. He bases himself almost exclusively upon the element of external sensation. His psychology is orientated in respect to instinct and sensation. Hence he is wholly dependent upon actual stimulation. The fact that it is just the psychological functions of intuition on the one hand, and of sensation and instinct on the other, that Nietzsche brings into relief, must be characteristic of his own personal psychology. He must surely be reckoned as an intuitive type with an inclination towards the side of introversion. As evidence of the former we have his pre-eminently intuitive, artistic manner of production, * of which this very work The Birth of Tragedy is highly characteristic, while his master work Thus Spake Zarathustra is even more so. His aphoristic writings are expressive of his introverted intellectual side. These, in spite of a strong admixture of feeling, exhibit a pronounced critical intellectualism in the manner of the French intellectuals of the eighteenth century. His lack THE APOLLONIAN AND THE DIONYSIAN 183 of rational moderation and conciseness argues for the intuitive type in general Under these circumstances it is not surprising that in his initial work he unwittingly sets the facts of his own personal psychology in the fore- ground. This is all quite in harmony with the intuitive attitude, which characteristically perceives the outer through the medium of the inner, sometimes even at the expense of reality. By means of this attitude he also gained deep insight into the Dionysian qualities of his unconscious, the crude forms of which, so far as we know, reached the surface of consciousness only at the outbreak of his ill- ness, although they had already revealed their presence in various erotic allusions. It is therefore extremely regrettable, from the standpoint of psychology, that the fragments so significant in this respect which were found in Turin after the onset of his malady, should have met with destruction at the hands of moral and aesthetic scruples, CHAPTER IV THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN THE DISCERNMENT OF HUMAN CHARACTER 1. General Remarks upon Jordan's Types IN my chronological survey of previous contributions to this interesting problem of psychological types, I now come to a small and rather odd work (my acquaintance with which I owe to my esteemed colleague Dr Constance Long, of London) : Character as seen in "Body and Parent- age by Furneaux Jordan, F.R.C.S. (3rd edn., London 1896). In his little book of one hundred and twenty-six pages, Jordan's main description refers to two types or characters, whose definition interests us in more than one respect. Although to anticipate slightly the author is really concerned with only one half of our types, the point of view of the other half, namely the intuitive and sensation types, is none the less included and confused with the types he describes. I will first let the author speak for himself, presenting his introductory definition. On p. 5 he says : " There are two generic fundamental biases in character . . . two conspicuous types of character (with a third, an inter- mediate one) . . . one in which the tendency to action is extreme and the tendency to reflection slight, and another in which the proneness to reflection greatly predominates and the impulse for action is feebler. Between the two extremes are innumer- able gradations ; it is sufficient to point only to a third type . . . in which the powers of reflection and action tend to meet in more or less equal degree. . . In an intermediate class may also be placed the characters which tend to eccentricity, or in which other possibly abnormal tendencies predominate over the emo- tional and non-emotional." 18* TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 185 It can be clearly seen from this definition that Jordan contrasts reflection, or thinking, with activity. It is thoroughly understandable that an observer of men, not probing too deeply, would first be struck by the contrast between the reflective and the active natures, and would therefore be inclined to define the observed antithesis from this angle. The simple reflection, however, that the active nature does not necessarily proceed froni impulse, but can also originate in thought, would make it seem necessary to carry the definition somewhat deeper. Jordan himself reaches this conclusion, for on p. 6 he introduces a further element into his survey, which has for us a particular value, namely the element of feeling. He states here that the active type is less passionate, while the reflective temperament is distinguished by its passionate feelings. Hence Jordan calls his types " the less impassioned " and *the more impassioned". Thus the element which he overlooked in his introductory definition he subsequently raises to the constant factor. But what mainly dis- tinguishes his conception from ours is the fact that he also makes the "less impassioned " type " active " and the other "inactive". This combination seems to me unfortunate, since highly passionate and profound natures exist which are also energetic and active, and, conversely, there are less impassioned and superficial natures which are in no way distinguished by activity, not even by the low form of activity that consists in being busy. In my view, his otherwise valuable conception would have gained much in clarity if he had left the factors of activity and inactivity altogether out of account, as belonging to a quite different point-of-view, although in themselves important charactero- logical determinants. It will be seen from the arguments which follow that with the "less impassioned and more active "type Jordan G* is describing the extravert, and that his " more impassioned and less active" type corresponds with the introvert. Either can be active or inactive without thereby changing its type ; for this reason the factor of activity should, in my opinion, be ruled out as an index character. As a determinant of secondary importance, however, it still plays a rdle, since the whole nature of the extravert appears more mobile, more full of life and activity than that of the introvert But this quality depends upon the phase which the individual temporarily occupies vis--vis the outer world. An introvert in an extraverted phase appears active, while an extravert in an introverted phase appears passive. Activity itself, as a fundamental trait of character, can sometimes be introverted ; it is then wholly directed within, developing a lively activity of thought or feeling behind an outer mask of profound repose ; or at times it can be extraverted, showing itself in vigorous and lively action whilst behind the scenes there stands a firm dispassionate thought or untroubled feeling. Before we make a more narrow examination of Jordan's train of ideas, I must, for greater clarity, stress yet another point which, if not borne in mind, might give rise to confusion. I remarked at the beginning that in earlier publications I had identified the introvert with the thinking and the extravert with the feeling type. As I said before, it became clear to me only later that introversion and extraversion are to be distinguished from the function- types as general basic attitudes. These two attitudes may be recognized with the greatest ease while a sound discrimination of the function types requires a very wide experience. At times it is uncommonly difficult to dis- cover which function holds the premier place. The fact that the introvert naturally has a reflective and contemp- lative air, as a result of his abstracting attitude, has a misleading effect. This leads us to assume in him a TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 187 priority of thinking. The extravert, on the contrary, naturally displays many immediate reactions, which easily allow us to conclude a predominance of the feeling- element But these suppositions are deceptive, since the extravert may well be a thinking, and the introvert a feeling, type. Jordan merely describes the introvert and the extravert in general. But, where he goes into individual qualities, his description becomes misleading, because traits of different function-types are confused together, which a more adequate examination of the material would have kept apart. In general outlines, however, the picture of the introverted and extraverted attitude is unmistakable, so that the nature of the two basic attitudes can be plainly discerned. The characterization of the types from the standpoint of affectivity appears to me as the really important aspect of Jordan's work. We have already seen that the "reflective" and contemplative nature of the introvert finds compensation in an unconscious, archaic life with regard to instinct and sensation. We might even say that that is why he is introverted, since he has to rise above an archaic, impulsive, passionate nature to the safer heights of abstraction, in order to dominate his insubordinate and turbulent affects. This statement of the case is in many instances not at all beside the mark. Conversely, we might say of the extravert that his less deeply rooted emotional life is more readily adapted to differentiation and domestication than his unconscious, archaic thought and feeling, and it is this deep phantasy activity which may have such a dangerous influence upon his personality. Hence he is always the one who seeks life and experience as busily and abundantly as possible, that he may never come to himself and confront his evil thoughts and feelings. From observations such as these, which are very easily verified, we may explain an other- wise paradoxical passage in Jordan, where he says (p. 6), that in the " less impassioned " (extraverted) temperament the intellect predominates with an unusually large share in the shaping of life, whereas the affects claim the greater importance with the "reflective" or introverted temperament At first glance, this interpretation would seem to contradict my assertion that the "less impassioned" corresponds with my extraverted type. But a nearer scrutiny proves that this is not the case, since the reflective character, though certainly trying to deal with his unruly affects, is in reality more influenced by passion than the man who takes for the conscious guidance of his life those desires which are orientated to objects. The latter, namely the extravert, attempts to make this principle all inclusive, but he has none the less to experience the fact that it is his subjective thoughts and feelings which every- where harass him on his way. He is influenced by his inner psychic world to a far greater extent than he is aware of. He cannot see it himself, but an observant entourage always discerns the personal purposiveness of his striving. Hence his golden rule should always be to ask himself : " What is my actual wish and secret purpose ? " The other, the introvert, with his conscious, thought- out aims, always tends to overlook what his circle per- ceives only too clearly, namely that his aims are really in the service of powerful impulses, to whose influence, though lacking both purpose and object, they are very largely subject. The observer and critic of the extravert is liable to take the parade of feeling and thought as a thin covering, that only partially conceals a cold and calculated personal aim. Whereas the man who tries to understand the introvert might readily conclude that vehement passion is only with difficulty held in check by apparent sophistries. TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 189 Either judgment is both true and false. The conclusion is false when the conscious standpoint, i.e. consciousness in general, is strong enough to offer resistance to the uncon- scious ; but it is true when a weaker conscious standpoint encounters a strong unconscious, to which it eventually has to give way. In this latter case the motive that was kept in the background now breaks forth ; the egotistical aim in the one case, and the unsubdued passion, the elemental affect, that throws aside every consideration in the other. These observations allow us to see how Jordan observes : he is evidently preoccupied with the affectivity of the observed type, hence his nomenclature: "less emotional" and " more impassioned ". If, therefore, from the emotional aspect he conceives the introvert as the passionate, and from the same standpoint he sees the extravert as the less impassioned and even as the intellectual, type, he thereby reveals a peculiar kind of discernment which one must describe as intuitive. This is why I previously drew attention to the fact that Jordan confuses the rational with the perceptional point of view. When he character- izes the introvert as the passionate and the extravert as the intellectual, he is clearly seeing the two types from the side of the unconscious, i.e. he perceives them through the medium of his unconscious. He observes and recognizes intuitively : this must always be more or less the case with the practical observer of men. However true and profound such an apprehension may sometimes be, it is subject to a most essential limitation : it overlooks the living reality of the observed man, since it always judges him from his unconscious reflexion instead of his actual presence. This error of judgment is inseparable from intuition, and reason has always been at loggerheads with it on this account, only grudgingly acknowledging its right to existence, in spite of the fact that it must often 190 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER be convinced of the objective accuracy of the intuitive finding. On the whole ; then, Jordan's formulations accord with reality, though not with reality as it is understood by the rational types, but with the reality which is for them unconscious. Naturally, this is a circumstance than which nothing is more calculated to confuse all judgment upon the observed persons, and to enhance the difficulty of interpretation of the facts observed. In these questions, therefore, one ought never to quarrel over nomenclature, but should hold exclusively to the actual facts of observ- able, contrasting differences. Although my own manner of expression is altogether different from that of Jordan, we are nevertheless at one, with certain divergences, upon the classification of the observed phenomena. Before going on to comment upon the way Jordan reduces his observed material into types, I should like briefly to return to his postulated third or " intermediate " type. Jordan, as we saw, ranged under this heading the wholly balanced on one side, and the unbalanced on the other. It will not be superfluous at this point to call to mind the classification of the Valentinian school 1 , in which the Hylic man is subordinated to the psychic and pneumatic. The hylic man, according to his definition, corresponds with the sensation type, i.e. with the man whose prevailing determinants are supplied in and through the senses. The sensation type has neither a differentiated thinking nor a differentiated feeling, but his sensuousness is well developed. This, as we know, is also the case with the primitive. But the instinctive sensuality of the primitive has a counterweight in the spontaneity of the psychic processes. His mental product, his thoughts, practically confront him. He does not make or devise i The name given to the adherents of Valentinus, an Egyptian theologian who flourished circa A.D. 150 and founded a Gnostic sect. The Hyliti suffered themselves to be so captivated by the inferior world as to live only a hylic or material life. (New English Dictionary) TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 191 them he is not capable of that : they make themselves, they happen to him, even confronting him like hallucina- tions. Such a mentality must be termed intuitive, since intuition is the instinctive perception of an emerging psychic content Although the principal psychological function of the primitive is as a rule sensation, the less prominent compensating function is intuition. Upon the higher levels of civilization, where one man has thinking more or less differentiated and another feeling, there are also quite a number of individuals who have developed intuition to a high level and employ it as the essentially determining function. From these we get the intuitive type. It is my belief, therefore, that Jordan's middle group may be resolved into the sensation and intuitive types. 2. Special Description and Criticism of the Jordan Types With regard to the general appearance of the two types Jordan emphasizes the fact (p. 17) that the less emotional yields far more prominent and striking person- alities than the emotional type. This notion springs from the fact that Jordan identifies the active type of man with the less emotional, which in my opinion is inadmissible. Leaving this mistake on one side, it is certainly true that the behaviour of the " less emotional ", or let us say the extravert, makes him more conspicuous than the emotional or introvert. (a) The Introverted Woman (The more-impassioned woman) The first character that Jordan discusses is that of the introverted woman. Let me summarize the chief points of his description (pp. 17 ff.) : " She has quiet manners, and a character not easy to read : tbe is occasionally critical, even sarcastic . . . but though 192 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER bad temper is sometimes noticeable, she is neither fitful noi restless, nor captious, nor censorious, nor is she a " nagging " woman. She diffuses an atmosphere of repose, and uncon- sciously she comforts and heals, but under the surface emotions and passions lie dormant. Her emotional nature matures slowly As she grows older the charm of her character increases. She is " sympathetic", i.e. she brings insight and experience to bear on the problems of others. The very worst characters are found among the more impassioned women. They are the cruellest stepmothers. They make the most affectionate wives and mothers, but their passions and emotions are so strong that these frequently hold reason in subjection or carry it away with them. They love too much, but they also hate too much. Jealousy can make wild beasts of them. Stepchildren, if hated by them, may even be done to death. " If evil is not in the ascendant, morality itself is associated with deep feeling, and may take a profoundly reasoned and independent course which will not always fit itself to conven- tional standards. It will not be an imitation or a submission: not a bid for a reward here or hereafter. It is only in intimate relations that the excellences and drawbacks of the impassioned woman are seen. Here she unfolds herself ; here are her joys and sorrows . . . here her faults and weaknesses are seen, perhaps slowness to forgive, implacability, sullenness, anger, jealousy, or even . . . uncontrolled passions. . . She is charmed with the moment . . . and less apt to think of the comfort and welfere of the absent .... she is disposed to forget others and forget time. If she is affected, her affectation is less an imitation than a pronounced change of manners and speech with changing shades of thought and especially of feeling. ... In social life she tends to be the same in all circles. ... In both domestic and social life she is as a rule not difficult to please, she spon- taneously appreciates, congratulates, and praises. She can soothe the mentally bruised and encourage the unsuccessful. In her there is compassion for all weak things, two-footed or four. . . . She rises to the high and stoops to the low, she is the sister and playmate of all nature. Her judgment is mild and lenient. When she reads she tries to grasp the inmost thought and deepest feeling of the book ; she reads and re-reads the book, marks it freely, and turns down its corners." From this description it is not difficult to recognize the introverted character. But the description is, in a certain sense, one-sided, because the chief stress is laid upon the side of feeling, without emphasizing the one TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 193 characteristic to which I give special value, viz. the conscious inner life. He mentions, it is true, that the introverted woman is "contemplative," but he does not pursue the matter further. His description, however, seems to me a confirmation of my comments upon the manner of his observation; in the main it is the outward demeanour constellated by feeling, and the manifestations of passions which strike him ; he does not probe into the nature of the conscious life of this type. Hence he never mentions that the inner life plays an altogether decisive r61e in the introvert's conscious psychology. Why, for example, does the introverted woman read so attentively ? Because above everything she loves to understand and comprehend ideas. Why is she restful and soothing? Because she usually keeps her feelings to herself, living them inwardly, instead of unloading them upon others. Her unconventional morality is based upon deep reflection and convincing inner feelings. The charm of her calm and intelligent character depends not merely upon a peaceful attitude, but derives from the fact that one can talk with her reasonably and coherently, and because she is able to estimate the value of her companion's argument She does not interrupt him with impulsive demonstrations, but accompanies his meaning with her thoughts and feel- ings, which none the less remain steadfast, never yielding to opposing arguments. This compact and well-developed ordering of conscious psychic contents is a stout defence against a chaotic and passionate emotional life, of which the introvert is very often aware, at least in its personal aspect: she fears it because it is present to her. She meditates about herself: she is therefore outwardly equable and can recognize and appreciate another, without loading him with either blame or approbation. But because her emotional life would devastate these good qualities, she as far as possible rejects 194 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER her instincts and affects, but without thereby mastering them. In contrast, therefore, to her logical and consolidated consciousness, her affect is proportionally elemental, con- fused and ungovernable It lacks the true human note ; it is disproportionate and irrational ; it is a phenomenon of Nature^ which breaks through the human order, It lacks any tangible arri&re pense or purpose : at times, therefore, it is quite destructive a wild torrent, that neither con- templates destruction nor avoids it, profoundly indifferent and necessary, obedient only to its own laws, a process that accomplishes itself. Her good qualities depend upon her thinking, which by a tolerant or benevolent compre- hension has succeeded in influencing or restraining one element of her instinctive life, though lacking the power to embrace and transform the whole. Her affectivity is far less clearly conscious to the introverted woman in its whole range than are her rational thoughts and feelings. She is incapable of comprehending her whole affectivity, although her way of looking at life is well adapted. Her affectivity is much less mobile than her intellectual con- tents : it is, as it were, tough and curiously inert, therefore hard to change ; it is perseverant, hence also her self-will and her occasional unreasonable inflexibility in things that touch her emotions. These considerations may explain why a judgment of the introverted woman, taken exclusively from the angle of affectivity, is incomplete and unfair in whatever sense it is taken. If Jordan finds the vilest feminine characters among the introverts, this, in my opinion, is due to the fact that he lays too great a stress upon affectivity, as if passion alone were the mother of all evil. We can torture children to death in other ways than the merely physical. And, from the other point- of-view, that wondrous wealth of love of the introverted woman is not always by any means her own possession i TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 193 she is more often possessed by it and cannot choose but love, until one day a favourable opportunity occurs, when suddenly, to the amazement of her partner, she displays an inexplicable coldness. The emotional life of the introvert is generally his weak side ; it is not absolutely trustworthy. He deceives himself about it ; others also are cjeceived and disappointed in him, when they rely too exclusively upon his affectivity. His mind is more reliable, because more adapted. His affect is too close to sheer untamed nature. () The Extroverted Woman (The less-impassioned woman) Let us now turn to Jordan's delineation of the " less impassioned woman ". Here too I must reject everything which the author has confused by the introduction of activity, since this admixture is only calculated to render the typical character less recognizable. Thus, when we speak of a certain quickness of the extravert, this does not mean the element of energy and activity, but merely the mobility of active processes. Of the extraverted woman Jordan says : x " She is marked by a certain quickness and opportuneness rather than by persistence or consistency. . . Her life is almost wholly occupied with little things. She goes even further than Lord Beaconsfield in the belief that unimportant things are not very unimportant, and important things not very important. She likes to dwell on the way her grandmother did things, and how her grandchildren will do them, and on the universal de- generacy of human beings and affairs. Her daily wonder is how things would go on if she were not there to look after them. She is frequently invaluable in social movements. She expends her energies in household clea.n1i.ness, which is the end and aim of existence to not a few women. Frequently she is ' idea-less, emotionless, restless and spotless '. Her emotional development is usually precocious, and at eighteen she is little less -wise than at twenty-eight or forty-eight. Her mental outlook usually lacks 196 TYPE-PROBLEM 'IN HUMAN CHARACTER range and depth, but it is clear from the first. When intelligent, she is capable of taking a leading position. In society she is kindly, generous and hospitable. She judges her neighbours and friends, forgetful that she is herself being judged, but she is active in helping them in misfortune. Deep passion is absent in her, love is simply preference, hatred merely dislike, and jealousy only injured pride. Her enthusiasm is not sustained, and she is more alive to the beauty of poetry than she is to its passion and pathos. . . . Her beliefs and disbeliefs are complete rather than strong. She has no convictions, but she has no misgivings. She does not believe, she adopts, she does not disbelieve, she ignores. She never enquires and never doubts. ... In large aflairs she defers to authority ; in small affairs she jumps to conclusions. In the detail of her own little world, whatever is, is wrong : in the larger world outside . . . whatever is, is right. . . . She instinctively rebels against carrying the conclusions of reason into practice. " At home she shows quite a different character from the one seen in society. With her, marriage is much influenced by ambition, love of change or obedience to well-recognized custom, and a desire to be ' settled in life', or from a sincere wish to enter a greater sphere of usefulness. If her husband belongs to the impassioned type, he will love children more than she does. " In the domestic circle her least pleasing characteristics are evident. Here she indulges in disconnected, disapproving comment, and none can foresee when there will be a gleam of sunshine through the cloud. The unemotional woman has little or no self-analysis. If she is plainly accused of habitual dis- approval she is surprised and offended, and intimates . . . that she only desires the general good ' but some people do not know what is good for them '. She has one way of doing good to her family, and quite another way where society is concerned. The household must always be ... ready for social inspection. Society must be encouraged and propitiated. ... Its upper section must be impressed and its lower section kept in order. . . . Home is her winter, society her summer. If the door but opens and a visitor is announced, the transformation is instant. " The less emotional woman is by no means given to asceticism ; respectability . . . does not demand it of her. She is fond of movement, recreation, change. , . . Her busy day may open with a religious service, and close with a comic opera. . . . She delights ... to entertain her friends and to be entertained by them. In society she finds not only her work and her happi- ness, but her rewards and her consolations. . . She believes in society, and society believes in her. Her feelings are little influenced by prejudice, and as a rule she is ' reasonable '. She TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 197 is very imitative and usually selects good models, but is only dimly conscious of her imitations. The books she reads must deal with life and action." This familiar type of woman, which Jordan terms the * less impassioned ", is extraverted beyond a doubt. The whole demeanour sets forth that character which from its very nature must be called extraverted. The continual criticizing, that is never founded upon real reflection, is an extraversion of a fleeting impression, which has nothing to do with true thinking. I remember a witty aphorism I once read somewhere or other : " Thinking is so difficult therefore most of us prefer to pass judgments" .* Reflection demands time above everything : therefore the man who reflects has no opportunity for continual criticism. Incoherent and inconsequent criticism, with its dependence upon tradition and authority, reveals the absence of any independent reflection ; similarly the lack of self-criticism and the dearth of independent ideas betrays a defect of the function of judgment. The absence of inner mental life in this type is expressed much more distinctly than is its presence in the introverted type depicted above. From this sketch one might readily conclude that there is here just as great or even a greater defect of affectivity, for it is obviously superficial, shallow, almost spurious; because the aim always involved in it or discernible behind it, makes the emotional effort practically worthless. I am, however, inclined to assume that the author is here undervaluing just as much as he overvalued in the former case. Notwithstanding an occasional recognition of good qualities, the type, on the whole, comes out of it very indifferently. I must assume in this case a certain bias on the part of the author. It is usually enough to have tasted a bitter experience, either with one or more repre- sentatives of a certain type, for one's taste to be spoiled * " Denken ist so schwer darum nrfceilen die MeisUn" ig8 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER for every similar case. One must not forget that, just as the good sense of the introverted woman depends upon a scrupulous accommodation of her mental contents to the general thought, the affectivity of the extraverted woman possesses a certain mobility and lack of depth, on account of her adaptation to the general life of human society. In this case, it is a question of a socially differentiated affectivity of incontestable general validity, which compares more than favourably with the heavy, sticky, passionate affect of the introvert The differentiated affectivity has cut away the chaotic affect, and has become a disposable function of adaptation, though at the expense of the inner mental life, which is remarkable by its absence. It none the less exists in the unconscious, and moreover in a form which corresponds with the passion of the introvert, *. in an undeveloped state. The character of this state is infantile and archaic. The undeveloped mind, working from the unconscious, provides the affective struggle with contents and hidden motives, which can not fail to make a bad impression upon the critical observer, although unperceived by the uncritical eye. The dis- agreeable impression that the constant perception of thinly veiled egoistic motives has upon the beholder makes one only too prone to forget the actual reality and adapted usefulness of the efforts thus displayed. All that is easy, unforced, moderate, unconcerned and super- ficial in life would disappear, if there were no differentiated affects. One would either be stifled in continuously manifested pathos, or be engulfed in the yawning void of repressed passion. If the social function of the introvert mainly perceives individuals, the extravert certainly promotes the life of the community, which also has a claim to existence. That is why he needs extra- version because first and foremost it is the bridge to one's neighbour. TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 199 As we all know, the expression of emotion works suggestively, while the mind can only unfold its effective- ness indirectly, by arduous translation. The affects required by the social function must not be at all deep, or they beget passion in others. And passion disturbs the life and prosperity of society. Similarly the adapted, differentiated mind of the introvert has extensity rather than depth; hence it is not disturbing and provocative but reasonable and sedative. But, just as the introvert is troublesome through the violence of his passion, the extravert is irritating through an incoherent and abrupt application of his half unconscious thoughts and feelings in the form of tactless and unsparing judgments upon his fellow-men. If we were to make a collection of such judgments and were to try synthetically to construct a psychology out of them, we should arrive at an utterly brutal conception, which in cheerless savagery, crudity, and stupidity, would be a fitting rival to the murderous affect-nature of the introvert. Hence I cannot subscribe to Jordan's view that the worst characters are to be found among the passionate introverted, natures. Among the extraverts there is just as much and just as basic wicked- ness. Whereas introverted passionateness reveals itself in coarse actions, the vulgarity of the extravert's unconscious thinking and feeling commits infamous deeds upon the soul of the victim. I know not which is worse. The drawback in the former case is that the deed is visible, while the latter*s vulgarity of mind is concealed behind the veil of .an acceptable demeanour. I would like to lay stress upon the social thoughtfulness of this type, his active concern for the general welfare, as well as a most definite tendency to provide pleasure for others. The introvert as a rule has these qualities only in phantasy. Differentiated affects have the further advantage of charm and beautiful form. They diffuse an aesthetic, 200 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER beneficent atmosphere. There are a surprising number of extraverts who practise an art (chiefly music) not so much because they are specially qualified in that direction as from a desire to be generally serviceable in social life. Extraverted fault-finding, moreover, is not always un- pleasant or wholly worthless in character. It very often confines itself to an adapted, educational tendency, which does a great deal of good. Similarly, his dependence of judgment is not necessarily evil under all circumstances, for it often conduces to the suppression of extravagant and pernicious out-growths, which in no way further the life and welfare of society. It would be altogether unjustifiable to try to maintain that one type is in any respect more valuable than the other. The types are mutually comple- mentary, and from their distinctiveness there proceeds just that measure of tension which both the individual and society need for the maintenance of life. (c) The Extraverted Man Of the extraverted man Jordan says (pp. 26 ff.) : " He is fitful and uncertain in temper and behaviour, given ... to petulance, fuss, discontent and censoriousness. He makes depreciatory judgments on all and sundry, but is ever well satisfied with himself. His judgment is often at fault and his projects often fail, but he never ceases to place unbounded confidence in both. Sidney Smith, speaking of a conspicuous statesman of his time, said he was ready at any moment to command the Channel Fleet or amputate a limb. . . . He has an incisive formtila for everything that is put before him ; . . . either the thing is not true or everybody knows it already. ... In his sky there is not room for two suns. ... If other suns insist on shining, he has a curious sense of martyrdom. . . . " He matures early : he is fond of administration, . , . and is often an admirable public servant. ... At the committee of his charity he is as much interested in the selection of its washer- woman as in the selection of its chairman. In company he is usually alert, to the point, witty, and apt at retort. He resolutely, confidently, and constantly shows himself. Experience helps him and he insists on getting experience. He would rather be TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 201 the known chairman of a committee of three than the unknown benefactor of a nation. When he is less gifted he is probably no less self-important. Is he busy ? He believes himself to be energetic. Is he loquacious ? He believes himself to be eloquent. " He rarely puts forth new ideas, or opens new paths . . . but he is quick to follow, to seize, to apply, to carry out. . . . His natural tendency is to ancient, or at least accepted forms of belief and policy. Special circumstances may sometimes lead him to contemplate with admiration the audacity of his own heresy. . . - Not rarely the less emotional intellect is so lofty and commanding, that no disturbing influence can hinder the formation of broad and just views in all the provinces of life. His life is usually characterized by morality, truthfulness, and high principle; but sometimes his desire for immediate effect leads him into difficulties. " If, in public assembly, adverse fates have given him nothing to do, nothing to propose, or second, or support, or amend, or oppose, he will rise and ask for some window to be closed to keep out a draught, or, which is more likely, that one be opened to let in more air; for physiologically, he commonly needs much air as well as much notice. . . . He is especially prone to do what he is not asked to do. . . He constantly believes that the public sees him, as he wishes it to see frfrn ... a sleep- less seeker of the public good. ... He puts others in his debt, and he cannot go unrewarded. He may, by well-chosen language, move his audience although he is not moved himself. He is probably quick to understand his time or at least his party . * . he warns it of impending evil, organizes its forces, deals smartly with its opponents. He is full of projects and bustling activity. Society must be pleased if possible, if it will not be pleased it must be astonished ; if it will neither be pleased nor astonished it must be pestered and shocked. He is a saviour by profession and as an acknowledged saviour is not ill pleased with himself. We can of ourselves do nothing right but we can believe hi him, dream of him, th^nlr God for him, and ask him to address us. " He is unhappy in repose, and rests nowhere long. After a busy day he must have a pungent evening. He is found in the theatre, or concert, or church, or the bazaar, at the dinner, or conversazione or club, or all these, turn and turn about. . . . If he misses a meeting, a telegram announces a more ostentatious calL" From this description the type is easily recognized. But, even more perhaps than in the description of the extraverted woman, there emerges notwithstanding 202 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER individual evidences of appreciation, an element of cari- caturing depreciation. This is partly due to the fact that this method of description cannot be just to the extraverted nature in general, because with the intellectual medium it is well-nigh impossible to set the specific value of the extravert in a fair light : while with the introvert this is much more possible, since his conscious motivation and goodsense permit of expression through the intellectual medium as readily as do the facts of his passion and its inevitable consequences. With the extravert, on the other hand, the chief value lies in his relation to the object. To me it seems that only life itself can concede the extravert that justice which intellectual criticism fails to give him. Life alone reveals and appreciates his values. We can, of course, state the fact that the extravert is socially useful, that he deserves great merit for the progress of human society, and so on. But an analysis of his means and motivations will always give a negative result, since the chief value of the extravert lies not in himself but in the reciprocal relation to the object The relation to the object belongs to those imponderabilia, which the intellectual formulation can never seize. Intellectual criticism cannot abstain from proceeding analytically : it must constantly seek evidence concerning motivation and aims, in order to bring the observed type to complete definition. But from this process a picture emerges which is no better than a caricature for the psychology of the extravert, and the man who is fain to believe he has found the extravert's real attitude upon the basis of such a description will be astonished to find the actual personality turning his description to ridicule. Such a one-sided conception entirely prevents any adapta- tion to the extravert. In order to do him justice, thinking about him must be altogether excluded; similarly the extravert can adjust himself correctly to the introvert only TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 203 when he is prepared to accept his mental contents in themselves quite apart from their possible practical applica- tion. Intellectual analysis cannot help charging the ex- travert with every possible design, subtle aim, mental reservation, and so forth, which have no actual existence, but at the most are only shadowy effects leaking in from the unconscious background. It is certainly true that the extravert, if he has nothing else to say, may find it necessary for a window to be opened or shut. But who has remarked it? Who is essentially struck by it ? Only the man who is trying to give an account of the possible grounds and intentions of such an action, one therefore who reflects, dissects, and reconstructs, while for everyone else this little stir is altogether dissolved in the general bustle of life, with- out offering an invitation to any ulterior deduction. But it is just in this way that the psychology of the extravert reveals itself: it belongs to the occurrences of daily human life, and it signifies nothing more, either above or below. But the man who reflects, sees further and as far as the actual life is concerned sees crooked, although his vision is sound enough as regards the un- conscious background. He does not see the positive man, but only his shadow. And the shadow admits the justice of the criticism, to the prejudice of the conscious, positive human being. For the sake of understanding, it is, I think, a good thing to detach the man from his shadow, the unconscious ; otherwise the discussion is threatened with an unparalleled confusion of ideas. One sees much in another man which does not belong ^ to his conscious psychology, but which gleams out from his unconscious, and one is rather tempted to regard the observed quality as belonging to the conscious ego. Life and fate may do this, but the psychologist, to whom the knowledge of the structure of the psyche and the dawning possibility 204 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER of a better understanding of man is of the deepest concern, must not. A clean discrimination of the conscious man from his unconscious is imperative, since only by the assimilation of conscious standpoints will clarity and understanding be gained, and never through a process of reduction to the unconscious backgrounds, side-lights, and quarter-tones. (d) The Introverted Man Of the character of the introverted man (the more impassioned and reflective man), Jordan says (p. 35): " His pleasures do not change from hour to hour, his love of pleasure is of a more genuine nature, and he does not seek it from mere restlessness. If he takes part in public work he is probably invited to do so from some special fitness ; or it may be that he has at heart some movement . . . which he wishes to promote. When his work is done he willingly retires. He is able to see what others can do better than he ; and he would rather that his cause should prosper in other hands than fail in his own. He has a hearty word of praise for his fellow-workers. Probably he errs in estimating too generously the merits of those around him. . . . He is never, and indeed cannot be, an habitual scold. Such men develop slowly, are liable to hesitate, never become the leaders of religious movements, are never so supremely confident as to what is error that they burn their neighbours for it; never so confident that they possess infallible truth that, although not wanting in courage, they are prepared to be burnt in its behalf. If they are especially endowed, they will be thrust into the front rank by their environment, while men of the other type place themselves there." To me it seems significant that the author in his chapter on the introverted man, with whom we are now concerned, actually says no more than I have substantially given above. A description of the passion on which account he is termed the "impassioned" type is for the most part omitted. One must, of course, be cautious in making diagnostic conjectures but this case seems to invite the supposition that the section on the introverted man has received such niggardly treatment from subjective TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER 205 causes. One might have expected, after the searching and unfair delineation of the extraverted type, a similar thoroughness of description for the introvert Why is it not forthcoming ? Let us suppose that Jordan himself is upon the side of the introverts. It would then be intelligible that a description like the one he gives to his opposite type with such pitiless severity, would scarcely be acceptable. I would not say because of a lack of objectivity, but rather for lack of discernment of his own shadow. How he appears to his counter-type, the introvert cannot possibly know or imagine, unless he allows the extravert a privileged recital of it, at the risk of being obliged to challenge him to a duel. Just as little as the extravert is disposed to accept the above characteristics without more ado, as a benevolent and striking picture of his character, is the introvert willing to receive his characteristics from an extraverted observer and critic. For it would be just as depreciatory. As the introvert, who tries to get hold of the nature of the extravert, invariably goes wide of the mark, so the extravert who tries to understand the other's inner mental life from the standpoint of externality is equally at sea. The introvert makes the mistake of always wanting to relate action to the subjective psychology of the extravert, while the extravert can only conceive the inner mental life as a product of external circumstances. For the extravert an abstract train of thought must be a phantasy, a sort of chimera, when an objective relation is not in evidence. And as a matter of fact introverted brain-weavings are often nothing more. At all events a lot could be said of the introverted man, and one could draw a shadow portrait of him neither less complete nor unfavourable than that which Jordan in his earlier section drew of the extravert Jordan's observation that the pleasure of the introvert 206 TYPE-PROBLEM IN HUMAN CHARACTER is of a "more genuine nature" seems to me important This appears to be a peculiarity of the introverted feeling in general : it is genuine ; it is because it just is ; it is rooted in the man's deeper nature; it wells up out of itself as it were, having itself as its own aim ; it will serve no other ends, lending itself to none, and is content to accomplish itself. This coincides with the spontaneity of the archaic and natural phenomenon, which has never yet bowed the head to the ends and aims of civilization. Whether rightly or wrongly, or at least without considera- tion of right or wrong, of suitability or unsuitability, the affective state manifests itself, forcing itself upon the subject even against his will and expectation. It contains nothing from which one might conclude a thought-out motivation. I. do not wish to enlarge upon the further sections of Jordan's book. He cites historical personalities as examples, whereby numerous distorted points of view appear which derive from the fallacy already referred to : i.e. the author introduces the criterion of active and passive, and mixes it up with other criteria. From this medley the conclusion is frequently drawn that an active personality must also be counted as a passion-less type, and, vice versa, a passionate nature must likewise always be passive. My standpoint seeks to avoid this error by altogether excluding the factor of activity as a point-of-view. To Jordan, however, the credit belongs of being the first, so far as I know, to give a relatively appropriate character-sketch of the emotional types, CHAPTER V THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN POETRY CARL SPITTELER'S PROMETHEUS AND EPIMETHEITS 1. Introductory Remarks on Spitteler's Characteriza- tion of Types IF, among the themes offered to the poet by the intricacies of emotional life, the problem of types did not play a significant rdle, it would practically prove that such a problem did not exist But we have already seen how in Schiller this problem stirred the poet in him as deeply as the thinker. In this chapter we shall turn our attention to a poetic work which is almost exclusively based upon the motif of the type-problem. I refer to Carl Spitteler's Prometheus and Epimetheus, which first appeared in 1881. I have no wish to explain at the outset that Prometheus, the forethinker, stands for the introvert, while Epimetheus, the man of action and after-thinker, signifies the extravert In the conflict of these two figures the principal issue is the battle of the introverted with the extraverted line of development in one and the same individual, though the poetic presentation has embodied the conflict in two independent figures with their typical destinies. It is self-evident that Prometheus exhibits introverted character traits, He presents the picture of a man faith- fully introverted to his inner world, true to his soul. His reply to the angel is a telling expression of his nature 1 : "Yet it is not mine to judge my soul's appearance, for behold, my mistress she is, my god in joy and sorrow, i Prometheus und Epimsthtus. Diedrich's Edition, 1920, p. 9. 907 208 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY and whatsoever I am, I have from her alone, And so, with her, will I share my glory, and if need be boldly will I renounce it" In this act Prometheus surrenders himself uncondition- ally to his own soul, . to the function of relation to the inner world. Hence the soul has also a mysterious metaphysical character, precisely on account of its relation to the unconscious. Prometheus concedes it absolute significance, as mistress and guide, in the same uncondi- tional manner in which Epimetheus yields himself to the world. He sacrifices his individual ego to the soul, to the relation with the unconscious, as the mother-womb of eternal images and meanings ; he thereby surrenders the Self, since he loses the counterweight of the persona 1 , ***. the relation to the external object With this surrender to his soul Prometheus drops away from every connection with the surrounding world, thus escaping the indispensable correction gained through external reality. But this loss is irreconcilable with the nature of this world. Therefore an angel appears to Prometheus, clearly a representative of world-government : expressed psychologically, he is the projected image of a tendency directed towards reality- adaptation. The angel accordingly says to Prometheus : " It shall come to pass, if thon dost not prevail and free thyself from thy soul's unrighteous way, that the great reward of inany years and thy heart's content and all the fruits of thy subtle mind shall be lost unto thee." And in another place : " Rejected shalt thou be on the day of glory for the sake of thy soul, who knoweth no God and heedeth no law, for to her arrogance nothing is holy, neither in heaven nor upon earth." Because Prometheus has a one-sided orientation to his soul ; every impulse towards adaptation to the outer world * Ci Jung : La structure d* Vinconscitnt (Arch, de Psych., vol zvi), and Analytical Psychology, ch. XV. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 209 tends to be repressed and to sink into the unconscious. Consequently, if perceived at all, they appear as separate from the individuality, hence as projections. In this connection it would seem that there is a certain contra- diction in the fact that the soul, whose cause Prometheus has espoused and which he as it were. accepted in full consciousness, appears as a projection. Since the soul, like the persona, is a function of relationship, it must consist in a certain sense of two parts, one part belonging to the individuality and the other adhering to the object of relationship, in this case the unconscious. One is indeed generally inclined unless one is a frank adherent of the Hartmann philosophy to grant the unconscious only the relative existence of a psychological factor. On the grounds of the theory of cognition, we are as yet quite unable to make any valid statement with regard to an objective reality of the phenomenal psychological complex which we term the unconscious, just as we are equally powerless to determine anything valid about the nature of real things which lie beyond our psychological capacity. On the ground of experience, I must, however, point out that in relation to our conscious activity the contents of the unconscious make the same claim to reality by virtue of their obstinacy and persistence, as do the real things of the outer world, even when this challenge appears very improbable to a mentality with a preferential bias towards external reality. It must not be forgotten that there have always been many for whom the contents of the un- conscious possessed a greater reality than the things of the outer world. The history of human thought bears witness to both realities. A more searching investigation of the human psyche shows unquestionably that there is, on the whole, an equally strong influence from both sides upon conscious activity ; so that, psychologically, we have a right on purely empirical grounds to treat the contents 210 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY of the unconscious as just as real as the things of the outer world, albeit these two realities may be mutually contra- dictory and appear entirely different in their natures. But to superordinate one reality over the other would be an altogether unjustifiable presumption. Theosophy and spiritualism are no better than materialism in their outrageous encroachments upon reality. We have, in fact, to resign ourselves to the sphere of our psychological possibilities. The peculiar reality of unconscious contents, therefore, gives us the same right to describe these as objects as the things of the outer world. Whereas the persona, con- sidered as a relation, is always conditioned by the outer object, and hence is as firmly anchored in the outer object as it is in the subject ; the soul, as the relation to the inner object, is similarly represented by the inner object; in a sense, therefore, it is always distinct from the subject, and is actually perceptible as something distinct. Hence it appears to Prometheus as something quite separate from his individual ego. In the same way as a man who yields himself entirely to the outer world still has the world as an object distinct from himself, so the unconscious world of images remains as an object distinct from the subject, even when a man is wholly surrendered to it. Just as the unconscious world of mythological images speaks indirectly, through the experience of external things, to the man who abandons himself to the outer world, so the real world and its claims find their way in- directly to the man who has surrendered himself to the soul ; for no man can escape both realities. If a man is fixed upon the outer reality, he must live his myth ; if he is turned towards the inner reality, then must he dream his outer, his so-called real life. Thus the soul says to Prometheus : " A God of crime am I who leadeth th.ee astray upon untrodden paths. But thou would' st not hearken unto me, and now hath it THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 211 come to pass according to my words ; for my sake have they robbed th.ee of the glory of thy name and stolen from thee thy life's content." 1 Prometheus refuses the kingdom the angel offers him ; which means that he refuses adaptation to things as they are because his soul is demanded from him in exchange. While the subject, *'.*. Prometheus, is essentially human, the soul is of quite a different character. It is daemonic, because the inner object, namely the supra-personal collective unconscious to which it is attached as the function of relation, gleams through it. The unconscious, regarded as the historical background of the psyche, contains in a concentrated form the entire succession of engrams (imprints), which from time immemorial have determined the psychic structure as it now exists. These engrams may be regarded as function-traces which typify, on the average, the most frequently and intensely used functions of the human soul. These function-engrams present themselves in the form of mythological themes and images, appearing often in identical form and always with striking similarity among all races ; they can also be easily verified in the unconscious material of modern man. It is intelligible, therefore, that avowedh animal traits or elements should also appear among the un- conscious contents by the side of those sublime figures which from oldest times have accompanied man on the road of life. The unconscious disposes of a whole world of images, whose boundless range yields in nothing to the claims of the world of " real " things. To the one who personally surrenders himself wholly to the outer world the unconscious comes in the form of some intimate and beloved being, in whom, should his destiny lie in extreme devotion to the personal object, he will experi- ence the duality of the world and his own nature; in i Prometheus and Epimetheus, pp. 24 ft 212 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY like manner there comes to the other a daemonic personi- fication of the unconscious embodying the totality, the extreme oppositeness and duality of the world of images. These are border-line phenomena which overstep the normal ; hence the normal mind knows nothing of these cruel enigmas. They do not exist for him . It is always only the few who reach the rim of the world, where its mirage begins. For the mari who stands always upon the normal path the soul has a human, and not a dubious, daemonic character ; neither do his fellow-men appear to him in the least problematical. Only complete abandonment either to one world or to the other evokes their duality. Spitteler's intuition caught that picture of the soul which in a less profound nature would at most have found utterance in dreams. Accordingly we read (ibid., p. 25) : " And, while he thus demeaned himself in the fury of his passion, there played a strange quiver about her mouth and face, and ever and again her eyelids flickered, shutting and opening hastily, and behind the soft, delicate fringe of her lashes there lurked something which threatened and crept about like the fire which glideth stealthily through the house, or like the tiger stealing among the bushes while from the dark foliage, in broken flashes, gleameth ever and anon his yellow mottled flanks." The line of life which Prometheus chooses is thus unmistakably introverted. He sacrifices all connection with the present, in order to create in anticipation the distant future. It is very different with Epimetheus\ he realizes that his aim is the world, and what the world values. Hence he says to the angel: "Yet now I long for truth, and my soul lieth in thy hand ; an it please thee, therefore, give me a conscience that will teach me ' -tion ' and ' -ness ' and every just precept" Epimetheus cannot resist the temptation to fulfil his own destiny and submit himself to the " soulless " point THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 213 of view. This junction with the world is immediately rewarded. " And it came to pass, as Epimetheus rose up, that he felt his stature was increased and his courage more steadfast ; he was at one with all his being, and his whole feeling was sound and mightily at ease. And thus he strode with bold steps through the valley, on a straight course, as one who feareth no man; and with a bold glance like a man inspired by the contemplation of his own riches." He has, as Prometheus says, bartered his free soul for " -tion " and " -ness ". The soul is lost to him in favour of his brother. He has followed his extraversion, and because this orientates him towards the external object, he is caught up in the desires and expectations of the world seemingly at first to his great advantage. He has become an extravert, after having lived many solitary years under the influence of his brother as an extravert falsified through imitation of the introvert Such involuntary "simulation dans le caract&re" (Paulhan) occurs not infrequently. His conversion to true extraversion is, therefore, a step towards ' truth ', and deservedly brings him a partial reward. Whilst Prometheus, through the tyrannical claims of his soul, is hampered in every relation to the external object and has to make the cruellest sacrifices in the service of the soul, Epimetheus receives an immediately effective shield against the danger that most threatens the extravert, viz. a complete surrender to the external object This protection consists in the conscience which is based upon traditional " right ideas " ; and which, there- fore, possesses that not-to-be-despised treasure of inherited worldly wisdom which is employed by public opinion in much the same fashion as the judge uses the penal code. This provides Epimetheus with a circumscribed code which restrains him from abandoning himself to objects in the same degree as Prometheus does to his 2i 4 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY soul. This is forbidden him by the conscience, which stands in the place of his soul. When Prometheus turns his back upon the world of men and its codified con- science, he falls into the hands of his cruel soul-mistress with her arbitrary power, and only through endless suffer- ing does he make expiation for his neglect of the world. The prudent restraint of a blameless conscience sets such a bandage over Epimetheus 1 eyes that he must blindly live his myth, but ever with the sense of doing right, since he dwells in constant harmony with general expectation, with success ever at his side since he fulfils the wishes of all. Thus men desire to see the King, and thus Epimetheus plays his part to the inglorious end, never forsaken by the strong backing of public approval His self-assurance and self-righteousness, his unshakable con- fidence in his general worth, his unquestionable right-doing and good conscience, present an easily recognizable portrait of that extraverted character which Jordan depicted. Compare p. 102 and the following pages, describing the visit of Epimetheus to the sick Prometheus, where King Epimetheus is anxious to heal his suffering brother : " And when all was duly accomplished the king stepped forth, and, supported by a friend on the left hand and on the right, he lifted up his voice in greeting and spake these well- intentioned words : ' My heart grieveth me on thy account, Prometheus, my beloved brother. But now take heart, for behold I have here a salve of virtue for every ill. Wond'rous is its healing power both in heat and in frost, and thou mayest use it alike to comfort or chastize thyself.' " And speaking thus he took his staff, and bound the salve fast and proffered it him all warily with weighty mien. But hardly had Prometheus perceived the odour and aspect of the ointment than he turned his head away with disgust. Where- upon the King changed the tones of his voice, and began to cry aloud and to prophesy with great heat: ' Of a truth it seemeth thou hast need of greater punishment, since thy present fate doth not suffice to teach thee.' And, speaking thus, he drew a mirror from his cloak, and declared unto him all things from the beginning, and became very eloquent and knew all his faults." THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 215 The words of Jordan are speakingly illustrated in this scene: " Society must be pleased if possible; if it will not be pleased, it must be astonished ; if it will neither be pleased nor astonished, it must be pestered and shocked." In the above scene we find almost the same climax. In the Orient a rich man makes known his rank by never showing himself in public unless supported by two slaves. Epimetheus affects this pose in order to make an im- pression. Well-doing must at the same time be combined with admonition and moral discourse. And, as that does not produce an effect, the other must at least be horrified by the picture of his own baseness. Thus everything is aimed towards making an impression. There is an American saying which runs : " In America, two sorts of men make good the man who can do something, and the man who can bluff well." Which means that pretence is sometimes just as successful as actual performance. An extravert of this kind preferably makes his effect by appearance. The introvert tries to force the situation and to this end may even abuse his work. If we fuse Prometheus and Epimetheus into one personality, we should have a man outwardly Epimethean and inwardly Promethean an individual constantly torn by both tendencies, each seeking to enlist the ego finally on its side. 2. A Comparison of Spitteler's with Goethe's Prometheus Considerable interest is to be found in comparing this Prometheus conception with that presented by, Goethe. I believe I am justified in the conjecture that Goethe belongs more vto the extraverted than the introverted type, while Spitteler would seem to belong to the latter. Only an exhaustive examination and analysis of Goethe's 216 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY biography could succeed in establishing the justice of this assumption. My conjecture is based upon divers impres- sions, which I will refrain from discussing owing to my inability to furnish sufficient explanations. The introverted attitude need not necessarily coincide with the Prometheus figure, by which I mean that the traditional Prometheus figure can also be interpreted quite differently. This other version is found, for instance, in Plato's Protagoras, where the distributer of vital powers to the creature fashioned by the gods in equal measure out of earth and fire is Epimetheus and not Prometheus. Prometheus (conforming with classical taste both in this situation and throughout the myth) is principally the cunning and inventive genius. With Goethe two conceptions are presented. In the Prometheus Fragment of 1773 Prometheus is the defiant, self-sufficing, godlike, god-disdaining creator and artist. His soul is Minerva, daughter of Zeus. Prometheus 1 relation with Minerva has a clear similarity with the relation of Spitteler's Prometheus with his soul. Thus Prometheus says to Minerva : " From the beginning thy words have been celestial light to me.. * Ever as tho* my soul spake unto herself, She revealed herself ; And in her of their own accord sister harmonies rang out, And when I deemed it was myself, A deity gave utterance ; And did I dream a god was speaking, Lo I 'twas mine own voice. And thus with thee and me, So one, so closely-knit are we, My love is thine eternally 1 " and further : " As the twilight glory of the departed son Hovereth over the gloomy Caucasus, And encompasseth my soul with holy peace ; Parting, yet ever present with me, So have my powers waxed strong, With every breath drawn from thy celestial air." THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 217 Thus Goethe's Prometheus is also dependent upon his soul. There is a strong resemblance to the relationship of Spitteler's Prometheus with his souL Thus the latter says to his soul : " And though I be stripped of all, yet am I rich beyond all measure so long as thou alone remainest with me, while ' my friend ' falleth from thy sweet lips, and the light of thy proud and gracious countenance goeth not from me." In spite of the similarity of the two figures and their relations with the soul, there remains, however, an essential difference. Goethe's Prometheus is a creator and artist ; Minerva inspires his clay-images with life. Spitteler's Prometheus is suffering rather than creative; only his soul creates and her creating is secret and mysterious. She says to him in farewell : " And now I depart from thee, for lo I a great work awaiteth me ; 'tis a mighty deed, and I must hasten to accomplish it." It would seem that, with Spitteler, the Promethean creativeness is allotted to the soul, while Prometheus himself merely suffers the pangs of a creative soul. But Goethe's Prometheus is self-active; he is essentially and exclusively creative, defying the gods out of the strength of his own creative power : " Who helped me Against the insolence of the Titans ? Who rescued me from death ? From slavery ? Didst thou not thyself accomplish all O sacred, glowing heart ? " Eptmetheus in this fragment is only sparingly sketched ; he is throughout inferior to Prometheus ; an advocate of collective feeling, who can only understand the service of the soul as obstinacy. Thus he says to Prometheus : " Thou standest alone 1 Thy obstinacy knoweth not that bliss, when the gods and thou and all thou hast, thy world, thy heaven, are enfolded in one embracing unity." H* 2i8 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY Such indications as are to be found in the Prometheus fragment are too sparse to enable us to discern the char- acter of Epimetheus. But the delineation of Goethe's Prometheus reveals a typical distinction from the Prometheus of Spitteler. Goethe's Prometheus creates and works outwardly in the world; he peoples space with the figures he has fashioned and his soul has animated; he fills the earth with the offspring of his creation ; he is both master and educator of man. But with the Prometheus of Spitteler everything goes to the world within and vanishes in the darkness of the soul's depths ; just as he himself disappears from the world of men, even wandering from the narrow confines of his home, that he may become the more invisible. In accordance with the principle of compensa- tion (a basic principle in our analytical psychology) the soul, i.e. the personification of the unconscious, must be especially active in such a case, preparing a work which, however, is as yet invisible. Besides the passages already quoted, Spitteler gives us a complete description of this anticipated compensation- process. This we find in the Pandora interlude. Pandora, that enigmatical figure in the Prometheus myth, is in Spitteler's creation the divine maid who lacks every relation with Prometheus but the very deepest. This conception is founded upon the version of the myth in which the woman who figures in the Prometheus relation is either Pandora or Athene. The Prometheus of mythology has his soul-relation with Pandora or Athene, as in Goethe. But, in Spitteler, a noteworthy departure is introduced which, however, is already indicated in the historical myth, where the Prometheus-Pandora relation is contaminated with the Hephaestus-Athene analogy. With Goethe, the version Prometheus - Athene is preferred. But, in Spitteler, THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 219 Prometheus is removed from the divine sphere and is given a soul of his own. But his divinity and his original relation with Pandora in the myth are preserved as a cosmic counterplot, enacted independently in the celestial sphere. The- happenings of the other world are the things that take place on the further side of our consciousness, that is in the unconscious. The Pandora interlude, there- fore, is a presentation of what goes on in the unconscious during the suffering of Prometheus. When Prometheus vanishes from the world, destroying every link that binds him to mankind, he sinks into the depths of himself, into his walled-in isolation his only object himself. And * godlike* withal, for God, according to his definition, is the Being who is universally self-contained, who by virtue of his omnipresence has Himself as universal object. Naturally Prometheus does not feel in the least godlike he is supremely wretched. After Epimetheus has come to spit upon his misery, the interlude in the other world begins, in that moment, naturally, when all Prometheus' relations to the world are suppressed to the extreme limit Experience shows that it is such moments that yield the unconscious contents the likeliest possibility of gaining independence and vitality, even to the point of over- powering consciousness 1 . Prometheus' condition in the unconscious is reflected in the following scene : " And on the clouded morning of the same day, in a still and solitary meadow above all the worlds, wandered God, the creator of all life, pursuing the accursed round in obedience to the strange nature of his mysterious and sore sickness. For by reason of this sickness he could never make an end of his revolving task, might never find rest for his feet upon the' weary path ; but ever with measured stride day after day, and year after year, with heavy gait, and bowed head, with furrowed brow and distorted countenance, must he make the round of * Cf. Jung, The Content of the Psychoses (Collected Papers, ch. xii) ; Idem, Psychology of the Unconscious. 220 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the still meadow ; whilst ever towards the mid-point of the circle sped his darkling eye. And as to-day he performed the daily inevitable round, while the more sorrowfully he sunk his head, and the more he dragged his heavy steps for weariness, as though the grievous vigils of the night had spent the very fountain of his life, there came to him through the night and the dim dawn, Pandora, his youngest daughter, who approached with uncertain steps, honouring the hallowed ground, and stood there humbly at his side, greeting him with modest glance, and questioned him with lips that held a reverential silence/' It is at once evident that God has the malady of Prometheus. Just as Prometheus allows all his passion, his whole libido to flow inwards to the soul, to his inner- most depths, in complete dedication to his soul's service, his God also pursues his course round and round the pivot of the world, thus spending himself like Prometheus, whose whole being comes near to extinction. Which means that his libido has entirely passed over into the unconscious, where an equivalent must be prepared ; for libido is energy which cannot disappear without a trace it must always create an equivalent. The equivalent is Pandora and the gift she brings the father, for she brings him a precious jewel which she intends for the easing of men's woes. If we translate this process into Prometheus' human sphere, it would mean that while Prometheus is suffering his * godlike' state, his soul is preparing a work destined to alleviate the sufferings of mankind. His soul wants to get to men. Yet the work which his soul actually plans and carries out is not identical with the work of Pandora. Pandora's jewel is an unconsciously mirrored image which symbolically represents the actual work of Prometheus' soul. The text shows unmistakably what the jewel is. It is a God-deliverer, a renewal of the sun *. This longing expresses itself in the sickness of the God : he longs for * Respecting this theme of the treasure and rebirth, I must refer the reader to my book Psychology of the Unconscious. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 221 rebirth, and to this end his whole life-force flows back into the centre of the self, *. into the depths of the unconscious, out of which life is born anew. This may explain why the appearance of the jewel in the world is depicted in such curious assonance with the scene of the birth of Buddha in the Lalitavistara 1 . Pandora lays the jewel beneath a walnut tree (just as Maya bears her child under a fig-tree) : " In the midnight shades beneath the tree it glows and sparkles and flames, and, like the morning star in the dark heavens, its diamond lightning flashes afar. Then sped on eager wing the bees and butterflies, which danced above the flower garden to play and sport around the wonder child . . . and out of the heavens came larks in steep descent, eager to pay homage to the new and lovelier sun-countenance, and as they drew near and beheld the bright radiance, their hearts swooned. . . . And, enthroned over all, fatherly and benign, the chosen tree with his giant crown and heavy mantle of green, held his kingly hands protectingly over the faces of his children. And all his ample branches bowed themselves lovingly down and leaned towards the earth as though they wished to screen and ward off curious eyes, jealous that they alone might enjoy the gift's unmerited favour ; while all the myriads of gently-moving leaves fluttered and trembled with rapture, murmuring in joyous exultation a soft, clear-toned chorus in whispered accord : ' Who could know what lies hidden beneath this lowly roof, or guess the treasure reposing in our midst.' " So with Maya, who, when her hour was come, bore her child beneath the Plaksa fig-tree, which drooped its sheltering crown to earth. From the incarnate Bodhisattva unimaginable radiance extended over the world ; Gods and Nature alike took part in the birth. As Bodhisattva treads the earth there grows at his feet an immense lotus, and standing in the lotus he views the world. Hence the Thibetan prayer: " Om mani padme hum " (" Oh ! behold the jewel in the lotus"). The moment of re-birth finds Bodhisattva beneath i Spitteler, I.e., p. 126. 222 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the chosen bodhi-trce, where he becomes Buddha (the Enlightened One). This re-birth, or renewing, is accompanied by the same dazzling light, the same prodi- gies and apparitions of gods, as at the birth. But in the kingdom of Epimetheus, where in place of the soul conscience reigns, the inestimable treasure gets lost The angel raging over the stupidity of Epimetheus, reviles him : * And hadst thou no soul, that like the wild and unreasoning beasts thou should'st hide thyself from the wondrous Godhead?" l We see that Pandora's jewel is a renewal of the god, a new god; but this takes place in the heavenly sphere, i.e. in the unconscious. Such intimations of the process as penetrate consciousness are not understood by the Epimethean element, which dominates the relation to the world. This is elaborately presented by Spitteler in the following passages [/.. the highest symbolic expression of living value, cannot also become a living fact Hence the loss of the jewel also signifies the beginning of Epimetheus* downfall. And now the enantiodromia begins. Instead of taking for granted, as every rationalist and optimist is inclined to do, that a good state will be followed by a better, since everything tends towards "upward development", the man of blameless conscience and universally acknowledged moral principles makes a compact with Behemoth and his THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 229 evil host, and even the divine children entrusted to his care are bartered to the devil. Psychologically, this means that the collective, undiffer- entiated attitude to the world stifles man's highest values ; it thus becomes a destructive power, whose influence multi- plies until a point is reached when the Promethean side, namely the ideal and abstract attitude, places itself at the service of the soul, and, like a true Prometheus, kindles for the world a new fire. Spitteler's Prometheus has to come out of his solitude and tell men, even at the risk of his life, that they are in error, and where they err. He must acknowledge the relentlessness of truth, just as Goethe's Prometheus, in Phileros, has to experience the relentlessness of love. That the destructive element in the Epimethean attitude is actually this traditional and collective restrictiveness is clearly shown in Epimetheus' raging fury against the "lamb", an obvious caricature of traditional Christianity. In this affect something gleams through which is already familiar to us in the approximately contemporary Asses* Feast of Zarathustra. It is the expression of a contem- porary tendency. Mankind is constantly inclined to forget that what was once good does not remain good eternally. He goes along the old ways that once were good, long after they have become injurious to him; only through the greatest sacrifices and with untold suffering can he rid himself of this delusion, and discern that what was good once is now perhaps grown old and is good no longer. This is so in the little things as in the big. The ways and customs of his childhood, once so sublimely good, he can barely lay aside even when their harmfulness has long since been proved. The same, only on a gigantic scale, is the case with historical changes of attitude. A general attitude corresponds with a religion, and changes of religion belong 23* THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY to the most painful moments in the world's history. In this respect our age has a blindness without parallel. We think we have only to declare an acknowledged form of faith to be incorrect or invalid, to become psychologically free of all the traditional effects of the Christian or Judaic religion. We believe in enlightenment, as if an intellectual change of opinion had somehow a deeper influence on emotional processes, or indeed upon the unconscious 1 We entirely forget that the religion of the last two thousand years is a psychological attitude, a definite form and manner of adaptation to inner and outer experience, which moulds a definite form of civilization; it has, thereby, created an atmosphere which remains wholly uninfluenced by any intellectual disavowal. The intellectual change is, of course, symptomatically important as a hint of coming possibilities, but the deeper levels of the psyche continue for a long time to operate in the former attitude, in accord- ance with psychic inertia. In this way the unconscious has preserved paganism alive. The ease with which the classic spirit springs again into life can be observed in the Renaissance. The readiness with which the vastly older primitive spirit reappears can be seen in our own time, even better perhaps than in any other historically known epoch. The more deeply rooted the attitude, the more effective must be the means that shall set it free, "itcrasez Tinfame ", the cry of the age of enlightenment, heralded the religious upheaval within the. French revolution, which, viewed psychologically, meant nothing but an essential readjustment of attitude, which, however, was lacking in universality. The problem of a general change of attitude has never slept since that time ; it leaped to the surface again in many prominent minds of the nineteenth century. We have seen how Schiller sought to master the problem. In Goethe's treatment of the Prometheus and THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 231 Epimetheus problem we again recognize the attempt to make some sort of reconciliation between the more highly differentiated function, corresponding with the Christian ideal of favouring the good, and the relatively undifferen- tiated function whose repression and non-recognition corresponds with the Christian ideal of rejecting the evil \ In the symbols of Prometheus and Epimetheus, the diffi- culty which Schiller endeavoured to master philosophi- cally and aesthetically, is shrouded in the garment of the classical myth. Therewith something happens which, as I pointed out earlier, is altogether typical and regular: namely, when a man meets a difficult task which he cannot master with the means at his command, a retrograde movement of the libido automatically begins, i.e. a regres- sion occurs. The libido draws away from the problem of the moment, becomes introverted, and activates a more or less primitive analogy of the conscious situation in the unconscious together with an earlier mode of adaptation. This law determines Goethe's choice of a symbol: Prometheus was the saviour who brought life and fire to mankind languishing in darkness. Goethe's deep scholarship could easily have found another saviour ; the actual form of the determinant, therefore, is not sufficiently explained. The explanation must lie rather in the classical spirit, which was felt to contain an absolutely compensatory value for that particular time (the turning point of the eighteenth century) ; it was expressed in every possible way, in aesthetics, philosophy, morals, even politics (philhellenism). It was the Paganism of antiquity, glorified as "freedom", "naivet", "beauty", and so on, which responded to the yearnings of that time. This yearning, as Schiller so clearly shows, arose from i Cf. Goethe's GeMmnisse. There the Rosicrucian solution is attempted, namely the reconciliation of the rose and the cross, Dionysos and Christ. The poem leaves us cold. One cannot pour new wine into old bottles. 232 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY a feeling of incompleteness, of spiritual barbarism, of moral servitude, of ugliness. These feelings proceeded collectively and individually from a one-sided valuation, whose inevitable consequences enabled the psychological dissociation between the more highly and the less differen- tiated functions to become manifest. The Christian dis- memberment of mankind into a valuable and worthless portion was unbearable to that age, - which, compared with earlier times, was much more highly sensitized. Sinfulness had stumbled upon the idea of an everlasting, natural beauty, a conception which was already possible for that age ; it reached backwards, therefore, to an older time when the idea of sinfulness had not yet disrupted the unity of mankind, when both the higher and lower in human nature could still live together in complete naivetd without offending moral or aesthetic susceptibilities. But the effort towards a regressive renaissance shared the fate of the Prometheus Fragment and the Pandora; it was still-born. The classical solution would no longer do, for the intervening centuries of Christianity, with their profound tides of spiritual experience, could not be denied. Hence the penchant for the antique had to content itself with a gradual attenuation into the medieval form. This process becomes manifest in Goethe's Faust, where the problem is seized by the horns. The divine wager between good and evil is accepted. Faust, the medieval Prometheus, enters the lists with Mephistopheles, the medieval Epimetheus, and makes a pact with him. And here the problem is already so well focussed that we can see that Faust and Mephisto are one and the same individual. The Epimethean element which refers all things to the retrospective angle, and leads them back into the original chaos of " fluid shapes of possibilities," is sharpened into the form of the devil whose evil power opposes every living thing with " the cold devil's fist " and THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 233 who would force the light back into the maternal darkness from which it was born. The devil has throughout a true Epimethean thinking, the "nothing but" intellectual attitude, which reduces everything living to original nothingness. The naive passion of Epimetheus for the Pandora of Prometheus becomes Mephistopheles' devil's plot for the soul of Faust And the cunning foresight of Prometheus in declining the divine Pandora is expiated in the tragedy of the Gretchen episode and the yearning for Helen, with its belated fulfilment, and in the endless ascent to the heavenly Mothers (" The eternal feminine draws us upwards "). We have the Promethean defiance of the accepted gods in the figure of the medieval magician. The magician has preserved a trace of primitive paganism l ; in himself there is an element still untouched by the Christian cleavage, i.e. he has access to the unconscious that is still pagan, where the opposites still lie together in their primeval nai'vet^, beyond the reach of "sinfulness," but liable, when accepted into conscious life, to beget evil as well as good with the same primeval and therefore daemonic force. ("A part of that power which ever willeth evil while ever creating the good ")*. He is, therefore, a destroyer as well as a deliverer. Hence this figure is pre-eminently fitted to become the bearer of the reconciling symbol. Moreover, the medieval magician has laid aside the antique nafvet which is no longer possible, and through stern experience has thoroughly absorbed the Christian atmosphere. His pagan element immediately urges him to a complete Christian denial and mortification of self; his craving for deliverance is so imperative that every possible means i We frequently find that it is the representatives of older nationali- ties who possess magical powers. In India it is the Nepaulese, in Europe the gipsies, and in Protestant regions the Capuchin friars. Faust, Part i. Sc. i: Stadierzimmer. 234 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY must be seized. But in the end the Christian attempt at solution also fails, and .then it is seen that it is precisely the longing for deliverance, the obstinacy and self-confidence of the heathen element, which offers the real possibility for deliverance, because the anti-christian symbol affords a possibility for the acceptance of evil. Goethe's intuition, therefore, has apprehended the problem with enviable clarity. It is certainly characteristic that the other more superficial attempts at solution the Prometheus Fragment^ the Pandora, and the Rosicrucian compromise 1 with its attempt at a syncretism of Dionysian joyousness with Christian self - sacrifice remained uncompleted. Faust's redemption begins with his death. His life sustains the Promethean divine character which only falls from him in death, ie. with his re-birth. Psychologically, this means that the Faust attitude must cease before the unity of the individual can be accomplished. The figure which first appeared as Gretchen and then on a higher level as Helen, and finally became exalted into the Mater Gloriosa, is a symbol that I cannot now exhaust of its manifold meanings. I will merely point out that it deals with the same archaic image with which the Gnosis was so profoundly concerned, viz. the idea of the divine harlot, Eve, Helen, Mary, and Sophia- Achamoth. 3. The Significance of the Reconciling Symbol If from the standpoint now gained we glance once more at the unconscious elaboration of the problem by Spitteler, we appreciate at once that the compact with evil originates, not in the aim of Prometheus, but in the thoughtlessness of Epimetheus, who only possesses a collective conscience and no power of discrimination for the l Die Gefoimnisst. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 235 things of the inner world. As invariably happens with the collective standpoint that is orientated to the object, he allows himself to be determined exclusively by collective values, and consequently overlooks what is new and original. Current collective values are certainly mensurable by the objective standard, but only a free and unfettered valuation a matter of living feeling can yield a true estimate of the thing that is newly created. But such an appreciation belongs to the man possessing a soul, and not merely relations to external objects. The downfall of Epimetheus begins with the loss of the new-born, divine image. His incontestably moral thinking, feeling, and acting in no way hinder the evil, hollow, and destructive from creeping in. This invasion of evil signifies a conversion of something previously good into something definitely harmful. In this fashion Spitteler expresses the idea that the moral principle hitherto prevailing, although excellent to begin with, loses with the lapse of time its essential connection with life, since it no longer embraces the abundance and variety of life. The ration- ally correct is too meagre a concept upon which to. found a hope for an adequate and permanent expression of life in its totality. But the irrational occurrence of the divine birth stands beyond the frontiers of the rational kingdom. Psychologically, the divine birth heralds the fact that a new symbol, a new expression of supreme vital intensity, is being created. Every Epimethean element in man and every Epimethean man is incapable of comprehending this event Yet from this moment the supreme intensity of life is to be found only upon the new line. Every other direction falls gradually away, dissolving into oblivion. The new symbol, the bestower of life, springs from Prometheus' love for his soul, a figure pregnant with daemonic characters. One may be sure, therefore, that, 236 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY interwoven in the new symbol with its living beauty, there is also the element of evil, for, if not, it would lack the glow of life as well as beauty since life and beauty are naturally indifferent to morality. For this reason, Epimethean collectivity finds no value in it For it is quite blinded by its one-sided moral standpoint, which is identical with the " lamb ", i.e. the traditional Christian standpoint The raging of Epimetheus against the "lamb" is therefore merely * fecrasez Tinfame " in a new form, a revolt against the established Christianity which was unable to com- prehend the new symbol wherewith to guide life upon a new way. Such a reaction, however, might remain entirely unpro- ductive were there no poets who could fathom and read the collective unconscious. They are the first in their time to divine the darkly moving mysterious currents, and to express them according to the limits of their capacity in more or less speaking symbols. They make known, like true prophets, the deep motions of the collective unconscious, "the will of God" in the language of the Old Testament, which, in the course of time, must inevitably come to the surface as a general phenomenon. The redemptive significance of the deed of Prometheus, the downfall of Epimetheus, his reconciliation with his soul-serving brother, and the vengeance Epimetheus wreaks upon the " lamb " recalling in its note of cruelty the scene (Dante, Inferno xxxii.) between Ugolino and the Archbishop Ruggieri prepares a solution of the conflict that involves a deadly revolt against traditional collective morality. We may assume in a poet of modest limits that the summit of his work does not overtop the height of his personal joys, sorrows, and aspirations. But with Spitteler his work quite transcends personal destiny. For this reason his solution of the problem does not stand alone. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 237 From here to Zarathustra, the breaker of the tables, is only a step. Stirner also joined the company after Schopenhauer had first conceived the idea of denial. He spoke of the denial of the world. Psychologically, c the world * means how I see the world, my attitude to the world ; thus the world can be regarded as ' my will ' and ' my presentation.' In itself the world is indifferent It is my Yes and No that create the differences. The idea of negation, therefore, is concerned with an attitude to the world, and particularly Schopenhauer's attitude to it, which on the one hand is purely intellectual and rational, while on the other it is a mystical identity with the world in his most individual feeling. This attitude is introverted; it suffers therefore from its typological anti- thesis. But Schopenhauer's work in many ways transcends his personality. It voices what was obscurely thought and felt by many thousands. Similarly with Nietzsche : pre- eminently his Zarathustra brings to light the contents of the collective unconscious of our time; in him, therefore, we also find the same distinguishing features : iconoclastic revolt against the conventional moral atmosphere, and the acceptance of the " ugliest man ", which in Nietzsche leads to that shattering unconscious tragedy presented in Zarathustra. But what creative minds bring up out of the collective unconscious also actually exists, and sooner or later must make its appearance in collective psychology. Anarchy, regicide, the constant increase and splitting off of an anarchistic element upon the extreme socialist left, with an avowed programme that is absolutely hostile to culture these are phenomena of mass-psychology, which were long adumbrated by poets and creative thinkers. We cannot, therefore, afford to be indifferent to the poets, since in their principal works and deepest inspira- tions they create from the very depths of the collective unconscious, voicing aloud what others only dream. But 838 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY what the poets proclaim is only the symbol in which they sense aesthetic pleasure, without any consciousness of its true meaning. That poets and thinkers have an educational influence upon their own and succeeding epochs I would be the last to dispute; but it seems to me that their influence essentially consists in the fact that they voice rather more clearly and resoundingly what all know, and, only in so far as they express this universal unconscious "knowledge", have they any considerable effect, whether educational or seductive. The greatest and most immediately suggestive effect is gained by the poet who knows how to express the most superficial levels of the unconscious in a success- ful form. Should the vision of the creative mind search more deeply, it becomes all the more strange to mankind in the mass, and provokes an even greater resistance in all those who occupy conspicuous positions in the eyes of the mass. The mass does not understand it although unconsciously living what it expresses; not because the poet proclaims it, but because its life issues from the collective unconscious into which he has peered. The more thoughtful of the nation certainly comprehend something of his message, but, because his utterance corresponds with events already developing among the mass and also because he anticipates their own aspira- tions, they hate the creator of such thoughts, not at all viciously, but merely from the instinct of self-protection. When apprehension of the collective unconscious reaches a depth where conscious expression can no longer grasp its content, it cannot be decided at once whether it is a morbid product we have to deal with, or whether some- thing quite incomprehensible because of its extraordinary depth. An imperfectly understood yet deeply significant content has usually a somewhat morbid character. And morbid products are as a rule significant. But in both THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 339 cases the approach is difficult. If it ever arrives at all> the fame of these creators is posthumous, and often delayed for several centuries. Ostwald's opinion that, at the most, a highly gifted mind of to-day would obtain recognition within a decade or so was not, I hope, intended to reach beyond the realm of technical discoveries ; for, if so, such an assertion would be extremely ludicrous. There is another point of particular importance to which I feel I ought to refer. The solution of the problem in Faust, in the Parsifal of Wagner, in Schopenhauer, even in Nietzsche's Zarathustra, is religious. That Spitteler is also drawn towards a religious setting is therefore not to be wondered at When a problem is accepted as religious, it gains a psychological significance of immense importance ; a value is involved which relates to the whole of man, hence also the unconscious (the realm of the gods, the other world, etc.). With Spitteler the religious form possesses such an exuberant wealth that its specially religious quality loses in depth, although it certainly gains in mythological richness, in archaic as well as prospective symbolism. The luxuriating mytho- logical web makes the work difficult of approach, as it also tends to shroud the problem from comprehension and a possible solution. The abstruse, grotesque, and uncouth quality that always clings to mythological exuberance hinders the flow of sympathy, alienates one's sensibility from the work, and gives the whole work a rather dis- agreeable suggestion of a certain type of originality which can only successfully escape the charge of psychic abnormality by a painstaking and scrupulous adaptation in other directions. However fatiguing and unpalatable such mythological exuberance may be, it has the advantage of allowing the symbol to expand and develop in a relatively unconscious unfolding, whereby the conscious wits of the poet are quite at a loss as to how to assist in the expression 240 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY of the meaning. Thus he labours with single mind in the husbandry of the mythological yield and its plastic develop- ment Spitteler's poem differs, in this respect, both from Faust and from Zarathustra, for in these works there is a greater conscious participation on the part of the poet in the meaning of the symbol ; accordingly the mythological luxuriance in Faust and the intellectual exuberance in Zarathustra are pruned down to the advantage of the desired solution. Both Faust and Zarathustra are, for this reason, far more beautiful than Spitteler's Prometheus. But the latter, as a more or less faithful image of the actual- processes of the collective unconscious, has deeper truth. Faust and Zarathustra are of the very greatest assist- ance in the individual mastery of the problem in question ; but Spitteler's Prometheus and Epimetheus^ thanks to its abundant harvest of mythological material, provides not only a more general appreciation of the problem, but also its manner of appearance in collective life. The principal revelation of the unconscious religious contents in Spitteler's work, is the symbol of the God-renewal^ which is subse- quently more fully expanded in the Olympian Spring. This symbol appears in the most intimate connection with the type and function antithesis, and manifestly bears the significance of an effort to find the solution in a renewal of the general attitude, which in the language of the unconscious is expressed as a renewal of God. The God-renewal is a familiar archetypal image, that is quite universal ; I need only mention the whole complex of the dying and rejuvenating God with all its mythological precursors, down to the re-charging of fetishes and churingas with magical force. The image affirms a transformation of attitude by which a new potential of energy, a new manifestation of life, a new fruitfulncss have come into being. This latter analogy explains the connection for which there is abundant proof THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 241 between the God-renewal and seasonal and vegetational phenomena. There is a natural inclination to confine astral or lunar myths to these seasonal and vegetational analogies. In so doing, however, we entirely lose sight of the fact that a myth, like everything psychic, cannot be solely con- ditioned by outer events. The psychic product brings with it its own inner conditions, so that one might assert with equial right that the myth is purely psychological and merely uses the facts of meteorological or astronomical processes as material for expression. The arbitrariness and absurdity of so many of the primitive mythical assertions make the latter version appear more frequently applicable than any other. The psychological point of departure for the god- renewal corresponds with an increasing divergence in the manner of application of psychic energy or libido.. One half of the libido moves towards a Promethean, while the other towards an Epimethean, manner of application. Such an opposition is, of course, a very great hindrance not only in society but also in the individual Hence the optimum of life recedes more and more from the opposing extremes, and seeks out a middle way, which must necessarily be irrational and unconscious, just because the ''opposites are rational and conscious. Since the middle position, as a function of mediation between the opposites, possesses an irrational character, it appears projected in the form of a reconciling God, a Messiah or Mediator. To our Western forms of religion, which are still too primitive in matters of discernment or understanding, the new possibility of life appears in the figure of a God or Saviour, who, in his fatherly care and love and from his own inner resolve, puts an end to the division, in his own time and season, for reasons we are not fitted to understand. The childishness of this con- 242 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY ception is self-evident. The East has for thousands of years been familiar with this process, and has founded thereon a psychological doctrine of salvation which brings the way of deliverance within the compass of human intention. Thus both the Indian and the Chinese religions, as also Buddhism which combines the spheres of both, possess the idea of a redeeming middle path of magical efficacy which is attainable through a conscious attitude. The Vedic conception is a conscious attempt to find release from the pairs of opposites in order to gain the path of redemption. (a) The Brakmanic Conception of the Problem oj the Opposites The Sanskrit term for the pair of opposites in the psychological sense is Dvandva. Besides the meaning of pair (particularly man and woman), it denotes strife, quarrel, combat, doubt, etc. The pairs of opposites were ordained by the Creator of the world : " Moreover, in order to distinguish actions, he separated merit from demerit, and he caused the creature to be affected by the fairs of opposites, such as pain and pleasure." 1 As further pairs of opposites, the commentator Kulluka names desire and anger, love and hate, hunger and thirst, care and folly, honour and disgrace. " Beneath the pairs of opposites must this world suffer without ceasing." 2 Not to allow oneself to be influenced by the pairs of opposites (pirdvandva free, untouched by the opposites), but to raise oneself above them, is then an essentially ethical task, since freedom from the opposites leads to redemption. In the following passages I give a series of examples : i. From the book of Manu : 8 "He who becometh indifferent towards all objects by the disposition of his feelings attaineth i M&nava-Dharmaf&stra, i, 26 Sacred Books of the East, xxv (p. 13). 3 Rtm&yana, ii, 84, 20. M&nava-Dharmaf&stra, vi, 80 fi., pp. 212-3. THE TYPE-PROBLEM EN POETRY 243 eternal blessedness, as much in this world as after death. Who- soever in this wise hath gradually surrendered all bonds and freed himself from all the opposites, reposeth in Brahman." 1 2. The famous exhortation of Krishna * : " The Vedas speak of the three Gunas : nevertheless, O Arjuna be thou indiff erent concerning the three Gunas, indifferent towards the opposites (nirdvandua), ever steadfast in courage". 3. In the Yogasutra of Patanjali we find 4 : "Then (in deepest contemplation, samadht) cometh that state which is untroubled by the opposites." 5 4. Concerning the wise one : 6 " Both good and evil deeds doth he shake off in that place ; they who are known unto him and are his friends take upon them his good deeds, but they who are not his friends, his evil works : and like one who faring fast in a chariot looketh down upon the chariot wheels, so upon day and night, upon good and evil deeds and upon all opposites, doth he look down ; but he, freed from good and evil deeds, as knower of Brahman, entereth into Sro.hma.Tt." 5. (To the one who is called to meditation). " Whosoever overcometh desire and anger, the cleaving to the world and the lust of the senses ; whoso maketh himself free from the opposites, and relinquisheth the feeling of self (above all self -seeking), that one is released from expectation." 7 6. Pandu, who desires to be a hermit, says : " Clothed with dust, housed under the open sky, I will take my lodging at the root of a tree, surrendering all things loved as well as unloved, tasting neither grief nor pleasure, forfeiting blame and praise alike, neither cherishing hope, nor offering respect, free from the opposites (nirduandva), with neither fortune nor belongings." 8 7. " Whosoever remaineth the same in living as in dying, in fortune as in misfortune, whether gaining or losing, in love and in hatred, will be redeemed. Whoso nothing pursueth and regardeth nothing of small account, whoso is free from the oppo- sites (nirdvandua), whose soul knoweth no passion he is wholly delivered. Whosoever doeth neither right nor wrong, renouncing i Brahman is the 'designation generally applied to the Supreme Soul (param&tman), or impersonal, all-embracing, divine essence, the original source and ultimate goal of all that exists. (Encyclo. Brit.) 8 Qualities or factors or constituents of the world. * Deussen, AUgemeine Gesehichte d. Philosophic, i, 3, pp. 511 ff. 5 Yoga is well-known as a system of training for the attainment *f the higher states of redemption. KausMtakf~Uj>anishad, 1-4, 7 Tqoviitdu-Upanishad, 3. Mah&harata, 1-119, 8 fL Z44 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the treasure of (good and evil) deeds heaped up in former lives, whose soul is tranquil when the bodily elements vanish away, whoso holdeth himself free from the opposites, that one is re- deemed." i 8. " Full thousand years have I enjoyed the things of sense, while still the craving for them springeth up unceasingly. These, therefore, wul I renounce and direct my mind upon Brahma ; indifferent towards the opposites (nirdvandva) and f freed from the feeling of self-will, I will roam with the wild (creatures)." 9. " Through forbearance to all creatures, through the ascetic life, through self-discipline and freedom from desire, through the vow and the blameless life, through equanimity and endurance of the opposites, will TTP^" share the bliss in Brahma, who is without qualities." 10. " Whosoever is free from overweening vanity and delusion and hath overcome the frailty of dependence, whoso remaineth faithful to the highest Atman, whose desires are extinguished, who remaineth untouched by the opposites of pleasure and pain that one released from delusion shall attain that imperishable state." It follows from these quotations 5 that it is external opposites, such as heat and cold, which must first be denied psychic participation in order that extreme affective fluctuations like love and hatred, etc., may also be avoided. Affective fluctuations are the natural and constant accompaniments of every psychic antithesis hence of every antagonism of ideas, whether moral or otherwise. Such affects, as we know by experience, are proportion- ately greater, the more the exciting factor affects the totality of the individual. The meaning of the Indian aim is therefore clear: its purpose is to redeem human nature altogether from the opposites, to attain a new life in Brahman, to win a state of deliverance, and at the same i MahSbh&rata, xiv, 19-4 ff. Bh&gavata-Pur&na, ix, 19, 18 ff. " After he hath put ofi silence and non-silence, thus will he become a Brahmana." Brihadcfranyaka- Upanishad, 3, 5. 8 Bhdgavata~Pur&na, iv, 22, 24. * Garuda-Pur&na, 16, no. * I am indebted to the kind help of Dr Abegg of Zurich, the Sanskrit specialist, for these, to me somewhat inaccessible, citations (Nos. 193, 201-5) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 245 time God. Brahman, therefore, must signify the irrational union of the opposites hence their final overcoming. Although Brahman, as the cause and creator of the world, has created the opposites, they must again be resolved in Him, if He is to signify the state of redemption. In the following passages I give a group of examples : 1. " Brahman is sat and asat, the existing and non-existing, satyam and asatyam, reality and unreality." 1 2. " In truth, there are two forms of Brahman ; the formed and the formless, the mortal and the immortal, the solid and the fluid, the definite and the indefinite." * 3. " God, the creator of all things, the great Self, who dwelleth eternally in the hearts of men, is discernible by the heart, by the soul, by the mind ; who knoweth that, gaineth immortality. When the light hath dawned, then is there neither day nor night, neither being nor not-being." 8 4. " Two things are eternal, in the infinite supreme Brahman contained, knowing and not-knowing. Perishable is not-knowing, eternal knowing, yet He who as lord controlleth them is the Other."* 5. " In the heart of this creature is concealed the Self, smaller than the small, greater than the great, By the grace of the Creator a man freed from desires and released from affliction beholdeth the majesty of the Self. Though sitting still, he wandereth far; he extendeth over all, yet lieth in one place. Who is there, beside myself, able to know this God, who rejoiceth yet rejoiceth not ? " 6. *' One there is without stirring and yet swift as thought Speeding hence, not even o'ertaken by the gods Standing still, it surpasseth all the runners the wind-god Wove among the strands of its being the primordial water. Resting, it is yet ever restless : It is distant and yet so near. It is indwelling in all things. Yet is it outside everything." i Deussen, i, 2, p. 117, I.e. Brihad&ranyaka-Upanishad, 2, 3 (Sacred Books xv) (Definite ." sat ", lit. being or this, and indefinite" tya ". lit. that or here- after). Svrtasvatara-Upanishad, 4, 17 ft. * Svtt&svaiara-Upanishad, 5, i. 5 Deussen here translates : " He sitteth, yet wandereth further. He lieth, yet everywhere hovereth. Concerning the swaying hither and thither of God, who understandeth it save myself ? " Kaika- Upanishad, i, 2, 20 ff. Ifo-Upanishad, 4-5 (Deussen) 246 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 7. " Like as a falcon or an eagle tiring after wide circuits in the windy spaces of heaven foldeth his wings and droppeth to quiet cover, so urgeth the spirit toward that state whose repose no desire troubleth nor delusion entereth. " That is its true being, from yearnings, from evil, and from fear delivered. Like unto a man in the embrace of a beloved wife, unaware of things without or things within, is the spirit that is embraced by the all-discerning self." (Brahman) .1 " This one second is an ocean, free from duality : this, O King I is the world of Brahman. Thus Yajnavalkya taught him. This is his highest goal, this his dearest success, this his greatest world and this his supreme rapture." * 8. " What is agile, flying and yet standing still. What breatheth yet draweth no breath, what closeth the eyes, What beareth the whole manifold Earth, And bringeth all together in unity." 8 These quotations show, that Brahman is the recon- ciliation and dissolution of the opposites hence standing beyond them as an irrational factor. 4 It is a divine essence as well as the Self (in a lesser degree, of course, than the analogous Atman-concept) ; it is also a definite psychological state, characterized by detachment from emotional fluctuations. Since suffering is an affect, the release from affects means deliverance. Release from the fluctuations of affects, which means from the tension of opposites, is synonymous with the way of redemption that gradually leads to the state of Brahman. In a certain sense, therefore, Brahman is not only a state, but also a process, a "dure crdatrice ". It is, therefore, not surprising that the symbolical expression of this Brahman concept in the Upanishads makes use of all those symbols which I have termed libido symbols 6 . The following are a few appropriate examples : 1 This describes the resolution of the subject-object antithesis. * Brihad&ranyaka-Upantshad, 4, 3. * Atharuaveda, 10, 8, n. (Deussen) 4 Hence Brahman is quite beyond knowledge and comprehension. * Jong, Psychology of ihe Unconscious. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 247 (S) Concerning the Brabmanic Conception of the Reconciling Symbol 1. " When it is said : Brahman first in the East was born, it meaneth, each new day like yonder son Brahman is reborn in the East." i 2. " Yonder man in the sun is Parameshtin, Brahman, Atman." 3. " Yonder man, whom they point out in the sun, that is Indra, Prajapati, Brahman." 8 4. " Brahman is a light like unto the sun." * 5. " What is this Brahman but that which gloweth yonder as the sun's disc." 6. " Brahman first in the East was born : From the horizon the Gracious One appeareth in splendour; The forms of this world, the deepest, the highest, He lighteth ; the cradle He is, of what is and is not. Father of the shining ones, Creator of the treasure, Many-formed he appeareth in the spaces of the air : They glorify Him in hymns of praise ; The Eternal Youth Which Brahman is increaseth ever through Brahman's (decree) Brahman brought forth the deities, Brahman created the world." I have emphasized certain specially characteristic passages with italics; from these it would appear that Brahman is not only the producing one but also that which is produced, the ever-becoming. The epithet "Gracious One" (Vend), here bestowed upon the sun, is in other places given to the seer who is endowed with the divine light, for, like the Brahman-sun, the mind of the seer also traverses "earth and heaven contemplating Brahman". 7 This intimate relation, identity even, of the divine being with the Self (Atman) of mankind, is $atap. BrUhfn., 14, i, 3, 3. (Deussen). Taitt. Ar., 10, 63, 15. (Denssen). fankh. Br. t 8, 3. (Deussen). Vaj. Samh,, 23, 48. (Deussen). fatap. Br., 8, 5, 3, 7. (Denssen). Taitt. Br., *, 8, 8, 8. ff. (Deussen), Atharvaveda, 2, i, 4, i, 11,5. 248 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY generally recognised. I mention the following example from the Atharvaveda : " The disciple of Brahman advanceth, reanimating both worlds. In him all tiie gods are unanimous. He containeth and upholdeth the earth and the heavens, He even feedeth the master with his tapas.i To the Brahman disciple there come, to visit him, Fathers and Gods, singly and hi multitudes : And he nourisheth all the Gods hy tapas." The Brahman disciple is himself an incarnation of Brahman, from which the identity of the Brahman-essence with a definite psychological state is clearly established. 7. " Prompted by the Gods, the sun burneth there in splendour unsurpassed ; From him proceedeth Brahman-force, supreme Brahman. Yea, even all the Gods ; and what he maketh dieth not. The Brahman disciple upholdeth Brahman resplendent, Interwoven in him are the hosts of the Gods." * Brahman is also Prana breath of life and the cosmic life-principle; Brahman is also Vayu Wind, which is referred to in the Brihaddranyaka- Upanishad (3, 7) as the cosmic and psychic life-principle. 8 8. " He who is this (Brahman) in man, and the One who is that (Brahman) in the sun, are both one." 4 9. (Prayer of one dying) : " The countenance of truth (of Brahman) is covered by a golden disc. Open this, O Pushan (Savitir, sun), that we may behold the nature of truth. Unfold and assemble thy holy rays, O Pushan, thou only seer, Yama, Surya (sun), son of PrajapatL I behold the light, thy loveliest semblance. What he is, I am (i.e. the man in the sun).* 10. " And this light, which spreadeth above this heaven higher than all, higher even than those in the highest world, above and beyond which there are no more worlds, this is the same light that burneth hi the inner world of man. Whereof we have this visible token; only to feel warmth and perceive bodies." 6 i The practice of self-brooding. Cf. Jung, Psychology of the Un- conscious. a Atharvaveda, n, 5, 23 ff. (Deussen). Deussen, Allg. Gesch. d. Phil., r, 2, pp. 93 ff. 4 Taitt.-Up., 2, 8, 5. (Max MttUer). Brihadtr.- Up., 5, 15, i ff, (Max MttUer). Khandogya- Up., 3, 13, 7 fi. (Ma* MUller). THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 249 ii. " As a grain of rice, or barley, or millet, yea like even unto the kernel of a millet-seed is this spirit in the inner Self, golden, like a name without smoke ; and greater is it than the heavens, vaster than space, greater than this earth, surpassing all beings. It is the soul of life, it is my own soul : departing hence, into this soul shall I enter/' 1 13. In the Atharvaveda, 10, 2, Brahman is conceived as the vitalistic principle, the life-force, which fashions all the organs and their respective instincts. " Who planted the seed within him, that he might ever spin the thread of generation, who assembled within him the powers of mind, gave him voice and play of features ? " Even the power of man originates in Brahman. From these examples, whose number could be multiplied in- definitely, it clearly follows that, by virtue of all its attributes and symbols, the Brahman concept is in full harmony with that idea of a dynamic or creative element, which I have named ' libido '. The word Brahman means : i, prayer; 2, incantation; 3, sacred speech; 4, sacred knowledge (Veda)\ 5, holy life; 6, the absolute; 7, the sacred caste (the Brahmans). Deussen stresses the prayer- significance as being especially characteristic 2 . Brahman is derived from barh> farcire, 'swelling' 8 , i.e. 'prayer' conceived of as " the upward-urging will of man striving towards the holy, the divine ". A certain psychological state is indicated in this derivation, namely a specific concentration of libido which through overflowing innervations produces a general state of tension, and hence is associated with the feeling of swelling. Thus in colloquial references to such a state, images of overflowing, e.g. 'one cannot restrain oneself, 'bursting', etc. are frequently used. ("What filleth the heart, goeth out by the mouth"). * fatap. Br&hm., xo, 6, 3. (Deussen) * AUg. Gesdh. d. Phil., i, i, pp. 240 ff. * This is confirmed by the reference to Brahman-prana. Matrifvan (" he who sweUeth within the mother ") Aihwvweda, u, 4, 15. I* 50 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY Indian practice seeks to accomplish this state of damming or heaptng-up of libido by systematically with- drawing the attention (libido) alike from objects, and from psychic states, in a word from the 'opposites'. This elimination of sense-perception and blotting-out of con- scious contents leads inevitably to a lowering of consciousness in general (just as in hypnosis), whereby the unconscious contents, il*. the primordial images, which possess a cosmic and superhuman character on account of their universality and immense antiquity, become activated. Those age-old allegories of sun, fire, flame, wind, breath, etc., which from earliest time have symbolized the begetting, world-moving, creative power, have all come about in this way. Since I have made a special study of these libido-images in another work 1 , I will not further expand this theme here. The idea of a creative world principle is a projected perception of the living essence in man himself. In order to preclude all vitalistic misunderstandings, one is well advised to make an abstract conception of this essence as energy. But, on the other hand, that hypostas- izing of the energy-concept in the fashion of modern energetics must, of course, be firmly rejected. Since an energic current necessarily presupposes the existence of an opposition, i.e. of two states of differing potential, without which no current can take place, the concept of opposition is also associated with the energy- concept. Every energic phenomenon (and there are no phenomena that are not energic) manifests both beginning and end, upper and lower, hot and cold, earlier and later, cause and effect, etc., i.e. pairs of opposites. This inseparability of the energy-concept fr^m the concept of opposition also involves the libido-concept Hence libido- 1 Jong, Psychology of the Unconscious. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 251 symbols of a mythological or philosophic-speculative character, are either represented by a direct antithesis or become immediately broken up into opposites. In a former work I have already referred to this inner splitting of the libido, thereby provoking a certain opposition, though not justifiably, so it seems to me, since the immediate association of a libido-symbol with the concept of opposition is sufficient justification. We also find this association in the Brahman concept or symbol. The character of Brahman as prayer, and at the same time as primordial creative force, the latter being resolved into the opposition of sexes, is very remarkably presented in a hymn of Rigveda : l " And ever unfolding, **" prayer of the singer Became a cow, which was before the world existed ; Dwelling together in this womb of God, Fledgelings of the same brood are the Gods* What hath been the wood, and what was the tree, Out of which Earth and Heaven were hewn, The twain, changeless and eternally helpful, When days vanished and the dawn's first flush came not. Greater than He nothing existeth ; He is the bull, upholding earth and heaven The cloud sieve he girdleth like a fleece ; When He, the Lord, driveth like Surya His cream horses. As an arrow of the sun He irradiateth the wide earth, As the wind scattereth the mist, He stonneth through creatures, When he cometh as Mitra, as Varuna chasing around. * As Agni in the forest, he distributeth glowing light. When driven to him, the cow brought forth, Moved, freely-pasturing, the unmoved thing she created. She bore the son, the one who was older than the parents " That the idea of opposition is closely bound up with the world creator is presented in another form in Qatapatha- Brakmanam, 2, 2, 4 : " In the beginning was Prajapati alone ; he meditated : How can I propagate myself ? So he travailed and practised * Rigveda, xo, 31, 6. (Deussen). t Cosmic creative principle libido. Tain. Samh., 5, 5, 2, i : " When he 'had created them, he instilled love into all his creatures." 252 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY tapas : * then he begat Agni (fire) out of his mouth ; because he begat him out of his mouth,* therefore is Agni food-devourer, Prajapati reflected : As food-devourer have I created this Agni out of myself ; but there existeth here nothing else beside myself that he may devour, for at that time the earth was quite barren ; neither herbs nor trees were there : and this thought was heavy upon him. Then turned upon him Agni with gaping maw. Thus spake unto him his own greatness : Sacrifice I Then knew Prajapati : This, my own greatness hath spoken unto me ; and he sacrificed. Thereupon he ascended, he burnetihi yonder (the sun) ; thereupon he rose up, he that purifieth here (the wind). Because Prajapati sacrificed in this wise, he propagated himself, and, because death in the form of Agni would have devoured him, he also saved himself from death." The sacrifice is always the renunciation of the valuable part ; the sacrificer thus avoids being eaten up ; this does not mean a transformation into the opposite, but a unification and adjustment, from which there arises a new libido-direction or attitude to life; sun and wind are generated. It is stated in another place in the Qatapatha- Brahmanam, that one half of Prajapati is mortal, the other immortal 8 . Similar to the way Prajapati divides himself into bull and cow is his division into the two principles Manas (mind) and Vac (speech). "This world was Prajapati alone, Vac was his Self, and Vac his second Self (his alter ego) ; thus he meditated : This Vac will I send forth, and she shall go hence and pervade all things. Then 'he sent forth Vac, and she went and filled this universe." 4 This passage is of especial interest, inasmuch as speech is here conceived as a creative, extraverted libido-movement, as a diastole in Goethe's sense. There is a further parallel in the following passage : " In truth Prajapati was this world, with him was Vac his second Self: with her did he i Solitary meditation, asceticism, introversion. a The begetting of fire from the mouth has a noteworthy relation to speech. Cf . Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious. Cf . Dioscuri motive in Psychology of the Unconscious (Jung). Deussen, AUg. Gesch. d. Phil., i, i. p. 206 ; Pancav. Br., 20, 14, ia. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 253 beget life : she conceived : whereupon she went forth out of him, and made these creatures, and once again entered into Prajapati." 1 In the $atapatha-Br., 8, I, 2, 9, the share attributed to Vac is a prodigious one : " Truly Vac is the wise Vifyakarman, for through Vac was this whole world made." However, in Qatap. Br., I, 4, 5, 8, the question of precedence between Manas and Vac is decided differently : " Upon a time it came to pass that Mind and Speech strove for priority one with the other. Mind said : ' I am better than them,, for thou speakest nothing that I have not first discerned.' Then said Speech : ' I am better than thou, since I announce what thou hast discerned and make it known.' To Prajapati they went, for the question to be judged. Prajapati decreed for Mind saying : ' Truly is Mind better than thou ; for thou dost copy what Mind doeth and runnest in his tracks : moreover, it is the inferior who is wont to imitate his betters.' " * These passages show that the World-creator can also divide himself into Manas and Vac, who are themselves mutually opposed. As Deussen points out, both principles are first contained within Prajapati, the world-creator. This appears in the following text : " Prajapati yearned : 1 1 wish to be many, I will multiply myself.' Then silently he meditated in his manas ; what was in his manas fashioned Crihat*; then he pondered 'This lieth in me as the fruit of my body, through vac will I bring it to birth.' Thereupon made he vac" etc. 4 This passage shows the two principles in their character of psychological functions ; namely, manas as introversion of the libido with the creation of an inner product ; vac as the divesting function or extraversion. With this explanation we can now understand a further text 6 relating to Brahman : i Weber, Indische Studien, 9, 477- Quoted from Deussen, Allg. Gesch. d. Phil., i, r, p. 206. The name of a saman Song. Deussen, /^., i, T, 205. Pancau. Br., 7, 6. fatap. Br , u, 2, 3. (Deussen). 254 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY " Brahman made two worlds. When he had come into this other world, he pondered : ' How can I reach again into the world ? ' Twofold did he extend himself into this world, through Form and through Name. These twain are the two great monsters of Brahman ; whosoever knoweth these two great monsters of Brah- man becometh like unto them ;* these twain are the two mighty aspects of Brahman." A little later * form " is explained as manas (" manas is form, for man knoweth through manas what this form is "), an d " name " is shown to be vac (" for through vac man seizeth the name"). Thus the two "monsters" of Brahman emerge as manas and vac, hence as two psychic functions, with which Brahman can ' extend himself into two worlds, clearly signifying the function of 'relation.' The form of things is 'conceived* or 'taken in* by intro- verting through manas; names are given to things by extraverting through vac. Both are bound up with the relations and adaptations or assimilations of things. The two monsters are also evidently regarded as personi- fications; an indication of this lies in their other title " aspects "=yaksha, since yaksha is an equivalent of daemon, or superhuman being. Psychologically, personi- fication always signifies a relative independence (autonomy) of the personified contents, it. a relative splitting-off from the psychic hierarchy. A content of this kind is not obedient to voluntary reproduction, but either reproduces itself spontaneously or in some similar way becomes insulated from consciousness. 1 For instance, when an incompatibility exists between the ego and a certain complex, such a cleavage is produced. As is well known, one frequently observes this dissociation between the ego and the sexual complex. But other complexes may also become split-off, the power-complex, for instance, corre- sponding with the sum of all those aspirations and ideas- which aim at the acquisition of personal power. * Cf. Jung, Dementia Praco* (1907) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 255 There is, however, another sort of cleavage, namely the splitting-off of the conscious ego, together with a selected function from the remaining components of the personality This cleavage may be defined as an identification of the ego with a certain function or group of functions. A dissociation of this kind is very often seen in men who are too deeply immersed in one of their psychic functions, thereby differentiating it as their only conscious function of adaptation. A good literary example of such a man is provided by Faust at the beginning of the tragedy. The remain- ing elements of the personality approach in the form of the poodle, and later as Mephistopheles. According to my view, we should not be justified in interpreting Mephistopheles as a split -off complex, as repressed sexuality for instance, in spite of the fact, which is undoubtedly borne out by many associations, that Mephistopheles also represents the sexual complex. This explanation is too limited, for Mephistopheles is more than mere sexuality he is also power ; with the exception of thinking and research he is practically the whole life of Faust The result of the pact with the devil shows this most distinctly. What undreamed-of possi- bilities do not unfold themselves to the rejuvenated Faust ! The correct view, therefore, would seem to be that Faust identifies himself with the one function and therewith becomes split off from the personality as a whole. Sub- sequently, the thinker in the form of Wagner also becomes split off from Faust. Conscious capacity for one-sidedness is a sign of the highest culture. But involuntary one-sidcdness, i.e. ina- bility to be anything but one-sided, is a sign of barbarism. Hence we find among half-savage peoples the most one- sided differentiations, as, for instance, certain aspects of Christian asceticism which are an affront to good taste, 256 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY and parallel phenomena among the Yogis and Tibetan Buddhists. For the barbarian, this tendency to fall a victim to one-sidedness in one way or another, thereby losing sight of his whole personality, is a great and constant danger. The Gilgamesh epic, for example, begins with this conflict. In the barbarian the one-sided libido movement breaks out with daemoniacal compulsion; it possesses the character of Berserker rage and "running amok". The barbaric one-sidedness presupposes a certain stunting of instinct ; this is lacking in the primitive, because in general he is still free from the one-sidedness of the semi-civilized barbarian. Identification with one definite function at once pro- duces a tension between the opposites. The more com- pulsive the one-sidedness, it. the more untamed the libido which urges to one side, the more daemoniacal is its quality. When a man is carried away by his uncon- trolled, undomesticated libido, he speaks of dsemoniac possession or of magical effect In this way manas and vac are indeed potent daemons, since they can work mightily upon men. All things that exercise powerful effects were regarded either as gods or daemons. Thus, in the Gnosis, manas became personified as the serpent- like nous, vac as Logos. Vac bears the same relation to Prajapati as Logos to God. The sort of daemons that introversion and extraversion may become is for us an everyday experience. With what irresistible persuasion and force the libido streams within or without, with what unshakable tenacity an introverted or extraverted attitude can take root, we see in our patients and can feel in our- selves. The description of manas and vac as monsters of Brahman is in complete harmony with the psycho- logical fact that at the instant of its appearance the libido divides into two streams, which as a rule alternate THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 257 periodically but at times may also appear simultaneously in the form of a conflict, riamely an outward stream opposing an inward stream. The daemonic quality of the two movements lies in their ungovernable nature and superior power. These qualities are, of course, in evidence only when the instinct of the primitive is already so curtailed that a natural and appropriate counter-move- ment against his one-sidedness is prevented; and where that culture which might assist him so far to tame his libido as to be able voluntarily and deliberately to par- ticipate in its introverting and extraverting tides is not yet sufficiently advanced. (c) The Reconciling Symbol as the Principle of Dynamic Regulation In the foregoing passages from Indian sources we have followed the development of the redeeming principle from the pairs of opposites, and have traced the origin of the pairs of opposites to the same creative principle, thereby gaining an insight into a law-determined psychological occurrence which is found to be easily reconcilable with the concepts of our modern psychology. This impression of a law-determined event is also conveyed to us from Indian sources, since they identify Brahman with Rita. What then is Rita? Rita signifies : established order, regulation, direction, determination, sacred custom, statute, divine law, right, truth. According to etymological evidence its root-meaning is : ordinance, (right) way, direction, course (to be followed). That which is ordained by Rita fills the whole world, but the particular manifestations of Rita are in those Nature-processes which always remain constant, and inevitably arouse the idea of regulated recurrence : " By Rita's ordinance the heaven- born dawn was lighted." "In obedience to Rita" the Ancient Ones who order the world " made the sun to mount 258 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the heavens ", who himself " is the burning countenance of Rita". Around the he'avens circles the year, that twelve-spoked wheel of Rita which never ages. Agni is called the offspring of Rita. In the doings of man, Rita operates as the moral law, which enjoins truth and the straight way. " Whosoever followeth Rita>findeth a thorn- less path and fair to walk in? In so far as they represent a magical repetition or re- production of cosmic events, Rita also appears in religious rites. As the streams flow in obedience to Rita and the crimson dawn is set ablaze, so "under the harness 1 of Rita" is the sacrifice kindled; upon the path of Rita, Agni brings the sacrifice to the gods. " Pure of magic, I invoke the gods ; with Rita I do my work, and shape my thought ", are the words of the sacrificer. Although the Rita concept does not appear personified in the Veda, yet, according to Bergaigne a certain tinge of concrete being undoubtedly clings to it. Since Rita expresses an ordering of events, we find "paths of Rita", "charioteers" 1 and " ships of Rita " ; on occasion the gods appear as parallels. The same attribute, for instance, is given to Rita as to Varuna. Mitra also, the ancient sun-god, is brought into relation with Rita (as above). Concerning Agni we read : " Thou shalt become Varuna, if thou strivest after Rita" 8 . The gods are the guardians of Rita 4 . I have selected a group of essential references : i. " Rita is Mitra, for Mitra is Brahman and Rita is Brah- man." * * Suggesting the horse, which indicates the dynamic nature of the Rita concept. * Agni is called the charioteer of Rita. Vedic Hymns (Sacred Books, xlvi) p. 158 ; 7, p. 160 ; 3, p. 229 ; 8. * Cf. Oldenburg, Nachr. d. GStt. Ges. d. Wiss.', 1915, p. 167 ff. Religion des Veda, p. 194. For this reference I am indebted to the kindness of Dr Abegg of Zurich. * Deussen, Allg. Gesch. d. Phil., i, i, p. 92 * fatapatha-Br&hmdnam, 4, i, 4, 10. (Eggeling). THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 259 2. " Giving the cow to the Brahmans man gaineth all the worlds, for in her is Brahman contained in Rita, and Tapas also." i 3. " Prajapati is called the first-born of Rita." * 4. " The gods followed the laws of Rita." * 5. " He who saw the hidden one (Agni), and drew nigh to the streams of Rita." * 6. " O wise one of Rita, know Rita 1 Bore and release Rita's many streams." 5 The boring refers to the worship of Agni, to whom this hymn is dedicated. (Agni is here called the "red bull of Rita "). In the worship of Agni, fire obtained by boring is used as a magic symbol of the regeneration of life. Here clearly -the " boring" of the streams of Rita bears the same significance, namely the streams of life rise again to the surface, libido is freed from its bonds 6 . The effect produced by the ritual fire-boring, or through the recital of hymns, is naturally regarded by the believers as the magical effect of the object ; in reality, however, it is an enchantment ' of the subject, namely an intensi- fication of vital feeling, a release and propagation of life- force, a restoration of psychic potential. 7. Thus we find : " Though he (Agni) creepeth away, yet unto Mm straightway goeth the prayer. They (the prayers) have led forth the flowing streams of Rita." 7 The revival of living feeling, of this sense of streaming energy, is very generally likened to a spring gushing from its source, to the melting of the iron-bound ice of winter i Atharvaveda, 10, 10 ,33. (Deussen). * Atharvaveda, 10, 12, x, 61. (Bloomfield). Vedic Hymns (Sacred Books, advi), p. 54. * Vedic Hymns, p. 61. 5 Vedic Hymns, p. 393. Release of libido is obtained through ritual work. The release brings the libido to the disposal of consciousness. It becomes domesti- cated. From an instinctive, undomesticated state it is converted into a state of disposability. This is depicted in a verse which runs : " When the rulers, the bountiful lords, brought Him forth (Agni) by their power from the depths, they released Him from the form of the butt." Vedic Hymns, p. 147. * Vedic Hymns, p. 174. 260 THE TYPE-PROBLEM JtN POETRY in springtime, or to the breaking of long drought by rain 1 . 8. The following passage is in harmony with this theme : " With full uddeis the lowing milch cows of Rita were over- flowing. The streams which implored the favour (of the gods) from afar, have broken through the mountain rocks with then- floods." * This imagery clearly suggests a tension of energy, a damming up of libido, and its release. Rita here appears as the possessor of blessing, of "lowing milch cows" and as the ultimate source of the released energy. 9. Corresponding with the image of rain as a symbol of the release of libido, we find the following passage : " The mists fly, the clouds thunder. When he who is swollen with the milk of Rita, is led upon the straightest path of Rita ; then Aryaman, Mitra and Varuna, (He who transformeth the earth) fill the leathern sack (the clouds) in the womb of the lower (atmosphere) ."* It is Agni who, swollen with the milk of Rita, is likened here to the force of lightning, that bursts forth from massed clouds heavy with rain. Here Rita appears again as the actual source of energy, whence Agni also is born ; this is explicitly mentioned in the Vedic Jfymns, p. 161, 7. Rita is also path, & regulated process. 10. " With acclamations have they greeted the stream of Rita, which lay hidden by the birth-place of God, nigh unto His throne. There did He drink, when, stfll divided, He dwelt in the womb of the waters." * This passage confirms what was just said about Rita as the source of libido, in which God dwells and whence He is brought forth in the sacred ceremonies. Agni is the positive appearance of hitherto latent libido ; He is the accomplisher or fulfiller of Rita, its "charioteer" (see above); He harnesses the two long-maned red mares of Rita. 5 He even holds Rita like a horse, by the bridle. i Cf. the Tishtrya Lied. Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious. * Vedic Hymns, p. 88. Vedic Hymns, p. 103. Vedic Hymns, p. 160, 2. fi Vedic Hymns, p. 244, 6, and p. 316, 3* THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 261 ( Vedic Hymns, p. 382). He brings the gods to mankind, i.e. He brings their force and their blessing; they represent definite psychological states, in which the feeling and energy of life flow with greater freedom and joy, where the pent ice is broken. Nietzsche catches this state in that wonderful verse : " Thou who with spear of flame Dissolveth the ice of my soul I Storming now she hasteneth Toward the sea of her highest hopes." 11. The following invocations are in harmony with this theme : " Let the divine gates, the multipliers of Rita, be flung wide. Open the much desired gates, that the gods may come forth. Let night and morning the young mothers of Rita, be seated together upon the ritual grass, etc." 1 The analogy with the rising sun is unmistakable. Rita appears as the sun, since out of night and twilight is the new sun born. 12. " Open ye for our succour, O divine doors easy of access. Ever more and more fill the sacrifice with blessedness : (with prayers) we draw nigh unto night and morning the multipliers of living power, the two young mothers of Rita." There is no need, I think, for further examples to show that the concept of Rita, like sun and wind etc., is a libido- symbol. Only the Rita concept is less concretistic, and contains the abstract element of established direction and lawfulness, i.e. the determined and ordered path or process. Already, therefore, it is a philosophical libido-symbol which can be directly compared with the Stoic concept elfjuipfjimi. With the Stoics et/xap/to^ had, of course, the significance of a creative primordial heat, and at the same time a determined, regulated process (hence also its mean- ing " compulsion by the stars "). It is self-evident that libido as a psychological energy concept corresponds with 1 Vedic Hymns, p. 153 and p. 8. 26* THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY these attributes ; since a process always proceeds from a higher potential to a lower, the energy-concept includes the idea of a determined, directed process eo ipso. It is the same with the libido-concept, which merely signifies the energy of the process of life. Its laws are the laws of vital energy. Libido as an energy concept is a quantita- tive formula for the phenomena of life, which are naturally of varying intensity. Like physical energy, libido passes through every con- ceivable transformation ; we find ample evidence of this in the phantasies of the unconscious and in the myths. These phantasies are primarily self-representations of the energic transformation processes, which follow their natural and established laws, their determined "way" of evolution. This way signifies both the line or curve of the optimum of energic discharge as well as the corre- sponding result in work. Hence this "way" is simply the expression of flowing and self-manifesting energy. The way is Rita, the " right way ", the flow of vital energy or libido, the determined course upon which the ever- renewing process is possible. This way is also destiny, in so far a$ destiny is dependent upon our psychology. It is the way of our vocation and our law. It would be quite wrong to assert that such an aim is merely naturalism^ by which one means a complete surrender to one's instincts. An assumption is herewith involved that the instincts have a constant "downward" tendency, and that naturalism is a non-ethical rechute upon an inclined plane. I have nothing against such an interpretation of naturalism, but I am bound to observe that the man who is left to his own devices, and has therefore every opportunity for backsliding, as for instance the primitive, not only has a morality and a legislation but one which in the severity of its demands is often considerably more exacting than our civilized morality THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 263 Whether, for the primitive good and evil have a value which differs from ours, has nothing to do with the case ; his naturalism leads to legislation that is the chief point Morality is no misconception, conceived by an ambitious Moses upon Sinai, but something inherent in the laws of life and fashioned like a house or a ship or any other cultural instrument in the normal process of life. The natural flow of libido, this very middle path, involves a complete obedience to the fundamental laws of human nature, and there can positively be no higher moral principle than that harmony with natural laws whose accord gives the libido the direction in which life's optimum lies. The optimum of life is not to be found upon the line of crude egoism, since man, whose fundamental make-up discerns an absolutely indispensable meaning in the happiness he brings to his neighbour, can never win his life's optimum upon the line of egoism. An unbridled craving for indi- vidual pre-eminence is equally unfitted to achieve this optimum, since the collective element is so strongly rooted in man that his yearning for fellowship destroys all pleasure in naked egoism. The optimum of life can be gained only by obedience to the tidal laws of the libido, by which systole alternates with diastole, laws which pro- vide happiness and the necessary limitations, even setting the life-tasks of the individual nature, without whose accomplishment life's optimum can never be achieved. If the attainment of this way consisted in a mere surrender to instinct, which is what is really meant by the bewailer of "naturalism", the profoundest philosophical speculation and the whole history of the human mind would have no sort of raison d'fitre. Yet, as we study the Upanishad philosophy, the impression grows on us that the attainment of the path is not just the simplest of tasks. Our western air of superiority in the presence of Indian understanding is a part of our essential barbarism, for which any true 264 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY perception of the quite extraordinary depth of those ideas and their amazing psychological accuracy is still but a remote possibility. In fact, we are still so uneducated that we actually need laws from without, and a task-master or Father above, to show us what is good and the right thing to do. It is because we are still so barbarous that faith in the laws of human nature and the human path appears as a dangerous and non-ethical naturalism. Why is this ? Because under the barbarian's thin skin of culture the wild-beast lurks in readiness, amply justifying his fear. But the beast that is caged is not thereby conquered. There is no morality without freedom. When a barbarian loosens the animal within him, he is not free, but bound. Barbarism must first be vanquished, before freedom can be won. Theoretically this takes place when an individual perceives and feels the basic root and motive power of his own morality as an inherent element of. his own nature, and not as external prohibitions. But how else is man to attain this realization and insight but through the conflict of the opposites ? (d) The Reconciling Symbol in Chinese Philosophy The idea of a middle path that lies between the opposites is also to be foupd in China, in the form of Too, The idea of Tao is usually associated with the name of the philosopher Lao-Tsze, born B.C. 604. But this concept is older than the philosophy of Lao-Tsze, since it is bound up with certain ideas belonging to the ancient national religion of the Tao, the celestial " way ". This concept corresponds with the Vedic Rita. The meanings of Tao are as follows: (i) way, (2) method, (3) principle, (4) Nature-force or life-force, (5) the regulated processes of Nature, (6) the idea of the world, (7) the primal cause of all phenomena, (8) the right, (9) the good, (10) the eternal moral law. Some translators even translate Tao as God, THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 265 not without a certain right, since Tao, like Rita, has a certain admixture of concrete substantiality. I will first give a few illustrations from the Tao-te-ktng, the classical book of Lao-tsze : 1. " I do not know whose son it (Tao) is ; it seems to have existed before God." (ch. iv) 2. " A being there is, indefinable, perfected, that existed before heaven and earth. How still it was how formless, alone, unchanging, embracing all and inexhaustible ! It would seem to be the mother of all things. I know not its name, but I call it Tao." (ch. xxv) 3. In order to characterize its essential quality, Lao-tsze likens it to water : " The blessing of water is shown in this, it doeth good to all and seeketh at once the lowliest place, which all men shun. It hath in it something of Tao." The idea of the energic process could not surely be better expressed. 4. " Dwelling without desire, one perceiveth its essence ; clinging to desire, one seeth only its outer form." (ch. i) The kinship with the basic Brahmanic ideas is unmistak- able which does not necessarily imply direct contact Lao-tsze is an entirely original thinker, and the primordial image underlying both the Rita-Brahman- Atman and Tao conceptions is as universal as man, appearing in every age and among all peoples, whether as a primitive energy concept, as "soul force" or however else it may be designated. 5. " He who knoweth the eternal is comprehensive ; com- prehensive, therefore just ; just, therefore a king ; a king, there- fore celestial ; celestial, therefore in Tao ; in Tao, therefore enduring; without hurt he suffereth the loss of the bogy." (ch. xvi) The knowledge of Tao has therefore the same redeem- ing and uplifting effect as- the "knowing" of Brahman. Man becomes one with Tao, with the unending "dur^e cr6atrice " ; thus to range this latest philosophical concept appropriately by the side of its older kindred, since Tao is also the stream of time. 6. " Tao is an irrational, hence a wholly inconceivable fact : Tao is essence, but unseizable, incomprehensible." (ch. xxi) 266 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 7. Tao also is non-existing : " From it the existing, all things under Heaven have their source, but the being of this existing one arose in its turn from it as the non-existing." (ch. xl). " Tao is hidden, nameless." (ch. xli) Clearly Tao is an irrational union of the opposites, there- fore a symbol which is and is not 8. " The spirit of the valley is immortal, it is called the deep feminine. The gate-way of the deep feminine is called root of heaven and earth." Tao is the creative essence, as father begetting and as mother bringing forth. It is the beginning and end of all creatures. 9. " He whose actions are in harmony with Tao becometh one with Tao," Therefore the complete one is freed from the opposites whose intimate connection and alternating appearance he is aware of. Thus in Chapter ix he says : " to withdraw oneself is the celestial way " . 10. " Therefore is he (the complete one) inaccessible to intimacy, inaccessible to estrangement, inaccessible to profit, inaccessible to injury, inaccessible to honour, inaccessible to disgrace." (ch. Ivi) 11. " Being one with Tao resembles the spiritual condition of a child." (ch. x, xxviii, Iv) This is, admittedly, the psychological attitude which is an essential condition of the inheritance of the Christian Kingdom of Heaven, and this in spite of all rational interpretations is the central, irrational essence, the basic image and symbol whence proceeds the redeeming effect The Christian symbol merely has a more social (civil) character than the allied Eastern conceptions. These latter are more directly rooted in eternally existing dynamistic conceptions, such as the image of magical power, issuing from things and men, and on a higher level from gods, or a principle. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 267 12. According to the ideas of the Taoistic religion, Too is divided into a principle pair of opposite, Yang and Yin. Yang is warmth, light, masculinity. Yin is cold, darkness, femininity. Yang is also heaven, Yin earth. From the Yang force arises Schen, the celestial portion of the human soul ; and from the Yin force arises Kwei, the earthly part. As a microcosm, man is also in some degree a reconciler of the pairs of opposites. Heaven, man, and earth, form the three chief elements of the world, the San^tsai. This image is an altogether primordial idea, which we find elsewhere in similar forms; as for instance in the West African myth where Obatala and Odudua, the first parents (heaven and earth) lie -together in a calabash, until a son, man, arises between them. Hence as a microcosm, uniting in himself the world-opposites, man corresponds with the irrational symbol which reconciles psychological antitheses. This root-image of man clearly accords with Schiller, when he calls the symbol " living form". The division of the human soul into a Schen or Hwun soul, and a Kwei or Fob soul, is a great psychological truth. This Chinese presentation also suggests the familiar passage in Faust : " Two souls, alas ! within my bosom dwell One would from the other sever : The one in full delight of love Clings with clutching organs to the world : The other, mightily, from earthly dust Would mount on high to the ancestral fields." The existence of two mutually contending tendencies, both striving to drag man into extreme attitudes and entangle him in the world whether upon the spiritual or material side thereby setting him at variance with himself, demands the existence of a, counter-weight, which is just this irrational fact, Tao. Hence the believer's anxious effort to live in harmony with Tao, lest he fall* into the conflict of the opposites. Since Tao is an irrational fact, it cannot 268 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY be deliberately achieved ; a fact which Lao-Tsze frequently emphasizes. Wuwei, another specifically Chinese concept, owes its particular significance to this condition. It signi- fies " doing nothing ", but, as Ular pertinently explains, it should be rendered: "not-doing, and not doing nothing". The rational " desire to bring it about ", which is the great- ness and the evil of our own epoch, does not lead to Tao. Thus the aim of the Taoistic ethic sets out to find deliverance from that tension of the opposites which is an inherent property of the universe, by a return to Tao. In this connection we must also remember the " Sage of Omi" Nakae Toju 1 , that distinguished Japanese philos- opher of the seventeenth century. Based upon the teaching of the Chu-Hi school which had migrated from China, he established two principles, Ri and Ki* Ri is the world- soul, Ki the world-matter. Ri and Ki are however one and the same, inasmuch as they are attributes of God, hence only existing in and through Him. God is their union. Similarly the soul embraces Ri and Ki. Concern- ing God, Toju says: "As the essence of the world, God enfoldeth the world, but at the same time He is also in our midst and even in our own bodies." For him God is a universal Self, while the individual Self is " heaven in us ", an immaterial, divine essence that is called Ryochi. Ryochi is " God in us ", and dwells in each individual. It is the true Self. For Toju distinguishes a true from a false self. The false self is an acquired personality arising from perverted beliefs. We might freely describe this false self as persona, i.e. that general idea of our nature which we have built up from experiencing our effect upon the world around and its effect upon us. The persona expresses the personality as it appears to oneself and one's world ; but not what one is, to use i Cf. Tetsujiro Inouye, Japan*** Philosophy (In Kultur der Gegen- wart 1913) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 269 the words of Schopenhauer. What one is, is one's individual Self,? 'according to Toju, one's true Self or Ryochi. Ryochi is also called "alone being", or "alone knowing", clearly because it is a condition related to the essence of the Self, a state existing beyond all personal judgments that are determined by outer experience.. Toju conceives Ryochi as the summum bonum, as 'bliss' (Brahman is Ananda bliss). Ryochi is the light which pervades the world; a further parallel with Brahman, according to Inouye. Ryochi is human love, immortal, all-knowing good. Evil comes from willing (Schopen- hauer !). It is the self-regulating function, the mediator and reconciler of the pairs of opposites, Ri and Ki: it is in fullest harmony with the Indian idea of the "ancient Wise One who dwelleth in* thy heart". Or as Wang- Yang-Ming, the Chinese father of the Japanese philosophy, says: "In every heart there dwelleth a Sejin (Sage). Only man will not steadfastly believe it therefore hath the whole remained buried." From the point we have now reached, the primordial image which contributed to the solution of the problem in Wagner's Parsifal is no longer hard to understand; the suffering proceeds from the tension of the opposites represented by the Grail and the power of Klingsor, the latter consisting in the possession of the holy spear. Beneath the spell of Klingsor is Kundry, the instinctive, nature-cleaving life-force which Amfortas lacks. Parsifal delivers the libido from the state of restless compulsion, because in the first place he does not succumb to her power, but in the second because he himself is detached from the Grail. Amfortas is with the Grail ; whereby he suffers, because he lacks the other. Parsifal possesses naught of either; he is 'nirdvandva** free from the opposites; hence he is also the deliverer, the bestower of healing and renewed life-force, the reconciler of the 270 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY opposites,/.*. the light, celestial, feminine, of the Grail, and the dark, earthly, masculine, of the spea4 The death of Kundty may be freely interpreted as the release of the libido from the nature-clinging, undomesticated form (the "form of the bull": compare above), which falls from her as a lifeless mould, while energy bursts forth as newly- streaming life in the glowing of the Grail. Through his partly involuntary abstention from the opposites, Parsifal causes the damming up by which the new 'fall', i.e. the new manifestation of energy is made possible. One might easily be misled by the unmistakably sexual language into a one-sided interpretation, by which the union of the spear and the vessel of the Grail would merely signify a liberation of sexuality. That it is not merely a question of sexuality, the fate of Amfortas makes clear, since it was precisely his rechute to a nature-bound, brutish attitude, which was the cause of his suffering and brought about the loss of his power. His seduction by Kundry has the value of a symbolic act, which would signify that it is not sexuality that deals such wounds so much as an attitude of nature-clinging compulsion, an irresolute yielding to biological temptation. This attitude is equivalent to the supremacy of the animal part of our psyche. The sacrificial wound that is destined for the beast strikes the man who is overcome by the beast (for the sake of man's further development). The fundamental problem, as I have already pointed out in my book Psychology of the Unconscious, is not sexuality per se, but the domestication of the libido, which concerns sexuality only in so far as it is one of the most important and most dangerous forms of libido expression. If, in the case of Amfortas and the union of spear and Grail, only the sexual problem is discerned, we reach an insoluble contradiction, since the thing that harms is THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 271 also the remedy that heals. But only when we see the opposites as reconciled upon a higher plane is such a paradox either true or permissible ; a realization, namely, that it is not a question of sexuality, either in this form or that, but purely a question of the attitude by which every activity, including the sexual, is regulated. Once again I must stress my view that the practical problem of analytical psychology lies deeper than sexuality and its repression. Such a view-point is doubtless valuable in explaining that infantile and therefore morbid part of the soul, but, as a principle of interpretation for the totality of the human soul, it is inadequate. What stands behind sexuality or the instinct to power is the attitude to sexuality and power. In so far as attitude is not merely an intuitive phenomenon (i.e. unconscious and spontaneous) but also a conscious function, it is, in the main, one*s view of life. Our views in regard to all problematical things are enormously influenced, some- times consciously but more often unconsciously, by certain collective ideas which mould our mental atmosphere. These collective ideas are intimately bound up with the view of life or world-philosophy of the past hundred or thousand years. Whether or no we are conscious of this dependence has nothing to do with the case, since we are influenced by these ideas through the very atmosphere we breathe. Such collective ideas have always a religious character, and a philosophical idea acquires a religious character only when it expresses a primordial image, it. a collective root-image. The religious character of these ideas pro- ceeds from the fact that they express the realities of the collective unconscious ; hence they also have the power of releasing the latent energies of the unconscious. The great problems of life sexuality, of course among others are always related to the primordial images of the collective unconscious. These images are really balancing Vf* THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY or compensating factors which correspond with the prob- lems life presents in actuality. This is not to be marvelled at, since these images are deposits, representing the accumulated experience of thousands of years of struggle for adaptation and existence. Every great experience in life, every profound conflict, evokes the treasured wealth of these images and brings them to inner perception ; as such, they become accessible to consciousness only in the presence of that degree of self-awareness and power of understanding which enables a man also to think what he experiences instead of just living it blindly. In the latter case he actually lives the myth and the symbol without know- ing it 4. The Relativity of the Symbol (a) The Service of Woman and the Service of the Soul The Service of God is the Christian principle which reconciles the opposites ; with Buddhism it is service of the Self (self-development); while the principle of solution suggested by Goethe and Spitteler is service of the soul^ symbolized in the service of woman. Contained herein is the principle of modern individual- ism on the one hand, and on the other a primitive poly- daemonism which assigns, not merely to every race but to every tribe, every family, even to every individual, its own religious principle. The medieval material in Faust possesses its quite extraordinary importance, because it is actually a medieval element which stands at the cradle of modern individualism. Individualism seems to have begun with the service of woman, thereby effecting a most important reinforcement of man's soul as a psychological factor ; since service of woman oceans service of the soul This is nowhere more THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 273 beautifully and perfectly expressed than in Dante's Divina Commedia. Dante is the spiritual knight of his lady ; he undertakes the adventure of the upper and nether worlds for her sake. And in this heroic labour her image is exalted into that heavenly, mystical figure of the Mother of God a figure which in its complete detachment from the object has become a personification of a purely psychological entity, *. that unconscious content whose personification I have termed the anima or soul. Canto xxxiii of the Paradise contains this crowning of Dante's spiritual development in the prayer of St Bernard : " Oh Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, More lovely, more sublime than any creature I Of the Lord of the eternal throne the chosen goal, Thou hast so ennobled the nature of man That He who created the highest good Hath chosen in thee to become creature." Concerning Dante's development we have verses 22 ff. " He who appeared from the deepest gorge Of the Universe, who with ghostly art and being, From realm to realm probing and inquiring, passed ; He entreateth with thee for thy strength, That he may lift up his eyes And consecrate his vision to the highest grace." Verses 3 iff. " May every cloud of his mortality Be banished through thy prayer I Unfolded Now for him the highest bliss and joy eternal." Verses 37 ffi " Let hrnr^ withstand the earthly motions. Behold, Beatrice 1 so many glorious ones Intercede for me, with folded hands." The fact that Dante here speaks through the mouth of St Bernard points to the transformation and exaltation of his own being. The same successive transformation is also seen in Faust, who ascends from Margaret to Helen, from Helen to the Mother of God ; his nature is altered 274 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY through repeated figurative deaths until he finally attains the highest goal as Doctor Marianus. As such Faust utters his prayer to the Virgin Mother : " Supreme and sovereign Mistress of the world I In the azure outstretched dome of Heaven Let me behold thy secret. The strong and tender motions of man's breast That with holy passion of love ascend to Thee Graciously approve. Unconquerable our courage burns* Under Thy celestial guidance Suddenly our passions cool In Thine assuaging calm. Oh Virgin, in highest sense most pure, Oh Mother, worthy of all worship, Our chosen Queen, equal with the Gods." And: " Gaze upon her saving glance, All ye frail and penitent, With grace accept your holy Fate, For when ye thank, ye prosper. Better seemeth every wish To her service given. Virgin Mother, Sovereign Queen, Goddess, ever gracious ! " In this connection, the significant symbol-attributes of the Virgin in the Litany of Loretto must also be mentioned : Mater amabilis Thou beloved Mother Mater admirabilis Thou wonderful Mother Mater boni consilii Thou Mother of good counsel Speculum justitiae Thou Mirror of justice Sedes sapientiae Thou Seat of wisdom Causa nostrse laetiidae Thou Source of our joy Vas spirituale Thou spiritual Vessel Vas honorabile Thou venerable Vessel Vas insigne devotionis Thou surpassing Vessel of devotion Rosa mystica Thou mystical Rose Turris Davidica Thou Tower of David Turris eburnea Thou Tower of ivory Domus aurea Thou House of gold Fcederis area Thou Ark of the Covenant Janua coeli Thou Gate of Heaven Stella matutina ' Thou Star of the morning (Missale Romanum) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 275 These attributes show the functional importance of the image of the Virgin Mother ; they demonstrate how the soul- image affects the conscious attitude, namely as vessel of devotion, as solid form, as source of wisdom and renewed life. In a most concise and comprehensive form we find this characteristic transition from the service of woman to the service of the soul in an Early Christian writing : The Shepherd of Hermas, who wrote about A.D. 140. This book, written in Greek, consists of a number of visions and revelations, which symbolically represent the con- solidation of the new faith. The book, long regarded as canonical, was nevertheless rejected by the Muratorian Canon. It begins as follows ; " The man who reared me, sold me to a certain Rhoda in Rome. After many years, I met with her again and began to love her like a sister. On a day a little while after, I saw her bathing in the Tiber, and gave her my hand and helped her out of the river. As I beheld her beauty, I had this thought in my heart : " Happy would I be, had I a wife of such beauty and such dis- tinction." That was my sole wish and nothing more (*repw to o* &>)." This experience was the starting-point for the visionary episode that followed. Hermas had apparently served Rhoda as slave ; then, as often happened, he obtained his freedom, and subsequently encountered her again, when, probably as much from gratitude as from pleasure, a feeling of love was stirred in his heart ; which, however, so far as he was aware, had merely the character of brotherly love. Hermas was a Christian, and moreover, as the text subsequently reveals, he was at that time already the father of a family ; circumstances which render the repression of the erotic element easily understandable. Yet the peculiar situation, doubtless provocative of many problems, was all the more favourable for bringing the erotic wish to consciousness. It is, in fact, quite clearly expressed in the thought that he would have 276 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY liked Rhoda for a wife, although it is definitely confined to this unqualified appreciation as Hermas is at pains to emphasize, since naturally the implied and more direct issue at once incurred a moral prohibition. It is abundantly clear from what follows that this repressed libido evoked a powerful transformation in his unconscious, for it imbued the soul image with life, thus bringing it to spontaneous efficacy. Let us now follow the text further : _ " After a certain time, as I journeyed unto Cuma, praising God's creation in its immensity, beauty, and power, in my going I grew heavy with sleep. And a spirit caught me up, and led me away through a pathless region where a man may not go. For it was a place full of crevices and torn by water-courses. I made my passage over the river and came upon even ground, where I threw myself upon my knees, and prayed to God, con- fessing my sins. While I thus prayed, the heavens opened and I beheld that lady for whom I yearned, who greeted me from heaven and said : ' Hafl to thee, Hennas ! ' While my eyes dwelt upon her, I spake and said : ' Mistress, what doest thou there ? ' And she answered : ' I was taken up, in order to charge thee with thy sins before the Lord/ I said unto her : ' Dost thou now accuse me ? ' ' No ', said she, ' yet hearken now unto the words which I shall speak unto thee. For God, who dwelleth in heaven, and hath created the existing out of the non-existing, and hath magnified it and brought it to increase for the sake of His Holy Church, is wroth with thee, because thou hast sinned against me.' I answered and spake unto her : ' How have I sinned against thee ? "When and where spake I ever an evil word unto thee ? Have I not looked upon thee as a goddess ? Have I not ever treated thee like a sister ? Wherefore, O lady, dost thou falsely charge me with such evil and unclean things ? ' She smiled and said unto me : ' The desire of sin arose in thy heart. Or is it not indeed a sin in thine eyes for a just man to cherish a sinful desire in his heart ? Verily is it a sin', said she, ' and a great one. For the just man striveth after what is just/" Solitary wanderings are, as we know, conducive to day-dreaming and reverie. Probably Hermas, on his way to Cumse was pondering on his mistress; while thus engaged, the repressed erotic phantasy gradually withdrew THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 277 his libido into the unconscious. Sleep overcame him, as a result of this lowering of the intensity of consciousness, and he fell into a somnambulent or ecstatic state, which is merely a phantasy of great intensity that altogether captivates the conscious. It is significant that what comes to him is no erotic phantasy, but he is transported as it were to another land, represented in phantasy as the crossing of a river and a journey through a pathless country. The unconscious appears to him as an opposite or over-world, in which events take place and men move about as in reality. His mistress appears before him, not in an erotic phantasy, but in "divine" form, seeming to him like a goddess in the heavens. This fact indicates that the repressed erotic impression in the unconscious has activ- ated the latent primordial image of the goddess, which is in fact the archetypal soul-image. The erotic impression has evidently become united in the collective unconscious with those archaic residues which from primordial time have held the imprints of vivid impressions of woman's nature ; woman as mother, and woman as desirable maid. Such impressions have immense power, since they release forces, both in .the child and the man, which, in their irresistible and absolutely compelling nature, merit the ^attribute divine. The recognition of these forces as daemonic powers can scarcely be due to moral repression, but rather to a self-regulation of the psychic organism which seeks by this orientation to protect itself from loss of equilibrium. For if, against the wholly overwhelming power of passion, which casts a man unconditionally in the path of another, the psyche succeeds in erecting a counterposition, whereby at the summit of passion it severs the idol from the utterly desired object and forces the man to his knees before the divine image, it has thereby delivered him from the curse of the object's spell. He is 278 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY restored again to himself; he is even forced upon himself; thus coming once more into his own way between gods and men, and subject to his own laws. The awful dread which haunts the primitive, that dread of every impressive phenomenon which he at once senses as magic, as though things were charged with magical power, preserves him in a practical way against that most dreaded possibility, the loss of the soul, with its inevitable sequel of disease or death. The loss of a soul corresponds with the tearing loose of an essential part of one's nature ; it is the disappearance and emancipation of a complex, which therewith becomes a tyrannical usurper of consciousness, oppressing the whole man ; it throws him out of his course, and constrains him to actions whose blind one-sidedness has self-destruction as its inevitable issue. The primitives are notoriously subject to such phenomena as running amok, Berserker rage, possessions, and the like. An intuitive knowledge of the daemonic character of this power supplies an effective guard, for such an insight at once deprives the object of its strongest spell, shifting its source to the world of daemons, *>. to the unconscious, whence the force of passion actually springs. Exorcising rites, whose aim is to bring back the soul and release the enchantment also effects this backflow of libido into the unconscious. This mechanism is clearly effective in the case of Hennas. The transformation of Rhoda into the divine mistress deprives the actual object of her provocative and destructive power, and brings Hennas under the law of his own soul and its collective determinants. By virtue of his ability, he doubtless took an important share in the spiritual movements of his age. At that very time his brother Pius occupied the episcopal see at Rome. Hermas, therefore, was called to .collaborate in the great of his time, in a higher degree than he, as a former THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 279 slave, may have consciously realized. No able mind of that time could for long have withstood the contemporary task of spreading Christianity, unless the limitations and conditions of race naturally assigned to him another function in the great process of spiritual transformation. Just as external conditions of life constrain a man to social functions, the soul also contains collective determinants which constrain him to the socializing of opinions and convictions. Through the conversion of a possible social trespass and a probable passional self- injury to the service of the soul, Hermas is guided to the accomplishment of a social task of a spiritual nature, which for that time was, assuredly, of no small importance. In order to fit him for this task, it is clearly necessary that his soul shall destroy the last possibility of an erotic bondage to the object For this last possibility means dishonesty towards himself. That he may consciously forswear the erotic desire, Hermas merely demonstrates that it would be more agreeable to him if the erotic desire did not exist, but he gives no kind of evidence that he actually has no erotic intentions and phantasies. There- fore his sovereign lady, the soul, mercilessly reveals to him the existence of his sin, thus releasing him from his secret bondage to the object As a "vessel of devotion" she therewith receives that passion which was on the point of being fruitlessly lavished upon the object. The last vestige of this passion had to be eradicated in order that the contemporary task might be accomplished ; this lay in the crying need of mankind for a severance from sensual bondage, i.t. the state of primitive " participation mystique'*. To the man of that age this subjection had become intolerable. Clearly a differentiation of the spiritual function had to take place, in order to re-establish psychic equilibrium.. Every one of those 28o THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY philosophical attempts to restore psychic poise 01 equanimity, which largely emanated from the Stoic teaching, foundered upon their rationalism. Reason can provide this desired equilibrium only to the man whose reason is already an organ of balance. But for how many individuals and at what period of history has this actually been the case? As a general rule, a man must also acquire the opposite of his own condition before he finds himself, willy-nilly, in the middle way. For the sake of mere reason he can never forgo the appealing sensuous- ness of the immediate situation. Against the power and temptation of the temporal, therefore, he must set the joy of the eternal, and against the passion of the sensual, the ecstasy of the spiritual. As real as the one is for him, must the other be compellingly effective. Through insight into the actual existence of his erotic desire it is possible for Hennas to reach a realization of this metaphysical reality; which means that the soul- image also acquires that sensual libido which has hitherto adhered to the concrete object. Henceforth this libido bestows upon the image, the idol, that reality which from all time the sense object has exclusively claimed as its own. Thus the soul is able to speak with effect, and successfully enforce her claims. After the talk with Rhoda recorded above, her image vanishes, and the heavens close. In her stead there now appears an " old woman in shining garments ", who informs Hermas that his erotic desire is a sinful and foolish under- taking against a venerable spirit, but that God is wroth with him, not so much on that account but because he, Hermas, tolerates the sins of his family. In this adroit way the libido is entirely withdrawn from the erotic wish and is directed in its next swing into the social task. An especial refinement lies in the fact that the soul has dis- carded the image of Rhoda and has taken on the aspect THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 281 of an old woman, thus allowing the erotic element to recede as far as possible into the background. It is later revealed to Hennas that this old woman is the Church, whereby the concrete and personal is dissolved into an abstraction and the ideal gains an actuality and a reality which it had never before possessed. Thereupon the old woman reads to him from a mysterious book directed in general against the heathen and apostates, but whose exact meaning he is unable to seize. Subsequently we learn that the book contains a mission. Thus the sovereign lady presents him with his task, which as her knight he needs must accomplish. The trial of virtue is also not lacking. For, not long after, Hermas has a vision, in which the old lady appears, promising to return about the fifth hour, in order to explain the revelation. Whereupon Hermas betook himself into the country to the appointed place, where he found a couch of ivory, set with a pillow and a cover of fine linen. "As I beheld these things lying there", writes Hennas, " I was sore amazed, and a quaking fell upon me and my hair stood on end, and a dreadful fear befell me, because I was alone in that place. But when I came once more to myself, I remem- bered the glory of God and took new courage ; I knelt down and again confessed my sins unto God, as I had done before. Then she drew near with six young men, the which also I had seen before, and stood beside me and listened while I prayed and confessed my sins unto God. And she touched me and said: ' Hermas, have done with all thy prayers and the reciting of thy sins. Pray also for righteousness, whereby thou mayest bear some of it with thee to thy house/ And she raised me up by the hand and led me to the couch, and said unto the young men : *' Go and build I ' And when the youths were gone and we were alone, she said unto me : ' Sit thee here 1 ' I said unto her : ' Mistress, let the aged first be seated.' She said : ' Do as I said unto thee and be thou seated.' But, when I made as though to seat myself upon her right hand, she motioned me with a gesture of the hand to be seated upon her left " As I wondered thereat, and was troubled, that I might not sit upon the right side, she said unto me : ' Why art thou . grieved, Hennas ? The seat upon the right is for those who K* *8a THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY are already well-pleasing to God and have suffered for the Name. But to thee there lacketh much before thou canst sit with them. Yet remain as heretofore in thy simplicity, and thou shalt surely sit with them, and thus shall it be for all who shall have accom- plished the work which those wrought, and endured what they suffered.' " The erotic misunderstanding of the situation was indeed very possible for Hermas. The rendez-vous has at once the feeling of a trysting-place in "a beautiful and sequestered spot" (as he puts it). The rich couch waiting there is a fatal reminder of Eros, and makes the fear which overcomes Hermas at this spectacle seem very intelligible. Clearly he must vigorously combat the erotic association, lest he fall into a profane mood. He certainly does not appear to have recognized the temptation, unless perhaps this recognition is taken as self-evident in the description of his dread, an honesty which was far more possible to a man of that time than to a man of to-day. For in that age man was more nearly in touch with his whole nature than are we hence he was all the more likely to have a direct perception of his natural reactions and to appreciate them correctly. In this case his con- fession of sin may have aroused forthwith the perception of a profane feeLng. In any case the question arising at this juncture, as to whether he shall sit on the right hand or the left, leads to a moral reprimand at the hands of his mistress. In spite of the fact that signs coming from the left were regarded as favourable in the Roman auguries, the left side, both with the Greeks and the Romans was on the whole inauspicious; allusion to this is found in the double meaning of the word ' sinister '. But the question here raised of right and left, as an immediately ensuing passage shows, has nothing to do with popular super- stitions; it is clearly of Biblical origin, referring to xxv, 33: "He shall set the sheep on His right THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 283 hand, but the goats on the left". Sheep by virtue of their harmless and gentle nature, are an allegory for the good, while the unruly and salacious character of goats provides a suitable image of evil. His mistress, therefore, by assigning to him the seat on the left, figuratively reveals to him her understanding of his psychology. When Hermas has taken his seat upon the left, rather sadly, as he records, his soul-mistress further reveals to him a visionary scene, which unrolls itself before his eyes : he beholds how the youths, assisted by ten thousand other men, build a mighty tower whose stones fit one into the other without joints. This jointless tower (hence by its very nature of indestructible solidity) symbolizes the Church, so Hermas understands. The mistress is the Church^ and so is the tower. In the attributes of the Lorettian Litany we have already seen how the Virgin is characterized as Turris Davidica and Tunis ebumea (tower of ivory). It would seem as though an identical or similar association were concerned here. The tower undoubtedly has the meaning of something steadfast and secure suggesting the reference in the Psalms^ Ivi, 4 : " For Thou hast been a shelter for me And a strong tower from the enemy ". A certain resemblance to the Tower of Babel can, I think, be excluded from our interpretation, on the strength of strong internal counter-evidence. None the less it may have chimed in, since Hermas, in company with every other thinking mind of that epoch, must have - suffered much from the depressing spectacle of the ceaseless schisms and heretical strifes of the Early Church. Such an impression may also have provided the essential motive for the writing of this book ; an inference to which we are all the more entitled by the fact that the revealed book is directed against heathens and apostates. That same confusion of tongues which frustrated the Tower of Babel 284 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY almost completely dominated the Christian Church in the first century, demanding desperate exertions on the part of the faithful to overcome the confusion. Since Christendom at that time was far from being one flock under one shepherd, it was only natural that Hermas longed to find the mighty "shepherd", the Potmen, as well as that firm and stable form which should unite in one inviolable whole the elements gathered from all the four winds, the mountains and the seas. Chthonic craving, sensuality in all its manifold forms/ with its eager hold upon the enticements of the world and its incessant dissipation of psychic energy in the world's prodigal variety, is a crowning hindrance to the development of a coherent and purposive attitude. Hence the elimination of this obstacle must have been the most important task of that time. It is therefore not sur- prising that in the Potmen of Hermas, it is the vanquish- ing of this very obstacle that is unfolded before our eyes. We have already seen how the original erotic stimulus and the energy thereby released became translated into the personification of the unconscious complex, i.e the figure of Ecclesia as the old woman, who in her visionary appearances demonstrates the spontaneity of the under- lying complex. We learn, moreover, at this point that the old woman, the Church, becomes the Tower, as it were, since the Tower is also the Church. This transition is un- expected, for the connection between the Tower and the old woman is not immediately evident. The attributes of the Virgin in the Lorettian Litany, however, will help us upon the right track, because there we find, as already mentioned, the attribute " tower " associated with the Virgin Mother. ' This attribute has its source in The Song of Songs, IV, 4 : " Sicut turris David collum tuum, quae sedificata est cum pro- pugnaculis." (" Thy neck is like the tower of David, buflded for an armoury "). THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 285 VII, 4 : " Collum tuum sicut turris eburnea." (" Thy neck is as a tower of ivory"). Similarly VIII, 10 : "Ego mums, et ubera mea sicut turris." (" I am a wall, and my breasts like towers.") The Song of Songs, as is well known, was originally a secular love-poem, perhaps a wedding-song which was actually denied canonical recognition by Jewish scholars till quite recently. Mystical interpretation, however, always loved to conceive the bride as Israel and the bridegroom as Jehovah, and, indeed, from a right instinct ; since the aim of this conception is a translation of the erotic emotion into a national relationship with God. From the same motives Christianity also possessed itself of The Song of Songs, in order to conceive the bridegroom as Christ and the bride as the Church. To the psychology of the Middle Ages this analogy had an extraordinary appeal, and it inspired the perfectly frank Christian erotism of medieval mysticism, of which Mechtild von Magdeburg is one of the most shining examples. In this spirit was the Lorettian Litany conceived. It de- rives certain attributes of the Virgin directly from The Song of Songs. We have already shown this in connec- tion with the tower symbol. The rose is already employed by the Greek fathers as an attribute of Mary; so too is the lily; these are also related to The Song of Songs, 2, I : " Ego flos campi et lilinm convaUram. Sicut lilium inter spinas, sic arnica mea inter filias." " I am the rose of Sharon, And the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters." An image much used in the medieval hymns to Mary is the "enclosed garden" from The Song of Songs, 4, 12: "Hortus conclusus, soror mea sponsa" ("A garden Enclosed is my sister, my spouse") and the 286 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY " sealed fountain ". (Song of Songs, 4, 1 2 : " fons signatus >f " A spring shut up, a fountain sealed "). The unmistakably erotic nature of this simile in The Song of Songs is explicitly accepted as such by the Fathers. Thus, for example, St Ambrosius interprets the hortus conclusus as Virginity (De Instit. Virg.> c. 10). In the same way St Ambrosius compares (Comm. in Apoc., c. 6) Mary with Moses' basket of rushes : " per fiscellain scirpeain, beata virgo designata est. Mater ergo fiscellam scirpeain, in qua Moses ponebatur ; praeparavit, quia sapientia del, quae est filius del, beatam Mariam Virgiaem elegit, in cuius utero hominem, cui per unitatem personae con- jungeretur, formavit." (" Like a basket of rushes is the blessed Virgin designated. Therefore the mother prepared the basket in which Moses was laid ; because the wisdom of God, which is the Son of God, chose the blessed Virgin Mary, in whose womb he fashioned himself man, and with whom by unity of person he became united.") St Augustine employs the simile (frequently used later) of the thalamus (bridal chamber) for Mary, again with an express implication of the anatomical meaning : " elegit sibi thalamum castum, ubi conjungeretur sponsus sponsae" (Serm., 192) ("He chose for himself the chaste bridal chamber, where as spouse he could be joined to spouse "), and " processit de thalamo suo, id est, de utero virginali" (Serm.> 124) ("He issued forth out of the bridal chamber, i.e. from the virginal womb "). The interpretation of vas as uterus may accordingly be taken as certain, when parallel with the just quoted passage from St Augustine, we have St Ambrosius saying: "non de terra, sed de coelo vas sibi hoc, per quod descenderet, elegit, et sacravit templum pudoris " (De Instit Vtrg., c. 5) (" Not of earth but of Heaven did He choose this vessel for Himself, through which He should descend and sanctify the temple of shame"). Similarly with the Greek Fathers the designation cncevo? (vessel) is not infrequent. Here, too, the derivation from the erotic allegory of The Song of THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 287 Songs is not improbable, for, although the designation vas does not appear in the Vulgate text, we come upon the image of the goblet and of drinking: "Umbilicus tuus crater tornatilis nunquam indigens poculis. Venter tuus sicut acervus tritici, vallatus liliis." ;" Thy navel is like a round goblet, Wherein no mingled wine is wanting : Thy belly is like an heap of wheat Set about with lilies." Song of Songs, VII, 2) Parallel with the meaning of the first sentence, we find Mary compared with the cruse of oil of the widow of Sarepta in the Meisterlieder of the Colmar manuscript (Bartsch, Stuttgart 1862). ".Sarepta in Sydonien lant dar Helyas wart gesant zuo einesr witwen diu in solte neren, der glfcht mtn Up wol wirdeclich, d6 den propheten sant in mich got und uns wolt die tiurunge verkSren." (" Sarepta in the Sidonian land, whither Elias was sent to a widow who should nourish him ; my body is meetly compared with hers, for God sent the prophet unto me, to change ior us our time of famine.") Parallel with the second sentence St Ambrosius says : " In quo Virginis utero simul acervus tritici et lilii flores gratia germinabat : quoniam et granum tritici generabat et lilium, etc." (" In the womb of the Virgin grace increased like a heap of wheat and the flowers of the lily, just as it also generated the grain of wheat and the lily"). Very remote passages are enlisted by Catholic authorities (Salzer, Sinribilder und Beinamen Mariens) in the quest of this vessel-symbolism, as for instance Song of Songs, I, I : " Osculetur me osculo oris sui : quia meliora sunt ubera tna vino." " Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth : For thy love is better than wine." (love : lit. breasts) and even from the book si Exodus XVI, 33 : "And Moses said unto Aaron : ' Take a pot, and put an omer full of 288 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY manna therein, and lay it up before the Lord, to be kept for your generations.' " These artificial associations tell against, rather than for, the Biblical origin of the vessel-symbolism. In favour of the possibility of an extra-Biblical origin, we have the undeniable fact that the medieval hymn to Mary boldly borrows its similes from everywhere, and practically every- thing that is in any way precious is associated with the Virgin. The fact that the vessel-symbol is certainly very ancient 1 it springs from the period of the third and fourth centuries does not argue against its worldly origin, since even the Fathers inclined towards extra-Biblical, " heathenish " similes ; as for instance Tertullian 2 , St Augustine 8 , and others, who compared the Virgin with the earth still undefiled and the unploughed field, certainly not without an obvious side glance towards Kore 4 of the mysteries. Such comparisons were moulded upon pagan models just as Cumont has shown in the early medieval ecclesiastical book - illustration in the case of Elijah's ascension into Heaven, which holds closely to an antique Mithraic prototype. In usages innumerable, of which not i The magic cauldron of the Celtic mythology is further evidence of the vigorous pagan root that contributed to the vessel symbolism. Dagda, one of the benevolent gods of ancient Ireland, has such a cauldron, which fills everybody with food according to his needs or merits. The Celtic god Bran also possesses the cauldron of renovation. It has even been suggested that the name Brons, one of the figures of the Grail legend, is really a development of this Bran. Alfred Nutt considers that Bran, lord of the cauldron, and Brons, are steps in the transformation of the Celtic Peredur Saga into the quest of the Holy Grail. It would seem, therefore, that the Grail motives already existed in Celtic mythology. I am indebted to Dr Maurice NicoU, of London, for the above allusions. * "Ilia terra virgo nondum pluviis rigata nee imbribus fcecun- data, &c." (" This virgin land has not been watered by rain nor fertilized by showers "). " Veritas de terra orta est, quia Christus de Virgine natus est." (" Truth is born of the earth, because Christ was born of the Virgin ".) * Kore -Virgin-goddess, identical with Sophia of the Gnosis Cf W. Bousset, Havptproblem* der G*osi$. 1907. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 289 the least is the translation of Christ's birth to the * natalis solis invicti ' (birthday of the invincible sun), the Church followed the pagan model. Thus St Hieronymus compares the Virgin with the sun as the mother of light These designations of an extra-Biblical nature can have had their source only in the pagan conceptions still current at that time. It is therefore only just, when con- sidering the vessel-symbol, to call to mind the well-known and widely spread Gnostic vessel-symbolism of that time. A great number of contemporary gems have been preserved which bear the symbol of a vessel, or cruse, with remark- able winged bands, at once recalling the uterus with the ligamenta lata. This vessel, according to Matter, is termed the " Vase of Sin ", in contrast with the hymn to Mary, in which the Virgin is extolled as * vas virtutum '. King ( The Gnostics and their Remains, p. 1 1 1) rejects such an idea as arbitrary, and agrees with Kohler's view that the cameo-image (principally Egyptian) refers to the pitcher of the Persian wheel, which pumps the Nile water over the fields, and that this also explains the peculiar bands which clearly served for fastening the pitcher to the wheel. The fertilizing activity of the pitcher was, as King notes, expressed in antique phraseology as the "impregna- tion of Isis by the seed of Osiris ". One frequently finds upon the vessel a winnowing-basket, probably with reference to the " mystica vannus Jacchi " (" the mystical winnowing "basket of lakchos "), or X/KI/OV, the figurative birth-place of the grain of wheat' and symbol of the god of fertility (Cf. Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious, p. 374). There used to be a Greek marriage-ceremony in which a winnow- ing-basket filled with fruit was laid upon the head of the bride, a manifest fertility charm. This conception approaches the ancient Egyptian idea that everything originated from the primeval water, Nu 290 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY or Nut, which is identified either with the Nile or the Ocean. Nu is written with three pots, three water marks, and the sign of heaven. In a hymn to Ptah-Tenen we find : " Maker of grain, which cometh forth from Him in His name Nu the Aged, who maketh the water appear on the mountains, to give life unto man and woman." 1 Sir Wallis Budge drew my attention to the fact that the uterus symbolism also exists to-day in the Southern Egyptian hinterland in the form of rain and fertility charms. Occasionally it still happens that the natives in the bush kill a woman and take out her uterus, in order to make use of this organ in magical rites. (Cf. P. Amaury Talbot, "/* the Shadow of the Bush ", pp. 67, 74 ff.) When one bears in mind how powerfully the Fathers of the Church were influenced by Gnostic ideas, in spite of the strongest resistance to such heresies, it is not unthinkable that in this very symbolism of the vessel a pagan relic which proved adaptable to Christianity should have crept in; all the more easily, in fact, since the Virgin worship is itself a vestige of paganism, by which the Christian Church secured the entail of the Magna Mater, Isis, and others. The image of the Vas sapientta also recalls a Gnostic prototype, viz. Sophia, an immensely significant symbol for the Gnosis. I have lingered rather longer upon the vessel symbolism than my readers might have expected. I have done this, however, for a definite reason, because, to my mind, this legend of the Grail, so essentially characteristic of the early Middle Ages, contains considerable psychological enlightenment in its relation to the service of woman. The central religious idea of this infinitely varied legendary material is the holy vessel, which, as everyone must see, is a thoroughly non-Christian image, whose origin is to be sought in other than canonical sources. On the i Badge* The Gods of the Egyptians, i. 511 (1904) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 291 strength of the foregoing arguments, I believe it to be a genuine piece of the Gnosis, which either survived the rooting out of heresies by means of secret tradition, or owed its resurrection to an unconscious reaction against the dominion of official Christianity. The survival, or unconscious revivification, of the vessel-symbol indicates a strengthening of the feminine principle in the masculine psychology of that time. This symbolization by means of a mysterious image must be interpreted as a spiritualizing of the erotic motive evoked by the service of woman. But spiritual transformation always means the holding back of a sum of libido, which would otherwise be immediately squandered in sexuality. Experience shows that, when a sum of libido is thus retained, one part of it flows into the spiritualized expression, while the remainder sinks into the unconscious, where it effects a certain activation of corresponding images of which this vessel symbolism is the expression. The symbol lives through the holding back of certain libido forms, and then in its turn becomes an effective control of these libido tendencies. The dissolution of the symbol is synonymous with a dispersal of libido along the immediate path, or at least with an almost irresistible urge towards direct application. But the living symbol exorcises this peril. A symbol loses its magical, or, if one prefers it, its redeeming power, as soon as its dissolubility is recognised. An effective symbol, therefore, must have a nature that is unimpeachable.' It must be the best possible expression of the existing world-philosophy, a container of meaning which cannot be surpassed ; its form must also be sufficiently remote from comprehension as to frustrate every attempt of the critical intellect to give any satisfactory account of it ; and, finally, its aesthetic appearance must have such a convincing appeal to feeling that no sort of argument can be raised against it on that score* 292 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY For a certain period the Grail symbol clearly fulfilled these demands, and to this circumstance its living efficacy was due, which, as the example of Wagner shows, is even to-day not exhausted, although our age and our psychology are urgent for its solution. Official Christianity, therefore, absorbed certain Gnostic elements which were manifesting themselves in the psychology of the service of woman, and found a place for them in an intensified worship of Mary. From an abundance of equally interesting material I have selected the Lorettian Litany as a familiar example of this assimila- tion process. This assimilation into the general Christian symbol dealt a death-blow to the service of woman, which was really a swelling bud in the process of soul-culture for man. His soul, which expressed itself in the image of the chosen mistress, lost its individual expression in this translation into the general symbol. Consequently the possibility of an individual differentiation was also lost; it was inevitably repressed by the collective expression. Such deprivations always tend to have bad results, and in this case they soon became apparent For, in so far as the soul relation to woman was expressed in the collective Virgin worship, the image of woman lost a value to which human nature has a certain natural claim. This value, for which only individual choice can provide a natural expression, relapses into the unconscious when the individual is replaced by a collective expression. In the unconscious the image of woman now receives an energic value which in its turn activates certain infantile archaic dominants l . The relative depreciation of the real woman is thus compensated by daemonic impulses, since all unconscious contents, in so far 1 as they are activated by split off sums 1 For further references to this process cf . Jung, Psychology of Unconscious Processes, ch, ariv (Collected Papers, 19x7). THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 293 rf libido, appear projected upon the object. In a certain sense man loves woman less as a result of this relative depreciation hence she appears as a persecutor, i.e. a ivitch. Thus the delusion about witches, that ineradicable blot upon the Later Middle Ages, developed along with, and indeed as a result of, the intensified worship of the Virgin. But this was not the only consequence. Through the splitting-off and repression of an im- portant progressive tendency a certain general activation of the unconscious came about. This activation could find no satisfying outlet in the general Christian symbol, since adequate expression at once demands individual forms of expression. Thus the way was paved for heresies and schisms, against which a conscious Christian orienta- tion must fanatically defend itself. The frenzy of the Inquisition was the product of over-compensated doubt which came crowding up from the unconscious, and its final result was one of the greatest schisms of the Church, viz. the Reformation. From this rather lengthy discussion the following insight is gained. We set out from that vision of Hermas in which he was shown how a tower was to be built. The old woman, who had at first been interpreted as the Church, now explains that the tower is the symbol of the Church ; whereby her significance is transferred to the tower, with which the further text of the Potmen is wholly taken up. Henceforth his principal concern is with the tower, no longer with the old woman, and least of all with the real Rhoda. The detachment of the libido from the real object, its translation into the symbol and conversion into a symbolic function, is thus completed. Henceforth the idea of a universal and undivided Church, expressed in the symbol of a jointless and immovable tower, becomes an unshakable reality in the mind of Hermas. There is a displacement of libido away from the object 294 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY into the subject, whereby the unconscious images are activated. These images are archaic forms of expression, which become symbols, and appear in their turn as equivalents for relatively depreciated objects. This process is in any case as old as mankind; symbols appear among the relics of prehistoric man, just as they abound among the lowest living types of to-day. Clearly, therefore, a biological function of supreme import- ance must also be concerned in this symbol-forming process. Since the symbol can come to life only at the expense of a relative depreciation of the object, it follows that its purpose is also concerned with object depreciation. If the object had an unconditional value, it would also be absolutely determining for the subject, thereby entirely prohibiting all subjective freedom of action, since even a relative freedom could no longer exist in the presence of unconditional determination by the object. The condition of absolute relatedness to the object is synonymous with a complete externalization of the process of consciousness, *.. with an identification of subject and object, whereby every possibility of cognition is destroyed. In attenuated form this condition still exists to-day among the primitives. The so-called projections that are familiar enough in our analytical practice are also mere residua of this original identity of subject and object. The prohibition and exclusion of all cognition and conscious experience which results from such a state means a considerable sacrifice of the power of adaptation, and this weights the scales heavily against man, who is already handicapped by his natural defencelessness and by a progeny which for many years has a relative inferiority to that of other animals. But the cognitionless state also means a dangerous inferiority, from the standpoint of affectivity, because an identity of feeling with the object possesses the following disadvantages. Firstly, any object THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 295 whatsoever can affect the subject to any degree, and, secondly, any sort of affect on the part of the subject also immediately compromises and violates the object. An episode from the life of a bushman may illustrate what I mean : A bushman had a little son, upon whom he lavished the characteristic doting fondness of the primitives. It is obvious that, psychologically, such a love is wholly auto- erotic, *. the subject loves himself in the object In a sense the object serves as an erotic mirror. One day the bushman came home in a rage : he had been fishing, and had caught nothing. As usual the little fellow ran eagerly to meet him. But the father seized him and wrung his neck upon the spot. Subsequently, of course, he mourned for the dead boy with the same abandon and lack of comprehension as had before made him strangle him. This case is a good example of the identity of the object with the affect of the moment Clearly such a mentality is a very serious hindrance to every protective organization of the tribe. From the standpoint of the propagation and extension of the species, it is an unfavour- able factor ; hence in a species with strong vitality it must be repressed and transformed. This is the purpose the symbol serves, and for this end it came into being, since it withdraws a certain sum of libido from the object, which is thereby relatively depreciated, bestowing the libido surplus upon the subject. But this surplus operates within the unconscious of the subject, who now finds himself between an inner and an ' outer determinant, whence arises the possibility of choice and a relative subjective freedom. The symbol is always derived from archaic residues, or imprints engraven in the very stem of the race, about whose age and origin one can speculate much although nothing definite can be determined. It would certainly 296 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY be quite wrong to look to personal sources for the source of the symbol, as for instance repressed sexuality. At best, such a repression could only furnish the libido-sum which activates the archaic imprint The imprint (engram) corresponds with a functional inheritance whose existence is not contingent upon ordinary sexual repression but pro- ceeds from instinct differentiation in general. Differentia- tion of instinct is an essential biological measure ; it is not something peculiar to the human species, for it finds an even more drastic manifestation in the sexual deprivation of the working bee. In the foregoing instances of the vessel-symbol, I have demonstrated the source of the symbol in archaic ideas. Since we find the primitive notion of the uterus at the root of this symbol, a similar origin might be surmised in connection with the tower symbol. The tower may well belong to that category of symbols, fundamentally phallic, in which the history of symbols is so rich. It is hardly to be wondered at that the moment which reveals to Hermas the alluring couch, thus demanding the repression of the erotic phantasy, should also evoke a phallic symbol, which presumably corresponds with erection. We saw that other symbolic attributes of the Virgin Church have also an undoubted erotic origin, already confirmed as such by their derivation from 714* Song of Songs, and moreover expressly so interpreted by the Fathers. The tower symbol of the Lorettian Litany springs from the same source and may, therefore, have a similar root-meaning. The attribute "ivory" given to the tower is doubtless of an erotic nature, since it refers to the tint and texture of skin (Song of Songs, 5, 14: "His belly is as bright ivory"). But the tower itself is also found in an unmistakably erotic connection in The Song of Songs, 8, 10 : " I am a wall, and my breasts like towers", which surely refers to the prominence of THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 297 the breasts with their full and elastic consistency, as in the similar passage: "His legs are as pillars of marble" (5, 15). In further unison we find: "Thy neck is as a tower of ivory", and "Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon " (7, 5), an obvious allusion to something slender and projecting. These attributes originate in tactile and organic sensations, which are transferred into the object Just as a gloomy mood seems gray, and a joyous one bright and coloured, the sense of touch is likewise under the influence of subjective sexual sensations (in this case the sensation of erection), whose quality is transferred to the object The erotic psychology of The Song of Songs effects an enhancement of value in the object by directing upon it the images awakened in the subject Ecclesiastical psychology employs these same images in order to pilot the libido upon the figurative object, while the psychology of Hermas raised the uncon- sciously awakened image to an aim in itself wherein to embody ideas which held a supreme importance for the mentality of that time, namely the consolidation and organization of the newly won Christian attitude and view of life. (b) The Relativity of the Idea of God in Meister Eckehart The process which Hermas passed through, represents on a small scale what took place in early medieval psychology, namely, a new revelation of woman and the flowering of the feminine Grail symbol. Hermas saw Rhoda in a new light, while the sum of libido thereby released became unconsciously transformed into the accomplishments of the social task of his time. It is, I think, characteristic of our psychology that the present epoch was, as it were, ushered in by two minds who were destined to have immense influence upon the hearts and minds of the younger generation; 298 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY Wagner, the advocate of love, who in his music sounds the whole scale of feeling from Tristan down to incestuous passion, and from Tristan up to the loftiest spirituality of the Grail, and Nietzsche, the advocate of power and of the victorious will of the individuality. In his last and loftiest utterance Wagner took hold of the Grail legend, as Goethe selected Dante, while Nietzsche chose the image of a lordly caste and a lordly morality, an image which had found its embodiment in many a fair-haired heroic and knightly figure of the Middle Ages. Wagner breaks the bonds that stifle love, while Nietzsche shatters the "tables of value" that cramp the individuality. They both strive after similar goals, while at the same time creating irremediable discord, for, where love is, individual power can never prevail, while the dominating power of the individual precludes the reign of love. The fact that three of the greatest of German minds should fasten upon early medieval psychology in their most important works, is, in my view, proof enough that there is still an unanswered problem surviving from that age. It may be well, therefore, to try and gain a nearer view of this question. For I have a strong impression that the mysterious something which sprang to life in certain knightly orders of that time (the Templars for instance), and which seems to have found its expression in the legend of the Grail, may possibly contain a shoot or bud of a new orientation to life, in other words a new symbol. The non-Christian or Gnostic character of the Grail symbol takes us back to those Early Christian heresies, those almost grandiose foundations, which con- ceal so great an abundance of daring and brilliant ideas. Now the Gnosis displays unconscious psychology in full flower, perhaps in almost perverse luxuriance ; it reveals, therefore, that very element which most stoutly resists the ( regula fidei', that Promethean, and creative THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 299 spirit which will submit only to the soul and to no collec- tive ruling. Although in a crude form, we find in the Gnosis that belief in the power of individual revelation and of individual discernment which was absent in the later centuries. This belief had its source in that proud feeling of individual relationship with God which is sub- ject to no human statute, and which may even constrain the gods by the sheer might of understanding. Within the Gnosis lay the beginning of that way which led to the intuitions of German mysticism (with their immense psychological significance) which was actually in its flower at the time of which we are speaking. The focussing of the question now before us immedi- ately brings to our mind the greatest thinker of that time, Meister Eckehart 1 Just as signs of a new orientation became perceptible in chivalry, so in Eckehart new thoughts confront us ; thoughts belonging to that same psychic orientation which prompted Dante to follow the image of Beatrice into the underworld of the unconscious, and which inspired the singers who sang the rune of the Grail. Nothing is known, unfortunately, of Eckehart's personal life which could shed light upon the way which led him to his knowledge of the soul. But it is with a sense of deep contemplation that he observes in his discourse upon repent- ance : " ouch noch erfiilget man selten, daz die liutekoment ze grdzen dingen, sie sfen zu dem Srsten etwaz vertreten". ("And still to-day one findeth rarely, that people come to great things without they first go somewhat astray.") This permits us to conclude that he wrote from personal experi- ence. Strangely appealing is Eckehart's feeling of the inner relation with God, when contrasted with the Christian feeling of sinfulness. We feel ourselves transported into i Johannes (or Heinrich) Eckehart, German Dominican monk, bora about 1250 and died about 1328. [Translator], 300 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the atmosphere of the Upanishads. A quite extraordinary enhancement of the soul's value must have taken place in Eckehart, i.e. a magnified sense of his own inner being, that enabled him to rise to a, so to speak, purely psycho- logical, hence relative, conception of God and of His relation with man. The discovery and circumstantial formidation of the relativity of God to man and his soul, is, in my view, one of the most important steps upon the way to a psychological understanding of the religious phenomenon; it is the dawning possibility of a liberation of the religious function from the stifling limitations of intellectual criticism, though this criticism has, of course, an equal right to existence. We now come to the real task of this chapter, namely the discussion of the relativity of the symbol. To my mind the relativity of God denotes a point of view which ceases to regard God as an "absolute", i.e. removed from the human subject and existing outside all human condi- tions, but as, in a certain sense, dependent upon the human subject ; it also involves the existence of a reciprocal and indispensable relation between man and God, whereby man is not merely regarded as a function of God, but God also becomes a psychological function of man. To our analytical psychology, which from the human standpoint must be regarded as an empirical science, the image of God is the symbolic expression of a certain psychological state, or function, which has the character of absolute superiority to the conscious will of the subject ; hence it can enforce or bring about a standard of accom- plishment that would be unattainable to conscious effort This overwhelming impulse in so far as the divine function is manifested in action or this inspiration that transcends all conscious understanding, proceeds from a heaping-up of energy in the unconscious. This libido accumulation animates images which the collective unconscious contains THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 301 as latent possibilities. Here is the source of the God- imago, that imprint which from the beginning of time has been the collective expression of the most powerful and absolute operation of unconscious libido-concentration upon consciousness. Hence, for our psychology, which as a science must confine itself to the empirical within the limits set by our cognition, God is not even relative, but a function of the unconscious, namely the manifestation of a split-off sum of libido, which has activated the GoA-imago. To the orthodox view God is, of course, absolute, *. existing in Himself. Such a conception implies a complete severance from the unconscious, which means, psychologically, a complete unawareness of the fact that the divine effect springs from one's* own inner self. But the standpoint of the relativity of God signifies that a not inconsiderable part of the unconscious processes is discerned, at least by inference, as a psychological content Such an insight, of course, can only take place when the soul is granted a more than ordinary attention, when in fact the unconscious contents are withdrawn from their projections into objects, and a certain awareness is granted them (the contents), so that they now appear as belonging to and conditioned by the subject This was the case with the mystics. Not that this was the first appearance of the idea of the relativity of God in general, for there exists both naturally and fundamentally a relativity of God among the primitives. Almost universally on the lower human levels the idea of God has a purely dynamic character, *. God is a Divine force, related to health, to the soul, to medicine, to riches, to the chief a force which certain procedures can procure, and turn to the making of things essential to the life and health of man, as also upon occasion to the production of magical and malevolent effects. The primitive feels this force as much outside him as within, 30* THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY i.e. it is just as much his own life-force as it is the "medicine" in his amulet, or the influence emanating from his chief. This is the first demonstrable conception of a permeating and imbuing spiritual force. Psycho- logically, the power of the fetich, or the prestige of the medicine-man, is an unconscious subjective evaluation of these objects. Fundamentally, therefore, it is a question of the libido, which is present in the subject's unconscious and is perceived in the object, because whenever uncon- scious contents are activated they appear projected. The relativity of God of medieval mysticism is, therefore, a harking -back to a primitive condition. Whereas the kindred Eastern conceptions of the individual and supra- individual Atman are not so much a regression to the primitive as a constantly unfolding development away from the primitive, in harmony with the Eastern way, though still retaining principles already clearly present and effective among the primitives. This barking-back to the primitive is not at all surprising, in view of the fact that every vital form of religion, either in its ceremonials or its ethics, embodies one or more primitive tendency, whence indeed proceed those mysterious in- stinctive forces which promote the perfecting of human nature in the religious process. 1 This recourse to, or interrupted connection with, the primitive (as in the Indian) means a contact with mother-Earth, the original source of all power. Every point-of-view which is differ- entiated to rational or ethical standards must sense these instinctive forces as * impure '. But life itself flows from clear and muddy springs. Hence every too great ' purity ' also lacks vitality. Every renewal of life emerges through the muddy towards the clear. A constant effort towards clarity and differentiation involves a proportionate lack of * There axe numerous examples of this. I have mentioned a few in Psychology of the Unconscious. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 303 vital intensity, because of the very exclusion of muddy elements. The process of development needs the muddy as well as the clear. This was clearly perceived by the great relativist Meister Eckehart when he says : " Dar umbe ltdet got genie den schaden der sttnden untie hat dicke gelitten und aller dickest verhenget uber die menschen, die er hat versehen, daz er sie ze gr&zen dingen ziehen welle. Nim war ! Wer was unserm herren ie lieber unde heimlicher denne die aposteln wSxen ? Der beleip nie keiner, er viele in t6tsftnden, alle waren sie t6tsunder gewesen. Daz hat er in der alten unde niuwen dicke bewlset von den, die ime verre die liebsten darnach males wurden, und ouch noch erfraget man selten, daz die liute koment ze grdzen dingen, sie sten ze dem eTsten etwax vertreten" (" Therefore suffereth God willingly the mischief of sins and much hath He suffered ; moreover, those hath he burdened most whom he chose to lead to great things. Behold I who were more near and dear to our Lord than the apostles ? None there was who fell not into deadly sins ; all were mortal sinners. This hath he shown in the old and new covenants (which he made) with those who afterwards he loved the most ; and still to-day one rarely findeth. people coming to great things who first go not somewhat astray.") PfeifEer, Deutsche Mystiker, vol. ii Both on account of his psychological penetration and of his religious feeling and thought, Meister Eckehart is the most brilliant representative of that critical movement in the Church at the close of the thirteenth century. I would like therefore to cite a few of his sayings, which throw light upon his relativistic conception of God l : (1) " Eor man is truly God, and God truly man " (2) " Whereas who holdeth not God as such an inner posses- sion, but with every means must fetch Him from without, either in fhta fM"S or in that, where he seeketh Him insufficiently, with every manner of deeds, people or places ; verily such, a man hath Hi not, and easily something cpmeth to trouble him. And it is not only evil company which troubleth him, but also the good, not only the street, but also the church, not only evil words and deeds, but even the good. For the hinderance lieth within him- i Von den Hindernissen an wahrer Geistiichkeit. H. Btittner, Meister Eckehart's Schrifien und Prtdigten, vol. ii, 185. (Diederichs, Jena 1909) 304 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY self : in him God hath not yet become the world. Were He that to him, then would he feel at ease in all places, and secure with all people, always possessing God." 1 This passage is of especial psychological interest, for it shows a trait of the primitive idea of God which we sketched above. " With every means fetching God from without " is synonymous with the primitive view that the tondi* is to be procured from without. With Eckehart, of course, it may be merely a figure of speech, through which the original meaning still glimmers. In any case Eckehart clearly understands God as a psychological value. This is proved by the following sentence : "Who fetcheth God from without, troubled is he by objects." For, when God is without, He is necessarily projected into the object, whereby the object acquires an excessive valuation. But whenever this is the case, the object also gains a supreme influence over the subject, holding him in a certain slavish dependence. Eckehart is evidently referring to this familiar subjection to the object, which makes the world appear in the rdle of God, i.e. as an absolutely determining factor. Hence for such a one "God has not yet become the world ", says Eckehart, since for him the world has taken the place of God. Such a man has not succeeded in detaching and introverting the surplus value from the object, thus converting it into an inner possession. Were he to possess it in himself he would have God (this same value) continually as object or world, whereby God would become the world. In the same portion Eckehart says : " Whosoever is right in his feeling findeth things fitting in all places and with all people, whereas he that is wrong findeth nothing right wherever or with whom he may be. For a man of right feeling hath God with him." A * GeisUiche Untirwtisung, 4. (Bttttner, vol. ii, p. 8) a The libido-concept of the Bataks. Warnecke, Die Religion de* Batak (Leipzig 1909}- Tondi is the name for the magic force around Vrhich everything turns, as it were. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 305 man who has this value in himself is everywhere well- disposed ; he is not dependent upon objects, *. he is not for ever needing and hoping from the object, what he himself lacks. It should be sufficiently evident from these considera- tions that, for Eckehart, God is a psychological, or more accurately a psycho-dynamic^ state. (3) " Again must ye understand the soul as the Kingdom of God. For the soul is of like nature with Divinity. All that was here spoken of God's Kingdom, so far as God Himself is thig Kingdom, may be truly said in like manner of the soul. All things came to pass through Him, saith St John. This must be understood of the soul, since the soul is the All. Such it is, as an image of God. But as such is it also the Kingdom of God. So deeply, saith one master, is God in the soul, that His whole Divine nature resteth upon it. That God is in the soul is an higher estate than that the soul is in God : when the soul is in God, it is not blessed therein, but blessed indeed is the soul which God inhabits. Of this be ye certain: God is Himself blessed in the soul I" The soul, that ambiguous and variously - interpreted concept, corresponds historically with a psychological content to which a certain . independence must belong within the limits of consciousness. For, if this were not the case, man would never have arrived at the notion of ascribing an independent nature to the soul, as though it were an objectively discernible thing. Like every auto- nomous complex, it must be a content to which spontaneity, and hence a partial unconsciousness, necessarily belongs. The primitive, as we know, usually possesses several souls, *>. several autonomous complexes with a considerable degree of independence, which gives them the appearance of having a separate existence (as in certain mental dis- orders.) Ascending to the higher human levels, we find the number of souls decreasing, until the highest level of culture shows us the soul quite dispersed in the conscious- ness of all psychic activities, and only granted a further L 306 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY existence as a term for the totality of psychic processes. This absorption of the soul into consciousness is just as much a characteristic of Eastern as it is of Western culture. In Buddhism everything is dissolved into con- sciousness ; even the Samskaras, the unconscious con- structive forces, must be possessed and transformed through religious self-development. To this quite universal historic development of the soul-concept the view of analytical psychology stands definitely opposed, since the analytical idea of the soul does not coincide with the totality of the psychic functions. On the one hand, we define the soul as the relation to the unconscious ; while, on the other, it is a personification of unconscious contents. From the stand- point of culture, it may seem deplorable that personifica- tions of unconscious contents still exist, just as an educated and differentiated consciousness might well lament the existence of contents that are still unconscious. Since, however, analytical psychology is concerned with man as he is, and not with the hypothetical man which certain views would like to make him, we have to admit that those same phenomena which persuade the primitive to speak of * souls', are in fact constantly happening, just as there are still innumerable people among civilized European nations who believe in ghosts. In spite of our carefully wrought theory affirming the * unity of the self, according to which autonomous complexes cannot exist, Nature does not appear in the least concerned about such intelligent notions. If we regard the 'soul' as a personification of uncon scious contents, so God, according to our previous defini- tion, is also an unconscious content a personification, in so far as He is personally conceived, an image or expres- sion, when regarded as purely or chiefly dynamic. God, therefore, is essentially the same as the soul, in so far as It is regarded as the personification of unconscious contents. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 307 Hence Meister Eckeharf s conception is purely psycho- logical. So long as the soul, as he says, is only in God, it is not blessed. If by 'blessedness' one understands an especially intense and harmonious vital condition, such a state, according to Eckehart, cannot exist, so long as the dynamis which is termed God, *>. the libido, is con- cealed in objects. For, as long as the chief value or God (after Eckehart) does not reside in the soul, power is without, and therefore in objects. God, *.*. the chief value, must be withdrawn from objects and brought into the soul, which signifies a * higher estate* and for God 'blessedness'. Psychologically, this means: that the libido appertaining to God, ie. the projected over-value, becomes recognized as projection ; x through such recogni- tion objects fade in significance, whereby the surplus value is accredited to the individuality, giving rise to an inten- sified vital feeling, , a new potential. God, zl*. the highest intensity of life, then resides in the soul, in the unconscious. But this does not mean that God becomes completely unconscious, in the sense that the idea of Him also vanishes from consciousness. It is as though the chief value were shifted elsewhere, so that it is now found within and not without Objects are no longer auto* nomous factors, but God has become an autonomous psychological complex. But an autonomous complex is always only partially conscious, since it is only con- ditionally associated with the ego, &: never to such an extent that the ego could wholly embrace it, in which case it would no longer be autonomous. From this moment the over-valued object is no longer the determin- ing factor, but the unconscious. The determining ixfcu- * The recognition of something as a projection must never be under- stood as a purely intellectual process. Intellectual cognition dis- solves a projection only when it is already ripe for dissolution. To withdraw libido from a projection that is not matured is not possible by means of intellectual judgment and will. 308 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY ences now proceed from the unconscious, *.*. one feels and knows them as coming from the unconscious, a knowledge which produces a " unity of being" (Eckehart), i.e. a relation between conscious and unconscious, in which of course the unconscious predominates. We should now ask ourselves, whence comes this * blessedness * or wonder of love x ? (Ananda, as the Indians call the state of Brahman). In this State the superior value lies in the unconscious, involving a fall of potential in the conscious, which means to say that the unconscious appears as the determining factor, while the self of the reality-consciousness practically disappears. This state is strongly reminiscent of the state of the child on the one hand, and of the primitive on the other, who likewise is immensely under the influence of the unconscious One might conclusively say that the restoration of the earlier paradisiacal state is the cause of this blessedness. But we have still to understand why this original state is so peculiarly blissful. The feeling of bliss accompanies all those moments which have the character of flowing life, moments, therefore, or states, when what was dammed up can freely flow, when we have longer to satisfy this or that condition or seek around with conscious effort in order to find a way or effect a result We have all known situations or moods ' when it goes of itself, when there is no longer any need to manufacture all sorts of wearisome conditions by which joy or pleasure might be stimulated. The age of childhood is the unforgettable token of this joy, which, undismayed by things without, streams all-embracing from within. ' Childlikeness ' is therefore a symbol for the unique inner condition which accom- panies blessedness. To be 'like unto a child 1 means to possess a treasury of constantly accessible libido. The i William Blake, the English mystic, says : " Energy is eternal delight ". Poetical Works. Vol. i, p. 240. (London 1906) THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 309 libido of the child flows into things ; in this way he gains the world, then by degrees loses himself in the world (to use the language of religion) through a gradual over- valuation of things. Whence arises the dependence upon things, entailing the necessity of sacrifice, *. the drawing away of libido, the severance of ties. This is the way by which the intuitive doctrine of the religious system attempts to re-assemble the wasted energy; indeed, this harvesting-process is actually represented in its symbols. The overvaluation of the object, as contrasted with the inferiority of the subject, results in a retrogressive current which would bring the libido quite naturally back to the subject, were it not for the obstructing power of consciousness. Everywhere with the primitives we find religious practice harmonizing with Nature, since the primitive is able to follow his instinct without difficulty, first in one direction and then in another. The practice of religion enables him to recreate the needful magic force, or to recover the soul that was lost during the night. The objective of the great religions is contained in the injunction c not of this world 1 , which suggests the inward subjective movement of the libido into the un- conscious. The general withdrawing and introversion of the libido creates an unconscious libido -concentration, which is symbolized as a 'treasure', as in the Parables of the "costly pearl" and the "treasure in the field". Eckehart also uses the latter allegory, which he interprets in the following way : " The Kingdom of Heaven is like unto a treasure which is hid in a field, saith Christ. This field is the soul wherein the treasure of the Kingdom of God lieth hidden. In the soul, therefore, are God and all creatures blessed" 1 This interpretation agrees with our psychological principles. The soul is the personifica- i Bttttner, l.c., voL ii, p. 195. 3io THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY tion of the unconscious, where lies the treasure, *.*. the libido which is submerged or absorbed in introversion. It is this sum of libido which is described as * the Kingdom of God '. This signifies a constant unity or reconciliation with God, a living in His Kingdom, *>. in that state in which a paramount libido accumulation lies in the un- conscious, by which the conscious life is determined. The libido concentrated in the unconscious comes from objects, from the world, whose former ascendancy it conditioned. God was then 'without', whereas now He works from 'within', as that hidden treasure which is conceived as 'God's Kingdom'. This clearly contains the idea that the libido assembled in the soul represents a relation to God (God's Kingdom). Now when Meister Eckehart reaches the conclusion that the soul is itself the Kingdom of God, he conceives it as a relation to God, and God as the power working within the soul and perceived by it Eckehart even calls the soul the image of God. Ethnological and historical ways of regarding the soul make it abundantly evident that it represents a 'content which belongs partly to the subject, but partly" also to the world of spirits, *.*. to the unconscious. Hence the soul has always an earthly as well as a rather ghostly quality. It is the same with the magic power, the divine force of the primitives, whereas the point of view of the higher cultural levels definitely severs God from man, finally exalting Him to the heights of pure ideality. But the soul never forgoes its middle station. Hence its claim to be regarded as a function between the conscious subject and these (to the subject) inaccessible depths of the unconscious. The determining force (God) which operates from these depths is reflected by the soul, & it creates symbols and images, and is itself only an image. Through these images it transveys the forces of the unconscious into the conscious; so that it is both THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 311 receiver and transmitter, a perceptive organ, in fact, for unconscious contents. What it perceives are symbols. But symbols are shaped energies, or forces, i.e. determining ideas whose spiritual value is just as great as their affective power. As Eckehart says, when the soul is in God, it is not yet blessed, t.e. when this function of perception is entirely flooded by the dynamis, it is by no means a happy state. But when God is in the soul, i.e. when the soul, as perception, comprehends the un- conscious and takes on the imaged form or symbol of it, this is a -truly happy state. We perceive and realize that the happy state is a creative state. (4) Meister Eckehart utters these noble words : " If one asketh me ' Wherefore do we pray, wherefore fast. wherefore do we perform all manner of good works, wherefore are we baptized, wherefore did God become Man ? ', I would answer ' For that God might be born in the soul and the soul again in God. Therefore is the Holy Script written. Therefore hath God created the whole world, that God might be born in the soul and the soul again in God. The innermost nature of all corn meaneth wheat, and of all metal, gold, and of all birth, man /' " Here Eckehart frankly affirms that God's existence is dependent upon the soul, and, in the same breath, that the soul is the birthplace of God. This latter sentence can readily be understood in the light of our previous reflec- tions. The function of perception (the soul) apprehends the contents of the unconscious, and as a creative function brings the dynamis to birth in symbolic form 1 . In the psychological sense the soul brings to birth images which the general rational consciousness assumes to be worthless. Such images are certainly worthless, in the sense that they cannot immediately be turned to account in the objective world. The artistic is the foremost possibility for their application, in so far as such a means of expression lies in i According to Eckehart the soul is just as much the comprehender^ as tfce comprehended. Bflttser, I.e., vol. i, p. 18$. 3 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY one's power l ; a second possibility is philosophical specula- lation*\ a third is the quasi-religious, which leads to heresies and the founding of sects; there remains the fourth possibility of employing the forces contained in the images in every form of licentiousness. The two latter forms were manifested in an especially marked form in the Encratitic (abstinent, ascetic) and the Antitactic (anarchical) schools of the Gnostics. As regards reality-adaptation, there is, however, a certain indirect value in raising these images to consciousness, since the relation to the real world is thereby cleared of an admixture of phantasy. But the images possess their chief value in assuring subjective happiness and well- being, irrespective of the changing aspects of outer conditions. To be adapted is certainly an ideal. Yet adaptation is not always possible ; there are situations in which the only correct adaptation is patient endurance. A passive adaptation of this kind is made possible and easy through a development of the phantasy-images. I used the word "development", because at first the phantasies are merely raw material of doubtful value. In order to reach that form which is likely to yield the maximum value, they must be submitted to treatment. This treatment is a matter of technique, which it is hardly appropriate to discuss here. For the sake of clearness I need only say that there are two possibilities of treatment : (i) the reductive, and (2) the synthetic, method. The former traces everything back to primitive instincts ; the latter develops a process from the given material which aims at the differentiation of the personality. The reductive and synthetic methods are mutually complementary, for reduction to instinct leads to reality, i Literary examples of this are: . T. A. Hoffman, Meyrink, Barlach (Der tote Tag) : on the higher levels, Spitteler, Goethe (Faust), Wagner. 4 Nietzsche in Zaraihustr a. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 3*3 in fact to the overvaluation of reality, and hence to the necessity of sacrifice. The synthetic method develops the symbolic phantasies resulting from the libido which is introverted through sacrifice. Out of this development a new attitude towards the world arises, whose very difference guarantees a new potential. This transition to a new attitude I have termed transcendent function l . In the regenerated attitude, the libido that was formerly submerged in the unconscious emerges in the form of positive achievement It corresponds with a newly-won and visible life, whose image is the symbol of the Divine birth. Conversely, when the libido is withdrawn from the outer object and sinks into the unconscious, the ' soul is born in God '. But because it is, essentially, a negative act as regards daily living, and a symbolic descent to the c deus absconditus' (concealed God), who possesses very different qualities from the God that shines by day, this is not a happy state (as Eckehart rightly observes) 2 . Eckehart speaks of the Divine birth as of an oft- recurring process. Actually the thing we are dealing with here is a psychological process, which unconsciously repeats itself almost continually, but of which we are only relatively conscious in its most extensive fluctuations. Goethe's idea of systole and diastole certainly hit the mark intuitively. It may have to do with a vital rhythm, or with fluctuations of vital forces, which as a rule take place unconsciously. This may also explain why the existing terminology for this process is either prevailingly religious or mythological, since such expressions or formulae are primarily related to unconscious psychological i Compare a previous handling of this theme in Psychology of Unconscious Processes (Jung). * Eckehart says : " Therefore do I torn back once more onto myself, there do I find the deepest places, deeper than hell itself ; but again my wretchedness nrgeth me hence : Lo, I cannot escape myself ! Herein will I plant myself and here will I remain/* Bfittner, I.e., i, 180. A 314 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY facts and not as scientific myth interpretation often asserts to phases of the moon and other planetary events. And because it is pre-eminently a question of unconscious processes, we have, scientifically, the greatest possible difficulty so far to extricate ourselves from the language of metaphor, as at least to attain the level of the figurative speech of other sciences. Veneration for the great natural mysteries, which religious language endeavours to express in symbols consecrated by their antiquity, significance, and beauty, will suffer no injury from the extension of psychology upon this terrain, to which science has hitherto found no access. We only shift the symbols back a little, thus shedding light upon a portion of their realm, but without embracing the error that by so doing we have created anything more than a new symbol for that same enigma which confronted all the ages before us. Our science is also a language of metaphor, but from the practical standpoint it succeeds better than the old mythological hypothesis, which expresses itself by concrete presentations, instead of, as we do, by conceptions. 5. The soul " through its being a creature first made God, so that formerly, until the soul was made something, there was none (God). A little while since I declared ' that God is God, of whom I am a cause.' That God is, He hath from the soul : that He is Godhead, hath He from Himself." (Bftttner, vol. i, p. 198) 6. " But God also becometh and passeth away." (Bftttner, vol. i, p. 147) 7. " Because all creatures proclaim Him, God becometh. While I still abode in the ground and bottom of the Godhead, in its flood and source, no man questioned me, whither I went or what I did : none was there who could have questioned me. In the moment I flowed forth all creatures proclaimed God. And why speak they not of the Godhead ? All that is in the Godhead, is One, and nothing can one say of it. Only God doeth something ; the Godhead doeth nothing, it hath nothing to do, and never hath it looked about for aught to do. God and God- head are different as doing and doing nothing." ..." When I again come home into God, I make nothing more in myself ; so thjs my breaking-through is much more excellent than my first THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 315 issue. For I the one verily raise aft creatures out of their own, into my perception, so that in me they also become the One 1 When I then go back into the ground and bottom of the God- head, into its flood and source, none asketh me whence do I come, or whither have I been : for none hath missed me. . . . Which meaneth God passeth away." (Buttner, vol. i, p. 148) As we see from these citations, Eckehart distinguishes between God and the Godhead ; the Godhead is the All ; neither knowing nor possessing Itself, whereas God appears as a function of the soul, just as the soul appears as a function of the Godhead. The Godhead is clearly the all-pervading creative power; psychologically, it is the generating, producing instinct, that neither knows nor possesses itself, comparable with Schopenhauer's concep- tion of the wilL But God appears as issuing forth from the Godhead and the soul The soul as creature "ex- presses" Him. He exists, in so far as the soul is distinguished from the unconscious, and in so far as it perceives the forces and contents of the unconscious ; he passes away, as soon as the soul is immersed in the " flood and source" of unconscious energy. Thus Eckehart says in another place : " As I came forth out of God, all things said ' There is a God I " That cannot now make me blessed, for therewith I conceive myself as creature. But in the breaking-through, when I will to stand free in the will of God, and also free of God's will, and all His works, even of God Himself then am I more than all creatures, then am I neither God nor creature : I am, what I was, and what I shall remain, now and evermore ! Then do I receive a push which brings me up above all the angels. In this push I am be- come so rich that God cannot be enough for me, even in all which as God He is, and in all His Divine works : for in *hfa breaking- through I receive what I and God have in common. Then I am what I was, then I neither increase nor diminish, for I am something unmoved which moveth all things. Here God findeth no more place in man, for here hath man conquered again through his poverty what eternally he hath been and ever will remain. Here is God taken into the spirit." 316 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY The "coming forth" signifies a becoming aware of the unconscious contents, and of unconscious energy in the form of an idea born of the soul. This is an act of conscious discrimination from the unconscious dynamis, a severance of the ego as subject, from God (i.e. the unconscious dynamis) as object In this way God "be- cometh". When, through the "breaking-through", i.e\ through a " cutting off" of the ego from the world, and through an identification of the ego with the motivating dynamis of the unconscious, this severance is once more resolved, God disappears as object and becomes the subject which is no longer distinguished from the ego, *>. the ego as a relatively late product of differentiation, becomes once more united with the mystic, dynamic, universal participation ("participation mystique" of the primitives). This is the immersion in the "flood and source". The numerous analogies with the ideas of the East are at once evident Writers more competent than myself have already fully elaborated them. But in the absence of direct influence this parallelism proves that Eckehart thinks from the depth of the collective psyche which is common to East and West. This common basis, for which no common historical background can be made answerable, is the primordial foundation of primitive mentality, with its primitive energic notion of God, in which the impelling dynamis has not yet crystallized into the abstract idea of God. This harking-back to primeval nature, this religiously organized regression to psychic conditions of early times, is common to all religions which are in the deepest sense living; commencing with the identification backward of the totem ceremonies of the Australian negro \ continuing down to the ecstasies of the Christian mystics of our own age and civilization. This retrogressive process re * Spencer and Gillen, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 317 establishes an original state or attitude, viz. the improb- ability of the identity with God, and, by virtue of this improbability, which has nevertheless become a supremely important experience, a new potential is produced the world is created anew, because the individual's attitude to the object has been regenerated. When speaking of the relativity of the symbol of God, it is a duty of the historical conscience also to mention that solitary poet who, as a tragic fate willed it, could find no relation to his own vision : Angelus Silesius 1 . What Meister Eckehart laboured to express with great effort of mind, and often in hardly intelligible language, Silesius sings in brief, touching, intimate verses, which reveal in their naive simplicity the satne relativity of God that Meister Eckehart had already conceived. The few verses I quote will speak for themselves : I know titxat without me God can no moment live ; Were I to die, then He No longer could survive. God cannot without me A single worm create ; Did I not share with Him Destruction were its fate. I am as great as God, And He is small like me ; He cannot be above, Nor I below Him be. In me is God a fixe And I in Him its glow ; In common is our life, Apart we cannot grow. God loves me more than Self My love doth give His weight, Whatever He gives to me I must reciprocate. He's God and man to me, To Him I'm both indeed ; His thirst I satisfy, He helps me in my need. This God, who feels for us, Is to us what we will ; And woe to us, if we Our part do not fulfil. God is whatever He is, I am what I must be ; If you know one, in sooth, You know both Him and me. I am not outside God, Nor leave I Him afar ; I am His grace and light, And He my guiding star. I am the vine, which He Doth plant and cherish most ; The fruit which grows from me Is God, the Holy Ghost. Johann Scheffler, mystic and doctor, 1624-77. 3i8 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY I am God's child, His son, To illuminate my God And He too is my child ; The sunshine I must be ; We are the two in one, My. beams must radiate Both son and father rn^t His calm and boundless sea. It would be ludicrous to assume that such thoughts as these, and those of Meister Eckehart, are nothing but the vain products of conscious speculation. Such thoughts are always significant historical phenomena, the yield of unconscious tides in the collective psyche. Thousands of other nameless ones are behind, standing with similar thoughts and feelings below the threshold of consciousness, ready to open the gates of a new age. In the boldness of these ideas speaks the imperturbable and immovable certainty of the unconscious mind, which will bring about with the finality of a natural law a spiritual transformation and renewal. With the Reformation the current reached the general surface of conscious life. The Reformation in a great measure did away with the Church as the inter- mediary and dispenser of salvation, and established once again the personal relation with God. This was the culminating point in the objectification of the idea of God, and from this point the concept of God again became increasingly subjective. The logical result of this sub- jectifying process is a splitting-up into sects, and its most extreme outcome is individualism, representing a new form of 'remoteness', whose immediate danger is submersion in the unconscious dynamis. The cult of the ' blonde beast' springs from this development, besides much else that distinguishes ours from other ages. But, whenever this rechute into instinct takes place, an ever growing resistance against the purely shapeless and chaotic character of sheer dynamis inevitably appears, the unquenchable need for form and law. The soul, which dives into the stream, must also create the symbol, which embraces, maintains, and expresses this energy. It is this process THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 319 in the collective psyche which is either felt or intuitively sensed by those poets and artists whose chief creative source is the collective unconscious (*'.*. perceptions of unconscious contents), and whose intellectual horizon is sufficiently wide to apprehend the main problems of the age, at least in their outer aspects. Spitteler's Prometheus marks a psychological turning- point : he depicts the falling asunder of the pairs of opposites which were formerly together. Prometheus the artist, the soul-server, disappears from human ken ; while human society in obedience to a soul-less moral routine is delivered over to Behemoth, the antagonistic, destructive outcome of an outlived ideal. At the right moment Pandora (the soul) creates the saving jewel in the uncon- scious, which, however, does not reach mankind because men fail to understand it The change for the better takes place only through the intervention of the Promethean tendency, which by virtue of its insight and understanding brings first a few, and then many, individuals to their senses. It can hardly be doubted that this work of Spitteler has its roots in the intimate life of its creator. But, if it consisted only in a poetic elaboration of this purely personal experience, it would to a large extent lack genfcral validity and permanence. Yet, because it is not merely personal but is largely concerned with the presentation of the collective problems of our time as personally experienced, it achieves universal validity. Its first appearance was none the less certain to encounter the apathy of contemporaries, for contemporaries are in the great majority only fitted to maintain and appraise the immediate present, thus helping to bring about that same fatal issue whose confusion the divining, creative mind had already sought to unravel. 320 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 5. The Nature of the Reconciling Symbol in Spitteler There still remains an important question to discuss : namely the character of this jewel or symbol of renewed life, which the poet divines as the vessel of joy and deliver- ance. We have compared a number of excerpts, which substantiate the " Divine " nature of the jewel. We find it more or less clearly stated that the symbol contains possibilities for new energic deliveries, i.e. the release of libido unconsciously bound. The symbol always says: In some such form as this will a new manifestation of life, a deliverance from the bondage and weariness of life, be found The libido which is freed from the un- conscious by means of the symbol is symbolized as a young or rejuvenated God ; in Christianity, for instance, Jehovah achieved a transformation into the loving Father, embracing an altogether higher and more spiritual morality. The motif of the God-renewal l is universal, and therefore presumably familiar. Referring to the redeeming power of the jewel, Pandora says : " But lo ! I have heard of a race of men, full of sorrow and deserving of pity ; therefore have I conceived a gift, with which, perchance, an thou grantest my petition, I may soothe and solace their many woes/' 2 The leaves of the tree which shelter the birth sing : " For here abideth presence, blessedness and grace." 8 Love and joy is the message of the " wonderchild ", the new symbol ; hence a sort of paradisiacal state. This is parallel with the message that heralded the birth of Christ, while the greeting by the Sun-goddess * and the miracle, wherein men at remote distances became 'good* and blessed at the moment of the birth, 6 are attributes of the birth of Buddha. Concerning the 'Divine blessing* I wish to emphasize only this one significant passage: i Cf . Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious. Spitteler, Prometheus and Epimetheus, p. 108. Ibid., p. 127. Ibid., p. 132. ffid. f p. 129. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 321 " Those images return again to every man, whose rainbow tinted, dream -like fabric once painted his childhood's future" 1 . This is clearly a statement that childhood's phantasies tend to go to fulfilment, i.e. that these images are not lost, but come again in ripe manhood and should be fulfilled. Old Kule in Barlach's Der tote Tag* says : " When I lay o' nights, and the pillows of darkness weigh me down, at times there presses about me a light that resounds, visible to mine eyes and audible to mine ears ; and there about my bed stand the lovely forms of a better future. Stiff are they yet, but of radiant beauty, still sleeping but he who shall awaken them would make for the world a fairer face. A hero would he be who could do it." " What would those hearts be like which then might beat ! Quite other hearts, thrilling so differently from those that beat to-day." (Of the images) " They stand not in the sun and nowhere are they lit by the sun. But they shall and must (come) once out of the night. That would be the master- work, to bring them up into the Sun ; there would they live." Epimetheus also yearns for the image, the jewel ; in his speech on the statue of Heracles (the hero !) he says : " This is the meaning of the image, and with the under- standing of it our sole achievement shall be, that we seize and experience the opportunity so that a jewel shall ripen above our head, a jewel that we must win" * So too when the jewel, declined by Epimetheus, is brought to the priests, these sing in just the same strain as did Epimetheus in his former craving for the jewel: "Oh come, oh God with Thy grace", only to repudiate and revile in the very next instant the heavenly jewel that is offered them. The beginning of the hymn sung by the priests is not difficult to recognize as the Protestant hymn : " Living Spirit once again Come Thou true eternal God I Nor Thy power descend in vain, Make us ever Thine abode ; So shall spirit, joy and light Dwell in us, where all was night. i Spitteler, Lc., p. 128. s Paul Cassirer, Berlin 1912, pp. 16 ff. * Spitteler, l.c., p. 138- 3*a THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY Spirit Thou of strength and power Thou new Spirit God hath given Aid -as in temptation's hour Train and perfect us for heaven " etc. This hymn is a perfect parallel with our foregoing argu* ment It wholly corresponds with the rationalistic nature of Epimethean creatures that the same priests that sing this hymn should reject the new spirit of life, the newly- created symbol. Reason must always seek the solution upon rational, sequential, logical ways, in which it is certainly justified in all normal situations and problems ; but in the greatest and really decisive questions the reason proves inadequate. It is incapable of creating the image, the symbol ; for the symbol is irrational. When the rational way has become a cul de sac which is its inevitable and constant tendency then, from the side where one least expects it, the solution comes. (" What good thing cometh out of Nazareth ? " ) Such, for instance, is the psychological law underlying the Messianic prophecies. The prophecies themselves are projections of the unconscious, which always foreshadows the future event Because the solution is irra- tional, the appearance of the Redeemer is associated with an impossible, . irrational condition, the pregnancy of the Virgin (Isatak, 7, 14). This prophecy, like many another, has impossible conditions attaching to it ; as for instance : " Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him." (Macbeth. IV, i) The birth of the Saviour, /.*. the rise of the symbol, happens in that very place where one is least expecting it, whence indeed a solution is of all things the most improbable. Thus Isaiah says (53, i) : " Who hath believed our report ? And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? For he grew up before Him as a tender plant, And as a root out of the dry ground : THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 323 He hath no form nor comeliness ; And when we shall see him, There is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men ; A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief : And we hid as it were our faces from hfrn ; He was despised and we esteemed him not." Not only does the redeeming power spring where nothing is expected, but it also reveals itself, as this passage shows, in a form which to the Epimethean judgment contains no special value. In Spitteler's description of the symbol's rejection there can hardly have been any conscious reference to the Biblical model, or one would certainly be able to trace it in his words. It is much more likely that he too created from those same depths, whence prophets and creative minds call up the redeeming symbol. The appearance of the Saviour signifies a reconciliation of the opposites : 11 The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, And the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; And the calf and the young lion and the failing together, And a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed ; Their young ones shall lie down together : And the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, And the weaned child shall put his hand on the cocka- trice' den." Isaiah, n, 6 ff. The nature of the redeeming symbol is that of a child (the " wonderehild " of Spitteler), i.e. child-likeness or an attitude which assumes nothing is of the very nature of the symbol and its function. This "childlike" attitude carries with it the condition eo ipso that, in place of self-will and rational purposiveness, another guiding principle shall have effect whose Divinity is synonymous with 'superior power'. The guiding principle is of an irrational nature, 3 2 4 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY wherefore it appears in a miraculous guise. Isaiah gives this character very beautifully : " For unto us a child is born, Unto us a son is given ; And the government shall be upon his shoulder : And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God. The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." Isaiah, 9, 5- These conditions give the essential qualities of the redeem- ing symbol, which we have already established above. The criterion of the Divine * effect is the irresistible force of the unconscious impulse. The hero is always the figure endowed with magical power, who makes the impossible possible. The symbol is the middle way, upon which the opposites unite towards a new move- ment, a water-course that pours forth fertility after long drought The tension that precedes the release is likened to a pregnancy : " Like as a woman with child, That draweth near the time of her delivery, Is in pain, and crieth out in her pangs ; So have we been in Thy sight, O Lord. We have been with child, we have been in pain, We have as it were brought forth wind ; We have not wrought any deliverance in the earth ; Neither have the inhabitants of the world fallen. Thy dead shall live, my dead bodies shall arise." Isaiah, 26, 17 flf. In the act of redemption, what was inanimate and dead comes to life, t.e* psychologically, those functions which have lain fallow and unfertile, psychic elements that were unused, repressed, despised, under-valued, etc., suddenly burst forth and begin to live. It is precisely the less- valued function, whose life was threatened with extinction by the differentiated function, that continues \ This motif recurs in the New Testament idea of the 1 Compare my discussion on the Schiller letters. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 325 (restoration for all), or reintegration \ which is a higher evolutionary form of that world-wide version of the hero-myth in which the hero, on his exit from the belly of the whale, brings with him not only his parents but the whole company .of those previously swallowed by the monster what Frobenius calls the "universal hatching out" 2 . This association with the hero-myth is also con- firmed by Isaiah in the two verses : " In that day the Lord With His sore and great and strong sword Shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent, Even leviathan that crooked serpent ; And He shall slay the dragon that is in the sea." Isaiah, 27, i. With the birth of the symbol, the regression of the libido into the unconscious ceases. Regression is converted into progression, damming-up gives place to flowing; where- upon the absorbing power of the primeval is broken. Thus Kule says in Barlach's drama Der tote Tag : " And there about my bed stand the lovely forms of a better future. Stiff are they yet, but of radiant beauty, still sleeping but he who shall awaken them would make for the world a fairer face. A hero would he be who could do it. Mother : An heroic life in misery and dire need ! Kule : But perchance there might be one i Mother: He first must bury his mother." I have abundantly illustrated the motif of the * mother- dragon" in an earlier work 8 , so I may spare myself a repetition of it here. The dawn of new life and fruitful- ness in the direction where nothing could be expected is also sung by Isaiah : " Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, And the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped, Then shall the lame in an leap as an hart, And the tongue of the dumb sing : i Epistle to the Romans, 8, 19. * Frobemus, Das Zeitaltor des Sonnengottes. Psychology of the Unconscious. We find in Spitteler a parallel with the slaughter of Leviathan in the overpowering of Behemoth* 3*6 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY For in the wilderness shall waters break out. And streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall become a pool, And the thirsty land springs of water : In the habitation of jackals, where each lay, Shall be grass with reeds and rushes. And an highway shall be there, and a way, And it shall be called The way of holiness ; The unclean shall not pass over it ; But it shall be for those : The wayfaring men, yea fools, Shall not go astray therein." Isaiah, 35, 5 ff. The redeeming symbol is a highway, a way upon which life can move forward without torment and compulsion. Holderlin says in Patmos : f Near is God and hard to seize. But wherever danger lurks Groweth the thing that saves." That sounds as though the nearness of God were a danger, i.e. as though the concentration of libido in the unconscious were a danger to the conscious life. And this is actually the case; for the more the libido is invested or, more accurately, invests itself in the unconscious, the greater becomes the influence, or effective potentiality, of the unconscious; which means that all the rejected, thrown aside, outlived function possibilities which for generations have been entirely lost, become reanimated and begin to exercise an increasing influence upon consciousness, not- withstanding often desperate resistance on the part of conscious insight The saving factor is the symbol, which is able to reconcile the conscious with the unconscious and embrace them both. While the consciously disposable libido becomes gradually used up in the differentiated function, and is only restored again with constantly increasing difficulty, and while the symptoms of inner discord multiply, there is an ever growing danger of a flooding and disintegration THE TYPE-PROBLEM EST POETRY 327 by unconscious contents ; but all the time the symbol is developing which is fitted to resolve the conflict But the symbol is so intimately bound up with the dangerous and threatening that it may either be confounded with it, or its appearance may actually call forth the evil and destructive. In every instance the appearance of the redeeming factor is closely linked up with ruin and devas- tation. If the old were not ripe for death, nothing new would appear ; and, if the old were not injuriously blocking the way for the new, it could not and need not be rooted out This natural psychological association of the opposites is also found in Isaiah where (7, 16 ff. ; 7, 14) we find that a virgin is to bear a son, who shall be called Immanuel. Immanuel significantly means 'God with us', i.e. union with the latent dynamis of the unconscious, which is assured in the redeeming symbol. In the verses which immediately follow, we see what this reconciliation portends. " For before the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, The land whose two kings thou abhorrest shall be forsaken." 8, i : " Moreover the Lord said unto me : ' Take thee a great roll, and write in it with a man's pen, Concerning Maher-shalal- hasM>az.' (' Rob soon. Hasten booty V 8, 3 : " And I went unto the prophetess ; and she conceived, and bare a son. Then said the Lord to me : * Call his name Maher-shalaZ'hash-baz. For before the child shall have know- ledge to cry My father, and My mother, the riches of Damascus and the spoil of Samaria shall be taken away before the king of Assyria/" 8, 6 : " Forasmuch as this people refuseth the waters of Shiloah that go softly Behold, the Lord bringeth up upon them the waters of the River, strong and many, even the king of Assyria and all his glory ; and he shall come up over all his channels, and go over all his banks ; and he shall pass through Judah ; he shall overflow and go over, he shall reach, even to the neck ; and the stretching out of his wings shall fill the breadth land, O Immanuel." 328 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY I have already pointed out in my book Psychology of the Unconscious that the birth of the God is threatened by the dragon, the danger of inundation, and child-murder. Psychologically, this means that the latent dynamis may burst forth and overwhelm consciousness. For Isaiah this peril is the enemy-king, who rules a hostile and powerful realm. The problem for Isaiah, of course, is not psycho- logical, but concrete, on account of his complete projection. With Spitteler, on the contrary, the problem is already very psychological, and, therefore, detached from the concrete object ; it is nevertheless expressed in forms that closely resemble those in Isaiah^ although it is hardly necessary to assume a conscious derivation. The birth of the deliverer is equivalent to a great catastrophe, since a new and powerful life issues forth just where no life or force or new development was anticipated. It streams forth out of the unconscious, i.e. from that part of the psyche which, whether we desire it or not, is unknown and therefore treated as nothing by all rationalists. From this discredited and rejected region comes the new tributary of energy, the revivification of life. But what is this discredited and despised region? It is the sum of all those psychic contents which are repressed on account of their incompatibility with conscious values, hence the ugly, immoral, wrong, irrelevant, useless, etc. ; which means everything that at one time appeared so to the individual in question. Now herein lies the danger that the very force with which these things re- appear, as well as their new and wonderful brilliance, may so intrigue the individual that he either forgets or repudiates all former values. What he formerly despised is now a supreme principle, and what was formerly truth now becomes error- This reversal of values is tantamount to a destruction of previously accepted values ; hence it resembles the devastation of a country by floods. THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 329 Thus, with Spitteler, Pandora's heavenly gift brings evil both to the country and to man. Just as, in the classical saga, diseases streamed from Pandora's box, to flood and ravage the land, a similar evil is caused by the jewel. To grasp this, we must first probe into the nature of this symbol. The first to find the symbol are the peasants, as the shepherds are the first to greet the Saviour. They turn it about in their hands, first this way then* that, "until at length they are quite dumb- founded by its strange, immoral unlawful appearance". When they brought it to the king, and he, to prove it, showed it to the conscience, demanding its Yea or Nay about it, stricken with terror it sprang pell-mell from the wardrobe to the floor, where it ran and hid itself under the bed with "impossible suspicions". Like a fleeing crab "staring with venomous eyes and malevolently brandishing its twisted claws, the conscience peered from under the bed, and it came to pass that whenever Epimetheus nearer pushed the image, the further did the other recoil with gesticulations of disgust And thus all silent it crouched, and never a word, nay not a syllable, did it utter, however much the king might beg and entreat and cajole with every manner of speech/ 1 To the conscience evidently the new symbol was acutely unsympathetic. The king, therefore, bade the peasants bear the jewel to the priests. " But hardly had Hiphil-Hophal (the high-priest) glanced at the face of the image than, he began to shudder and sicken, and, raising his arms as though to guard his forehead from a blow, he cried and shouted : ' Away with *hi mockery, for in it is something opposed to God; moreover carnal is its heart and insolence fashes from its eyes/ " Thereupon the peasants brought the jewel to the academy ; but the professors of the university found that the image lacked "feeling and soul"; moreover, "it 330 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY wanted in sincerity, and had in general no guiding thought". Finally the goldsmith found the jewel to be spurious and of common metal. On the market-place, where the peasants wished to get rid of the image, the police descended upon it At sight of the image the guardians of the law exclaimed : " Dwells there no heart in your body and shelters no con- science in your soul, that ye dare thus openly before all eyes to expose this sheer, wanton, shameless nakedness ? . . . And now away with ye in haste ! and woe upon you if by any chance the sight of it hath polluted our stainless children and unsullied wives." The symbol is characterized as strange, immoral, unlawful, opposed to moral sense, antagonizing our feeling and idea of the spiritual, as well as our conception of the 'Divine 1 ; it appeals to sensuality, is shameless and liable to become a serious danger to public morality by the stimulation of sexual phantasies. Such attributes define an essence which is in frank opposition to our moral values ; but it is also opposed to our aesthetic judgment, since it lacks the higher feeling-values; and finally the absence of a "guiding thought " suggests an irrationality of its intellectual content The verdict " opposed to God " might also be rendered * anti-Christian ', since this history is localized neither in remote antiquity nor in China. This symbol, then, by reason of all its attributes, is a representative of the inferior function, hence of unrecog- nized psychic contents. It is obvious that the image represents though it is nowhere stated a naked human figure, in fact, living form'. This form expresses com- plete freedom, which means to be just as one is as also the duty, to be just as one is : it accordingly stands for the highest possible attainment of aesthetic as well as moral beauty. It signifies man as he might be through THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 331 Nature and not through some artificially-prepared, ideal form. Such an image, presented to the eyes of a man as he is at present, can have no other effect than to release in him all that has lain bound in slumber and has not shared in life. If by chance he be only partly civilized, and still more than half barbarian, all his barbarism will be aroused at such a vision. For a man's hatred is always concentrated upon that which makes him conscious of his bad qualities. Hence the jewel's fate was sealed at the moment of its appearance in the world. The dumb shepherd-lad who first found it is half cudgelled to death by the enraged peasants ; then the peasants " hurl " the jewel upon the road. Thus the redeeming symbol ends its brief but typical course. The association with the Christian passion-theme is unmistakable. The redeem- ing nature of the jewel is also revealed in the fact that it appears only once in a thousand years; it is a rare occurrence, this * flowering of the treasure ", this appear- ance of a Saviour, a Saoshyant, or a Buddha. The end of the jewel's career is mysterious : it falls into the hands of a wandering Jew. " No Jew of this world was it, and strange to us beyond measure seemed his raiment" 1 . This peculiar Jew can only be Ahasuerus, who did not accept the actual Redeemer, and here again steals, as it were, the redeeming-image. The Ahasuerus legend is a medieval Christian saga, in which form it cannot be dated back earlier than the beginning of the thirteenth century 2 . Psychologically, it springs from an element of the personality or a sum of libido which finds no application in the Christian attitude to life and the world, and is accordingly repressed. The Jews were always a symbol for this repressed portion, which accounts for the medieval delirium of persecution against the Jews. The ritual- * Spittder, U. t p. 163. E. Konig, Ahasvtr (1907) 332 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY murder notion contains the idea of the rejection of the Redeemer in an acute form, for one sees the mote in one's own eye as a beam in the eye of one's brother. The ritual-murder idea also plays a part in the Spitteler story, since the Jew steals the wonder-child sent from Heaven. This idea is a mythological projection of the unconscious perception that the redeeming effect is constantly being frustrated by the presence of an unredeemed element in the unconscious. This unredeemed, undomesticated, un- trained, or barbaric portion, which can only be held on a chain and not yet allowed to run free, is projected upon those who have never accepted Christianity. In reality, of course, it is an element in ourselves, which has always contrived to escape the Christian process of domestication. An unconscious perception of this resistant element, whose existence one would like to disavow, is certainly present hence the projection. Restlessness is a concrete expression of this unredeemed state. The unredeemed element at once monopolizes the new light and the energy of the new symbol. This is another way of expressing the same thing that we have already indicated above when describing the effect of the symbol upon the collective psyche. The symbol intrigues all the repressed and unrecognised contents, as instanced by the 'guardians of the market-place'; similarly with Hiphil-Hophal, who, because of his unconscious resistance against his own religion, immediately brings out and emphasizes the ungodliness and sensuality of the new symbol. The affect displayed in the rejection corresponds with the amount of repressed libido. It is in the moral degradation of the pure gift of heaven in the sultry phantasy-loom of th^se minds that the ritual-murder is accomplished. The appear- ance of the symbol has, nevertheless, had its benign effect Although not accepted in its pure form, it was greedily devoured by the archaic, undifferentiated forces, THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY 333 wherein conscious morality and aesthetic values continued to co-operate. Here the enantiodromia begins, the con- version of the hitherto valued into the worthless, the changing of the former good into the bad. The realm of the good, whose king is Epimetheus, had lived in age-long enmity with the kingdom of Behemoth. Behemoth and Leviathan l are the two familiar monsters of God from the book of Job ; they are the symbolical expression of His force and power. As crude animal symbols they portray psychologically allied forces in human nature 2 . Thus Jehovah says: (Job, XL, 15 flf.) " Behold now Behemoth, which I made with thee ; Lo now, his strength is in his loins, And his force is in the muscles of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar : And the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. 1 He is the beginning of the ways of God." One must read these words attentively : this force is " the beginning of the ways of God ", i.e. of Jehovah, the Jewish God, who in the New Testament lays aside this form. There He is no longer the Nature-God. This means, psychologically, that this crude instinctive side of the libido accumulated in the unconscious is permanently held under in the Christian attitude ; thus the divine half of the libido is repressed, or written down to man's debit account, and in the last resort is assigned to the domain of the devil Hence, when the unconscious force begins to well up, when "the ways of God" begin, God comes in the shape of Behemoth 4 . One might say with equal truth that God presents i Spitteler, l.c. t p. 179. * Cf . Psych, of the Unconscious, p. 70. * The Vulgate actually reads : nervi testiculorum ejus pexplexi sunt. Spitteler makes Astarte the daughter of Behemoth signi- ficantly enough. 4 Chie may compare this with Flouraoy: Una mystique modem* (Arch, de Psych., xv, 1915)- 334 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY himself in the Devil's shape. But these moral valuations are optical delusions : the force of life is beyond the moral judgment Meister Eckehart says : " Said I therefore God is good : it is not true, I am good, God is not good I I go still farther : I am better than God 1 For only what is good can be better, and only what can become better can become the best. God is not goodtherefore can He not be better ; and, because not better, neither can He be best. Far away from God are these three conditions * good ', ' better ', ' best '. He standeth above them alL" Bftttner, vol. i, p. 165 The immediate effect of the redeeming symbol is the reconciliation of the pairs of opposites: thus the ideal realm of Epimetheus becomes reconciled with the kingdom of Behemoth, i.e. moral consciousness enters into a dangerous alliance with the unconscious contents, together with the libido belonging to, or identical withj these contents* Now the children of God have been entrusted to the care of Epimetheus, namely those highest Goods of mankind, without which man is a mere animal. Through the reconciliation with his own unconscious opposite, the menace of disaster, flooding and devastation descend upon him, i.e. the values of the conscious are liable to become swamped in the energic values of the unconscious. If that image of natural beauty and morality had been really accepted and valued, instead of serving, merely by virtue of its innocent naturalness, as an incitement to all the filthiness hiding in the background of our "moral" civilization, then, notwithstanding the pact with Behemoth, the Divine children would never have been jeopardized, for Epimetheus would always have been able to discriminate between the valuable and the worthless. But, because the symbol appears inacceptable to our one-sided, rationalistic and therefore deformed, mentality, every standard of value fails. When, in spite of all, the reconciliation of the pairs of opposites transpires as a; THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY .335 force majeure, the danger of inundation and disintegration necessarily follows, and in a peculiarly characteristic way, since the dangerous counter-tendencies get smuggled in under the cloak of c correct ideas'. Even the evil and pernicious can be rationalized and made aesthetic. Thus, one after another, the Divine children are handed over to Behemoth, i.e. conscious values are exchanged for sheer impulsiveness and stupidity* Conscious values are greedily devoured by crude and barbarous tendencies which were hitherto unconscious; thus Behemoth and Leviathan erect an invisible whale (the unconscious) as symbolizing their principle, while the corresponding symbol of the Epimethean kingdom is the bird. The whale, as denizen of the sea, is the universal symbol of the devouring unconscious 1 . The bird, as a citizen of the luminous kingdom of the air, is a symbol of conscious thought; it also symbolizes the ideal (wings) and the Holy Spirit The final extinction of Good is prevented by the intervention of Prometheus. He rescues Messias, the last of the sons of God, out of the power of his enemy. Messias becomes the heir to the Divine kingdom, while Prometheus and Epimetheus, the personifications of the severed opposites, become united in the seclusion of their "native valley". Both are relieved of sovereignty Epimetheus, because he was forced to forgo it, and Prometheus, because he never strove for it. Which means, m psychological terms, that introversion and extraversion cease to dominate as one-sided lines of direction, and consequently the psychic dissociation also ceases. In their stead a new function appears, symbolically represented by a child named Messias, who had long lain asleep. Messias is the mediator, the symbol of the new attitude that shall reconcile the opposites. He is a child, a boy, i Abundant examples of this are to be found in Psychology cj th* 336 THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN POETRY the 'puer aeternus' of the immemorial prototype, heralding by his youth the resurrection and rebirth of what was lost (Apokatastasis). That which Pandora brought to earth as an image, and being rejected by men became the cause of their undoing, is fulfilled in Messias. This association of symbols corresponds with a frequent ex- perience in the practice of analytical psychology: a symbol emerging in dreams is rejected for the very reasons detailed above, and even affects a counter-reaction, which corresponds with the invasion of Behemoth. The result of this conflict is a simplification of the personality, based upon individual characteristics which have been present since birth; this reintegration ensures the con- nection of the matured personality with the energy- sources of childhood. In this transition, as Spitteler shows, there is a great danger that, instead of the symbol, the archaic instincts thereby awakened shall become rationalistically accepted and sheltered among established views. The English mystic William Blake says 1 : "There are two classes of men: the prolific* and the devouring*. Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two." With these words of Blake, which are a simple epitome of the fundamental ideas of Spitteler and my elaborations thereon, I would like to close this chapter. If I have unduly expanded it, this came about, as in the discussion of the Schiller letters, through a wish to do justice to the profusion of ideas Spitteler awakens in his Prometheus and Epimttheus. I have, as far as possible, confined myself to the essentials ; indeed, I have deliberately omitted a whole group of problems which would daim attention in a full elaboration of this material i Poetical Works, i, p. 249. * The prolific = the fruitful, who brings forth out of hhftself. * The devonring=the man who swallows up and takes into himseli CHAPTER VI THE TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY WE now come to the work of a psychiatrist who from the bewildering multiplicity of so-called psychopathic states attempted to bring two definite types into relief. This very extensive group embraces all those psychopathic border-line states which can no longer be included under the heading of the psychoses proper hence all the neuroses and degenerative states, e.g. intellectual, moral, affective, and such like psychic inferiorities. This attempt was made in 1902 by Otto Gross, who published a theoretical study entitled Die zerebrale Sekun- darfunkttoHy and it was the basic hypothesis of this work that prompted him to the conception of two psychological types 1 . Although the empirical material treated by Gross is taken from the domain of psychic inferiority, this is no reason why the points of view thus obtained should not be transferred to the wider regions of normal psychology; since the unbalanced psychic state affords the investigator a very favourable opportunity of gaining an almost exaggeratedly distinct view of certain psychic phenomena, which are often only dimly perceptible within the boundaries of the normal. Occasionally the abnormal condition has the effect of a magnifying glass. As we shall soon see, Gross himself, in his final chapter, also extends his conclusions to the wider terrain. By " secondary function " Gross understands a cerebral * Gross also gives a revised though essentially unaltered presenta- tion of the types in his book Ueber psychopalhologische Minderwertig- keiten, pp. 27 ff. (Branmuller, Vienna 1909) W M 338 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY cell-process that comes into action after the "primary function " has already taken place. The primary function would correspond to the actual performance of the cells, viz. the production of a positive psychic process, let us say, a representation. This performance represents an energic process, presumably, the release of a chemical tension, *'/. a chemical decomposition. In the wake of this sudden discharge, termed by Gross the primary function, the secondary function begins. It represents, therefore, a restitution, a rebuilding by means of assimila- tion. This function will occupy a shorter or longer interval in proportion to the intensity of the preceding expenditure of energy. During such time the cell, as compared with its formcir condition, is in an altered state ; viz. a state of stimulation, which cannot be without influence upon the further psychic process. Processes that are especially highly-toned and loaded with affect must entail an increased expenditure of energy, hence a definitely prolonged period of restitution or secondary function. The effect of the secondary function upon the psychic process is considered by Gross to be a specific and demonstrable influencing of the subsequent association sequence, with the particular effect of restricting the choice of associations to the ' thema ' represented in the primary function, the so-called 'leading idea*. Not long after, as a matter of fact, I was able to show in my own experimental work (as likewise several of my pupils in corresponding investigations)/A*0*0fcj: of perseveration" 1 following ideas with a high feeling-tone. These phenomena are accessible to mathematical proof. My pupil Dr Eberschweiler, in an investigation of speech- phenomena, has demonstrated this same phenomenon in assonances and agglutinations 2 . Furthermore, we know 1 Jung, Studies in Word-Association. Eberschweiler, Untersuchungen veber die sprachliche KomponenU for Association (Inang. Diss. Zurich) 1908 (Attg. Zeitschr.f. Psychiatric, TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 339 from pathological experience how frequently perseverations occur in severe brain-lesions, e.g. apoplexies, tumours, atrophic and other degenerative conditions. These may well be ascribed to this impeded restitution-process. Thus Gross' hypothesis has a good share of probability. It is only natural, therefore, to raise the question whether there may not be individuals, or even types, in whom the restitution period, the secondary function, persists longer than in others, and, if so, whether certain peculiar psycho- logies may not eventually be traceable to this. A brief secondary function, clearly, influences fewer consecutive associations in a given length of time than a long one. Hence, in the former case, the primary function can occur much more frequently. The psychological picture, in such a case, would show a constant and rapidly renewed readi- ness for action and reaction, hence a kind of capacity for deviation, a tendency to a superficiality of associative connections, and a lack of the deeper, more integrated connections, a certain incoherence, therefore, in so far as significance is expected of the association. On the other hand many new themata crowd up in the unit of time, though not at all deeply engaged or clearly focussed ; so that heterogeneous ideas of varying values appear, as it were, on the same niveau, thus giving an impression of a rt levelling of ideas " ( Wernicke). This rapid succession of ideas in the primary function excludes any real experience of the affective value of the thema per se ; hence the affectivity cannot be anything but superficial. But, at the same time, rapid adaptations and changes of attitude are thereby rendered possible. The real intellectual process or, better still, abstraction naturally suffers from the abbreviation of the secondary function, since the process of abstraction demands a sustained contemplation of several initial ideas plus their after-effects, and therefore a longer secondary function. Without this, no intensifies- 340 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY tion and abstraction of an idea or of a group of ideas can take place. The more rapid recovery of the primary function produces a higher ' rtagibilitll not of course in the intensive, but in the extensive, sense; hence it provides a prompt grasp of the immediate present, though only of its surface, not of its deeper meaning. From this circum- stance we may easily gain the impression of an uncritical or open-minded disposition, as the case may be ; we are struck by a certain compliancy and understanding, or we may find an unintelligible inconsiderateness, a crude tactlessness, or even brutality. That too facile gliding over the deeper meanings gives the impression of a certain blindness for everything not immediately transparent or superficial The quick ' ragibilit ' also has the appearance of so-called presence of mind, of audacity even to the point of foolhardiness ; thus, besides a lack of criticism, it also suggests an inability to realize danger. His rapidity of action looks like decisiveness ; it is more often blind impulse. His encroachment upon another's province is almost a matter of course; this is facilitated by his ignorance of the emotional value of an idea or action, and its effect upon his fellow-men. As a result of the rapid restoration of the state of readiness, the elaboration of perceptions and experiences is disturbed; accordingly memory is seriously handicapped, since, as a rule, only those associations are accessible to immediate reproduc- tion, with which abundant connections are engaged. Relatively isolated contents are quickly submerged; for which reason it is infinitely more difficult to retain a series of meaningless (incoherent) words than a poem. Quick inflammability, rapidly fading enthusiasms, are further characteristics of this type. There is also a certain want of taste, which arises from the too rapid succession of heterogeneous contents with a non-realization of their TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 34I different emotional values. His thinking has a repre- sentative character; it tends more towards a quick presentation and orderly arrangement of contents than towards abstraction and synthesis. In this outline of the type with the shorter secondary function I have substantially followed Gross, with the addition of a few transcriptions into the normal Gross calls this type : inferiority with shallow consciousness. But, if the too unmitigated traits are toned down to a normal level, we get a general picture, in which the reader will again easily recognize the less emotional type of Jordan, in other words, the extravert. Full acknowledgment is due to Gross, since he was the first to establish a uniform and simple hypothesis for the production of this type. The type opposed to it is termed by Gross: inferiority with contracted consciousness. In this type the secondary function is particularly intensive and prolonged. By its prolongation, consecutive association is influenced to a greater extent than in the type mentioned above. Obviously, we may also assume an accentuated primary function in this case, and, therefore, a more extensive and complete cell performance than with the extravert A prolonged and reinforced secondary function would be the natural consequence of this. The prolonged secondary function causes a longer duration of the effect stimulated by the initial idea. From this we get what Gross terms a "contractive effect," namely a specially directed choice (in the sense of the initial idea) of consecutive associations. An extensive realization, or * approfondissement ', of the 'thema', is thereby obtained. The idea has an enduring effect; the impression goes deep. One disadvantage of this is a certain limitation within a narrow range, whereby thinking suffers both in variety and abundance. Synthesis, notwithstanding, is essentially assisted, since the elements to be composed remain constellated long enough to render 342 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY their abstraction possible. Moreover, this restriction to one thema undoubtedly effects an enrichment of the relevant associations and a firm inner cohesion and in- tegration of the complex ; at the same time, however, the complex is shut off from all extraneous material and thus attains an associative isolation, a phenomenon which Gross (in support of Wernicke's concept) terms " sejunction." A result of the sejunction of the complex is an accumula- tion of groups of ideas (or complexes), which have no mutual connection or only quite a loose one. Outwardly such a condition reveals itself as a disharmonious, or, as Gross 1 calls it, a "sejunctive" personality. The isolated complexes exist side by side without any reciprocal influence : accordingly they do not interpene- trate, mutually levelling and correcting each other. In themselves, they are strictly and logically integrated, but they are deprived of the correcting influence of differently orientated complexes. Hence it may easily come about that an especially strong, and therefore particularly shut- off and uninfluenced complex, becomes an " excessively valued idea," *.*. it becomes a dominant, defying every criticism and enjoying complete autonomy, until finally it comes to be an uncontrollable factor, in other words, ' spleen/ In pathological cases we find it as a compulsive or paranoic idea, *.*. it becomes an absolutely insurmount- able factor, coercing the whole life of the individual into its service. As a result, the entire mentality becomes differently orientated, the standpoint becomes * deranged 1 From this conception of the genesis of a paranoic idea the fact might also be explained that, in certain incipient i In another place (Psychopath. Minderw., p. 41) Gross draws a distinction, rightly in my view, between the " overvalued idea " and the so-called " complex with commanding value ". For the latter is characteristic .not only of this type, as Gross thinks, bnt also of the other. The " conflict " complex has always considerable value by virtue of its accentuated feeling tone, no matter in which type it may appear. TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 343 conditions, the paranoic idea can be corrected by means of an appropriate psychotherapeutic procedure; namely, when the latter succeeds in combining it with other broadening and therefore correcting complexes. 1 There is also an undoubted wariness, even anxiety, connected with the re-integration of severed complexes. The things must remain cleanly sundered, the bridges between the complexes must be, as far as possible, broken down by a strict and rigid formulation of the complex content. Gross calls this tendency " association fear" 2 . The strict inner seclusiveness of such a complex hampers every attempt at external influence. Such an attempt has a prospect of success only when it succeeds in combining either the premises or the conclusion of the complex, just as strictly and logically with another complex as they are themselves mutually bound. The ac- cumulation of insufficiently connected complexes naturally effects a rigid seclusion from the outer world, and, as we would say, a powerful heaping-up of libido within. Hence, we" regularly find an extraordinary concentration upon the inner processes, directed, in accordance with the nature of the subject, either upon physical sensations in one preferentially orientated by sensation, or upon mental processes in the more intellectual subject. The personality seems arrested, absorbed, dispersed, 'sunk in thought', intellectually one-sided, or hypochondriacaL In every case there is only a meagre participation in external life, and a distinct inclination to an unsociable and solitary existence, which often finds compensation in a special love for plants or animals. The inner processes enjoy a heightened activity, because from time to time complexes which hitherto had only a * Cf . P. Bjerre : Zur RadikaJbehandlung dor chronischen Paranoia (Jdhrbuchf&rpsychoanal. Forschungen, Bd. iii, pp. 795 .) * Psychopath. Minder. , p. 40. 344 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY slight connection, or even none at all, suddenly collide; this again gives rise to an intensive primary function which, in its turn, releases a long secondary function that amalgamates the two complexes. One might imagine that all the complexes would at some time or other collide in this way, thus producing a general uniformity and integration of psychic contents. Naturally, this wholesome result could take place only if in the meantime one were to arrest all change in the external life. But, since this is impossible, fresh stimuli are continually arriving and making new secondary functions, which intersect and confuse the inner lines. Consequently this type has a decided tendency to hold external stimuli at a distance, to keep out of the path of change, to maintain life when possible, in its constant daily stream, until- every interior amalgamation shall have been effected. In a diseased subject, this tendency is also clearly in evidence ; he gets away from people as far as possible and endeavours to lead the life of a recluse. Only in slight cases, however, will the remedy be found in this way. In all the more severe cases there is nothing for it but to reduce the intensity of the primary function ; which problem, however is a chapter in itself, and one which we have already attacked in the discussion of the Schiller letters. It is now clear that this type is distinguished by quite definite affect-phenomena. We have already seen how the subject realizes the associations belonging to the initial presentation. He carries out a full and coherent associa- tion of the material relevant to the thema, in so far, that is, as there is no question of material already linked up with another complex. When a stimulus hits upon such material, *.& upon a complex, the result is either a violent reaction and an affective explosion, or, when the isolation of the complex precludes all contact, entirely negative. But, when realization takes place, all the affective values TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 345 are released ; a powerful emotional reaction occurs, which leaves a long after-effect. Frequently this remains out- wardly unobserved, but actually it bores in all the deeper. These reverberations of the affect engross the individual's attention, incapacitating him from receiving new stimuli until the affect has faded away. An accumulation of stimuli becomes unbearable, whence violent defence- reactions appear. Wherever a strong complex accumula- tion occurs, a chronic attitude of defence usually develops, which may proceed to general distrust, and in pathological cases to delusions of persecution. Sudden affective explosions, alternating with taciturnity and defence, often give such a bizarre appearance to the personality that these persons become quite enigmatic to their entourage. Their impaired readiness, due to inner absorption, leaves them deficient whenever presence of mind or promptness of action is demanded. Accordingly, embarrassing situations frequently occur for which no remedy is at hand one reason the more for a further seclusion from company. Through the occasional ex- plosions confusion is created in one's relations to others, and the very presence of this perplexity and embarrass- ment incapacitates one from restoring one's relations, upon the right lines. This faulty adaptation leads to a series of un- toward experiences, which unfailingly beget a feeling of inferiority or bitterness, if not of actual animosity, that is readily directed against those who were actually or ostensibly the originators of one's misfortune. The affec- tive inner life is very intense, and the manifold emotional reverberations develop an extremely " fine gradation and perception of feeling tones; there is a peculiar emotional sensibility, revealing itself to the outer world in a peculiar timidity and uneasiness in the presence of emotional stimuli, or before every situation where such impressions M* 346 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY might be possible. This touchiness, or irritation, is specifically directed against the emotional conditions of the environment Hence, from brusque expressions of opinion, assertions charged with affect, attempts to influence feeling etc., there is an immediate and instinctive defence, proceeding, of course, from this very fear of the subject's own emotion, which might again release a rever- berating impression whose force might overmaster him. From such sensitiveness time may well develop a certain melancholy, due to a sense of being shut off from life. In another place 1 "melancholy" is mentioned by Gross as a special characteristic of this type. In the same passage he also points out that the realization of the affective value easily leads to excessive emotional valua- tion, or to * taking things too seriously 9 . The strong relief given in this picture to the inner processes and the emotional life at once reveals the intro- vert The description given by Gross is much fuller than Jordan's outline of the " impassioned type ", which must, however, in its main characters be identical with the type pictured by Gross. In Chapter V of his work Gross observes that, within normal limits both the inferiority types he describes present physiological differences of individuality. The shallow extensive or the narrow intensive consciousness is, therefore, distinctive of the whole character*. Accord- ing to Gross, the type of extensive consciousness is pre- ferably practical, because of his quick adaptation to the environment. The inner life does not predominate, since it has no great part to play in the formation of great idea- complexes. " They are energetic propagandists for their own personality, and, on a higher level, they also work for the great ideas already handed down." 8 Gross asserts * Gross, Ueber psyckopcdhologische MinderwertigkeiUn. * '*, P- 59- 8 Cf . the similar testimony of Jordan. TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 347 that the feeling life of this type is primitive ; though in the higher representatives it becomes organized " through the taking over of ready-made ideals from without" His activity, therefore, with respect to the feeling life can (as Gross says) become heroic. "Yet it is always banal". " Heroic " and " banal " scarcely seem compatible attributes. But Gross shows us at once what he means : in this type there is not a sufficiently rich or developed connection between the erotic complex and the remaining conscious content, *.*. with the remaining complexes, aesthetical, ethical, philosophical, and religious. At this point Freud would speak of the repression of the erotic element. The distinct presence of this connection is regarded by Gross as a "true sign of the superior nature" (p. 61). For the sound formation of this connection a prolonged secondary function is indispensable, since only through the " appro- fondissement " and prolonged consciousness of the necessary elements can such a synthesis be brought about. Sexuality can certainly be pressed into the paths of social utility, through the agency of accepted ideals, but it "never mounts above the limits of triviality". This somewhat harsh judgment relates to a circumstance rendered easily intelligible in the light of the extraverted character : the extravert is exclusively orientated by external data, and it is always his pre-occupation with these wherein the principal bias of his psychic activity lies. Hence he has nothing at his command for the ordering of his inner affairs. They have to be subordinated, as a matter of course, to determinants accepted from without, Under such circumstances, no true connection between the more highly and the less developed functions can take place, for this demands a great expense of time and trouble; it is a lengthy and difficult labour of self-education which cannot possibly be achieved without introversion. But for this, the extravert lacks both time and inclination ; TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY moreover, were he so inclined, he is hampered by that same avowed distrust with which he envisages his inner world, or the introvert the outer world. One should not imagine, however, that the introvert, thanks to his greater synthetic capacity and his greater ability for the realization of affective values, is thereby immediately fitted to carry out the synthesis of his own individuality, i.e. to establish once and for all a harmonious association between the higher and lower functions. I prefer this formulation to Gross' conception, which holds that the sole question is one of sexuality; since, in my view, it is not purely a question of sexuality, but of other instincts as well. Sexuality is, of course, a very frequent form of expression for undomesticated, raw instincts ; but the struggle for power in all its manifold aspects is an equally crude instinctive expression. Gross has invented the expression " sejunctive person- ality " for the introvert, by which, he singles out the peculiar difficulty with which this type obtains any cohesion or connection between his severed complexes. The synthetic capacity of the introvert merely serves to build complexes, as far as possible, isolated from each other. But such complexes are a direct hindrance to the development of a higher unity. Thus, in the introvert also, the complex of sexuality, or the egotistical striving for power, or the search for enjoyment, remains as far as possible isolated and sharply divorced from other complexes. For example, I remember an introverted and highly intellectual neurotic, who wasted his time alternating between the loftiest flights of transcendental idealism and the most squalid suburban brothels, without any conscious admission of the existence of a moral or aesthetic conflict The two things were utterly distinct as though belonging to different spheres. The result, naturally, was an acute compulsion neurosis. TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 349 We must bear this criticism in mind when following Gross' elaboration of the type with intensive consciousness. Deepened consciousness is, as Gross says, " the basis for the deepening of individuality". As a consequence of the strong contractive effect, external stimuli are always regarded from the standpoint of an idea. In place of the instinct for practical life in so called reality, there is an impelling tendency to ' approfondissement '. " Things are not conceived as individual phenomena, but as partial ideas or constituents of the great idea-complex". This conception of Gross accurately coincides with our former reflection k propos the discussion of the nominalistic and realistic standpoints with their antecedent representatives in the Platonic, Megaric, and Cynic schools. In the light of Gross' conception one may easily discern wherein the difference between the two standpoints exists: the man with the short secondary function has in a unit of time many, and only loosely connected, primary functions; hence, he is especially held by the individual phenomenon and the individual case. For such a man the universalia are only nomina and are deprived of reality ; whereas for the man with a long secondary function the inner facts, abstracta, ideas, or universalia, are always in the fore- ground ; they are to him the real and actual, to which he must relate all individual phenomena. He is, therefore, by nature a realist (in the scholastic sense). Since, for the introvert, manner of thinking always takes predecence over perception of externals, he is inclined to be a relativist (Gross, p. 63). Harmony in his surroundings gives him especial pleasure (p. 64): it corresponds with his inner pressure towards the harmonizing of his isolated com* plexes. He shuns every sort of " unrestrained demeanour ", for it might easily lead to disturbing stimuli (cases of affect explosion must, of course, be excepted). Social consideration, as a result of his absorption by inner 350 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY processes, is rather meagre. The strong predominance of his own ideas does not favour an acceptance of the ideas or ideals of others. The intense inner elaboration of the complexes gives them a pronounced individual character. "The feeling-life is frequently unserviceable socially, but is always individual" (p. 65). This statement of the author must be submitted to searching criticism, for it contains a problem which, in my experience, always gives occasion for the greatest misunderstandings between the types. The introverted intellectual, whom Gross clearly has here in mind, though outwardly showing as little feeling as possible, manifests logically correct views and actions, not least because in the first place he has a natural distaste for any parade of feeling, and secondly because he is fearful lest by incorrect behaviour he should excite disturbing stimuli, *. the 'affects of his fellow-men. He is fearful of dis- agreeable affects in others, because he credits others with his own sensitiveness; furthermore, he has always been distressed by the quickness and apparent fitfulness of the extravert He represses his feeling; hence in his inner depths it occasionally swells to passion, when only too clearly he perceives it His tormenting emotions are well known to him. He compares them with the feelings shown by others, principally, of course, with those of the extraverted feeling type, and he finds that "his "feelings" are quite different from those of other men. Hence he embraces the idea that his "feelings" (or, more correctly, emotions) are unique, *. individual. It is natural that they should differ from the feelings of the extraverted feeling type, since the latter are a differentiated instrument of adaptation, and are wanting, therefore in the "genuine passionateness " which char- acterizes the deeper feelings of the introverted thinking type. But passion, as an elemental, instinctive force, TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 351 possesses little that is individual rather is it common to all men. Only what is differentiated can be individual Hence, in the deepest affects, the distinctions of type are at once obliterated in favour of the universal "all too human". In my view, the extraverted feeling type has really the chief claim to individualized feeling, because his feelings are differentiated; but where his thinking is concerned, he falls into a similar delusion. He has thoughts which torment him. He compares them with the ideas expressed in the world about him, i.e. ideas largely derived in the first place from the introverted thinking type. He discovers his thoughts have little in common with these ideas ; he may therefore regard them as individual and himself, perhaps, as an original thinker, or he may repress his thoughts altogether, since no-one else thinks the same. In reality, however, his thoughts are common to all the world, although but seldom uttered. In my view, therefore, Gross* statement mentioned above springs from a subjective deception, which, however, is also the general rule. "The increased contractive power enables an absorption in things, to which an immediate vital interest is no longer attached". (Gross, p. 65). Here Gross lights upon an essential trait of the introverted mentality : the introvert delights in developing ideas for their own ' sake, quite apart from all external reality. Herein lies both a superiority and a danger. It is a great advantage to be able to develop an idea in an abstract sphere, where sense no longer intervenes. But there is a danger lest the train of thought should become removed from every practical application, and its value for life be proportion- ately diminished. Hence the introvert is always some- what in danger of getting too remote from life, and of viewing things too much from their symbolical aspect. Gross also lays stress upon this character. The extravert, 352 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY however, is in no better plight, only for him matters are rather different He has the capacity so to curtail his secondary function that he experiences almost nothing but the positive primary function, i.e. he no longer remains anchored to anything, but flies above reality in a sort of frenzy; things are no longer seen and realized, but are merely used as stimulants. This capacity has a great advantage, for it enables one to manoeuvre oneself out of many difficult situations ("Lost art thou, when thou thinkest of danger", Nietzsche); but it is also a great disadvantage, and catastrophe is its almost inevitable outcome, so often does it lead one into inextricable chaos. From the extraverted type Gross produces the so-called civilizing genius, and the so-called cultural genius from the introverted. The former corresponds with "practical achievement ", the latter with "abstract invention". In conclusion Gross expresses his conviction "that our age stands in especial need of the contracted, intensified con- sciousness, in contrast to former ages where consciousness was shallower and more extensive" (pp. 68 ff.) " We delight in the ideal, the profound, the symbolical Through simplicity to harmony, this is the art of the highest culture". Gross wrote this, to be sure, in the year 1902. And how is it now? If we were to express any opinion at all ; we must confess that we manifestly need both civilization and culture, a shortening of the secondary function for the one, and a prolongation for the other. For we cannot create the one without the other, and we are, unhappily, bound to admit that in humanity to-day there is a lack on either side. Or, let us say, where one is in excess, the other is deficient; thus to express ourselves more guardedly; for the continual harping upon progress has become untrustworthy and is under suspicion. In summing up, I would observe that the views of Gross TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 353 coincide substantially with my own. Even my terms extra* version and introversion are justified from the standpoint of Gross' conception. It only remains for us to make a critical examination of Gross' basic hypothesis, the concept of the secondary function. It is always a delicate matter, this framing of physio- logical or c organic' hypotheses in connection with psycho- logical processes. It will be familiar that, at the time of the great successes of brain research, a kind of mania prevailedfor fabricatingphysiological hypotheses for psycho- logical processes ; among these, the hypothesis that the cell-processes withdrew during sleep is by no means the most absurd which received serious appreciation and scientific " discussion. One was justified in speaking of a veritable brain-mythology ; but I have no desire to treat Gross' hypothesis as a "brain myth", its working value is too important for that. It is an excellent working hypothesis, which has received repeated and well deserved acknowledgment from other quarters. The idea of the secondary function is as simple as it is ingenious. This simple concept enables one to bring a very large number of complex psychic phenomena into a satisfying formula ; it deals, moreover, with phenomena whose diverse nature would have successfully withstood a simple reduction and classification by any other single hypothesis. With such a fortunate hypothesis one is always tempted to overestimate its range and application. Such a possibility might well apply in this case, although in fact, this hypothesis has unfortunately but limited range. Let us entirely disregard the fact that in itself the hypothesis is only a postulate, since no one has ever seen the secondary function of the brain-cells, and no one could ever demonstrate why, theoretically, the secondary function should, qualitatively have the same contractive effect upon the next associations as the primary function, 354 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY which, according to its definition, is essentially different from the secondary function. There is a further circum- stance which in my opinion carries even greater weight : viz. in one and the same individual the habits of the psychological attitude can alter in a very short space of time. If the duration of the secondary function is of a physiological or organic character, it must surely be regarded as more or less permanent It is not to be expected, then, that the duration of the secondary function should suddenly change; such changes are never found in a physiological or organic character, pathological changes, of course, excepted. But, as I have already emphasized more than once, introversion and extraversion are not characters at all, but mechanisms^ which can, as it were, be inserted or disconnected at will. Only from their habitual predominance do the corresponding characters develop. There is an undoubted predilection depending upon a certain inborn disposition, which, how- ever, is not always absolutely decisive for one or other mechanism. I have frequently found milieu influences to be almost equally important. On one occasion a case actually came within my own experience, in which a man who had presented a marked extraverted de- meanour, while living in the closest proximity to an introvert, changed his attitude and became quite intro- verted when subsequently closely involved with a pro- nounced extraverted personality. I have repeatedly observed in what a short space of time certain personal influences effect an essential altera- tion in the duration of the secondary function, even in a well-defined type, and how the former condition becomes re-established with the disappearance of the foreign influence. With such experiences in vi6w, we should, I think, direct our interest more to the constitution of the primary function. Gross himself lays stress upon the TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 355 special prolongation of the secondary function after strong affects 1 , thus bringing the secondary function into a dependent relation upon the primary function. There exists, in fact, no sort of plausible ground why the theory of types should be based upon the duration of the secondary function ; it might conceivably be grounded equally well upon the intensity of the primary junction, since the duration of the secondary function is obviously dependent upon the intensity of energy-consumption and cell-performance. We might naturally rejoin that the duration of the secondary function depends upon the rapidity of restoration, and that there may be individuals with a specially prompt cerebral assimilation, as opposed to others who are less favoured. If this were the case, the brain of the extravert must possess a higher restitution capacity than that of the introvert. To such a very improbable assumption every basis of proof is lacking. What is known to us of the actual causes of the prolonged secondary function is limited to the fact that, leaving pathological conditions on one side, the special intensity of the primary function effects, quite logically, a prolonga- tion of the secondary function. Hence, in accordance with this fact, the real problem would lie with the primary function and might be resolved into the question, whence comes it that in one the primary function is as a rule intensive, while in another it is weak ? If we must shift the problem upon the primary function, we have under- taken to explain the varying intensity, and the manifestly rapid alteration of intensity of the primary function. It is my belief that this is an energic phenomenon, dependent upon a general attitude. The intensity of the primary function seems to be directly related to the degree of tension involved in the i I.e., p. 12. Also in Gross* book : Ueber pathologischt Minder- wertigkeittn, p. 30, and p. 37. 356 TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY state of readiness. Where a large amount of psychic tension is present, the primary function will also have a special intensity, with corresponding results. When with increasing fatigue tension diminishes, a tendency to deviation and a superficiality of association appear, pro- ceeding to 'flight of ideas'; a condition, in fact, which is characterized by a weak primary and short secondary function. The general psychic tension (apart from physio- logical causes, such as relaxation, etc.) is dependent upon extremely complex factors, such as mood, attention, expectation, etc., t.e. upon judgments of value, which in their turn are again resultants of all the antecedent psychic processes. By these, of course, I do not understand logical judgments only, but also feeling judgments. Technically, we should express the general tension in the energic sense as libido^ while, in the psychological sense relating to consciousness, we should refer to it as value. The intensive process is c charged with libido ' ; in other words, it is a manifestation of libido, a high-tension energic process. The intensive process is a psychological value* hence the associative combinations proceeding from it are termed valuable, as opposed to those which are the result of slight contractive effect these we describe as worthless or superficial. The tense attitude is essentially characteristic only for the introvert, while the relaxed^ easy attitude denotes the extravert l , apart, of course, from exceptional conditions. Exceptions, however, are frequent even in one and the same individual. Give the introvert a thoroughly congenial, harmonious milieu, and he relaxes and expands to complete extraversion, until one begins to wonder whether one may not be dealing with an extravert. But transfer the extra- vert into a dark and silent chamber, where every repressed 1 This tension or relaxation can occasionally be demonstrated even in the tone of the musculature. Usually one can see it expressed in the face. TYPE-PROBLEM IN PSYCHIATRY 357 complex can gnaw at him, and he will be reduced to a state of tension, in which the faintest stimulus becomes a poignant realization. The changing situations of life can have a similar effect momentarily reversing the type ; but the preferential attitude is not, as a rule, permanently altered, i*. in spite of occasional extraversion the introvert remains what he was before, and the extravert likewise. To sum up: the primary function is, in my view, more important than the secondary. The intensity of the primary function is the decisive factor. It depends upon the general psychic tension, i.e. upon the sum of accumulated and disposable libido. The factor that is conditioned by this accumulation is a complex matter, and is the resultant of all the antecedent psychic states. It may be characterized as mood, attention, emotional state, expectation, etc. Introversion is dis- tinguished by general tension, intensive primary function and a correspondingly long secondary function. Extra- version is characterized by general relaxation, weak primary function, and a correspondingly short secondary function. CHAPTER VII THB PROBLEM OF TYPICAL ATTITUDES IN AESTHETICS IT is, as it were, self-evident that every province of the human mind that is either directly or indirectly concerned with psychology should yield its contribution to the question we are here discussing. Now that we have listened to the philosopher, the poet, the physician, and the observer of men, let us hear what the representative of aesthetics has to say. ^Esthetics has to deal, not only with the aesthetic nature of things, but also and in perhaps even higher degree with the psychological question of the aesthetic attitude. Not for long could such a fundamental pheno- menon as the oppo'sition of introversion and extraversion escape the aesthetic standpoint, since the form and manner in which art and beauty are sensed and regarded by different individuals differ so widely that one could not but be struck by this opposition. Disregarding the many, more or less, sporadic and unique individual peculiarities of attitude, there exist two contrasting basic forms, which Worringer has described as 'feeling-into ' (' empathy') 1 and 'abstraction'*. His definition of ' feeling-into ' is derived principally from Lipps. For Lipps, feeling-into is "the objectification of my quality into an object distinct from myself, whether the quality objectified merits the * There exists, unfortunately, no English equivalent for Einfahlung. Notwithstanding a certain unavoidable clumsiness such a term in- volves, I have preferred the literal ' feeling-into ' to a more manageable, though inadequate rendering such as ' empathy '. [Translator] * Worringer, Abstraktion und Einf&hiung, 3rd ed., Munich 19x1. 868 TYPE-PROBLEM IN -ESTHETICS 359 term 'feeling' or not". "While I am in the act of apperceiving an object, I experience, as though in it or issuing from it, as something apperceived and present in it, an impetus towards a definite manner of inner behaviour. This appears as given through it, as though imparted to me by it 1 " Jodl 2 interprets it as follows : " The sensuous appearance given by the artist is not merely an induce- ment which brings to our mind kindred experiences by the laws of association ; but, since it is subordinated to the universal laws of externalization, 8 and appears as something outside of ourselves, we also project into it those inner processes which it reproduces in our minds. We thereby give it (esthetic animation an expression which may be preferred to the term ' feeling-into ' because, in this introjection of one's own inner state into the picture, it is not feeling alone that is concerned, but every sort of inner process." By Wundt feeling-into is reckoned among the elementary assimilation processes* Feeling-into, therefore, is a kind of perception process, distinguished by the fact that it transveys, through the agency of feeling, an essential psychic content into the object ; whereby the object is introjected. This content, by virtue of its intimate relation with the subject, assimilates the object to the subject, and so links it up with the subject that the latter senses himself, so to speak, in the object. The subject, however, does not feel himself into the object, but the object felt into appears rather as though it were animated and expressing itself of its own accord. This peculiarity depends upon the fact that the * Lipps, Leitfaden der Psychologic, 2nd ed. 1906, p. 193. Jodl, Lthrbuch der Psychologic (1908), vol. ii, p. 436. * By externalization Jodl understands the localizing of the sense- perception in space. We neither hear tones in the ear nor do we see* colours in the eye, but in the spatially localized object. (Lc., vol. ii, P- *47>- Wundt, Grundx&ge der physiologischen Psychology*, 5th ed., vol. iii p 19*. 360 TYPE-PROBLEM IN .ESTHETICS projection transfers an unconscious content into the object, whence also the feeling-into process is termed transference (Freud) in analytical psychology. Feeling-into, therefore^ is an extroversion. Worringer defines the aesthetic ex- perience in feeling-into as follows : " Esthetic enjoyment is objectified pleasure in oneself (l.c., p. 4). Consequently, only that form is beautiful into which one can./**/ oneself. Lipps says : " Only so far as this feeling-into extends are forms beautiful. Their beauty is simply: this my ideal freely living itself out in them" (jEsthetik, p. 247). The form into which one cannot feel oneself is, accordingly, ugly. Herein is also involved the limitation of the feeling- into theory, since there exist art-forms, as Worringer points out, whose products do not correspond with the attitude of feeling-into. Specifically one might mention the oriental and exotic art-forms as being of this nature. But, with us in the west, long tradition has established 'natural beauty and truth to Nature ' as the criterion of beauty in art, since it is also the criterion and essential character of Graeco- Roman and occidental art in general. (With the exception, however, of certain medieval forms.) For ages past our general attitude to art has been one of feeling-into, and we can describe as beautiful only a thing into which we can feel ourselves. If the artistic form of the object is opposed to life, inorganic or abstract, we cannot feel our life into it; whereas this naturally always takes place when we have a feeling-into relationship with the object ("What I feel myself into is life in general ", Lipps). We can feel ourselves only into organic form form that is true to Nature and has the will to live. And yet another art-principle certainly exists, a style that is opposed to life, that denies the will to live, that is distinct from life, and yet makes a claim to beauty. When artistic energy creates forms whose abstract inorganic TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS 361 quality is opposed to life, there can no longer be any question of a creative will arising from the feeling-into need ; rather is it a need to which feeling-into is directly opposed in other words, a tendency to suppress life. " The impulse to abstraction would seem to be this counter- urge to the feeling-into need." (Worringer, l.c. 9 p. 16). Concerning the psychology of this impulse to abstrac- tion, Worringer says: "What psychic suppositions are there for the impulse to abstraction ? Among those peoples where it exists we must look for them in their feeling towards the world, in their psychic behaviour vis-4-vis the cosmos. Whereas the feeling-into impulse is conditioned by a happy, pantheistic, trustful relationship between man and the phenomena of the outer world, the impulse to abstraction is the result of a great inner uneasiness or fear of these phenomena, and in the religious connection corresponds with a strong transcendental colouring of every idea. Such a state might be called an immense spiritual agoraphobia. When Tibullus says ' primum in mundo fecit deus timorem ' (' The first thing God made in the world was fear'), this very feeling of dread is admitted as the primal root of artistic energy." This is literally true ; feeling-into does presuppose a subjective attitude of readiness, or trustfulness vis-4-vis the object It is a free movement of response, transveying a subjective content into the object; thus producing a subjective assimilation, which brings about a good under- standing between subject and object, or at least simulates it A passive object allows itself to be assimilated sub- jectively, but in doing so its real qualities are in no way altered; although through the transference they may become veiled or even, conceivably, violated. Through the feeling-into process similarities and apparently common qualities may be created which have no real existence in themselves. It is quite understandable, therefore, that 362 TYPE-PROBLEM IN ESTHETICS the possibility of another kind of aesthetic relation to the object must also exist an attitude, namely, that neither responds nor advances to the object, but, on the contrary, seeks to withdraw from it, and to ensure itself against any influence on the part of the object by creating a subjective psychic activity whose function it is to paralyse the effect of the object To a certain extent the feeling-into attitude presupposes an emptiness of the object, which can thereupon be imbued with its own life. Abstraction, on the other hand, pre- supposes a certain living and operating force on the part of the object ; hence it seeks to remove itself from the object's influence. Thus the abstracting attitude is centri- petal, i.e. introverted, Worringer's concept of abstraction, therefore, corresponds with the introverted attitude. It is significant that Worringer describes the influence of the object in terms of fear or dread. Thus, the abstracting attitude would have a posture vis-4-vis the object, suggest- ing that the latter had a threatening quality, i.e. an injurious or dangerous influence, against which it must defend itself. Doubtless this apparently a priori quality of the object is also a projection or transference, but a transference of a .negative kind. We must, therefore, assume that the act of abstraction is preceded by an unconscious act of projection, in which negatively stressed contents are transveyed to the object Since feeling-into, like abstraction, is a conscious act, and since the latter is preceded by an unconscious pro- jection, we may reasonably ask whether feeling-into may not also be preceded by an unconscious act Since the nature of feeling-into is a projection of subjective contents, the antecedent unconscious act must be the opposite viz. a neutralizing of the object, i.e. making it inoperative^ For by this means the object is, as it were, emptied, robbed of spontaneity, and thereby made a suitable receptacle for TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS 363 the subjective contents of the feeling-into individual. The feeling-into subject seeks to feel his life into the object, to experience in and through the object ; hence it is essential that the independence of the object and the difference between it and the subject be not too manifest Through the unconscious act preceding the feeling-into process, the independent power of the object is thus depotentiated or over-compensated, because the subject forthwith uncon- sciously superordinates himself to the object. But this act of superordination can happen only unconsciously, through an intensification of the importance of the subject. This may happen through an unconscious phantasy, which either deprives the object forthwith of its value and force, or enhances the value of the subject placing him above the object Only by such means can that difference of potential arise which the act of feeling-into demands for the subjective contents to be transveyed into the object The man with the abstracting attitude finds himself in a terribly animated world, which seeks to overpower and smother him; he therefore retires himself, so that in himself he may contrive that redeeming formula which can be relied upon to enhance his subjective value to a point where at least it shall be a match for the influence of the object The man with the feeling-into attitude finds himself, on the contrary, in a world that needs his subjective feeling to give it life and soul. Confidingly he bestows his animation upon it, while the abstracting individual retreats mistrustingly before the daemons of objects, and builds up a protective counterworld with abstract creations. If we recall our argument of the preceding chapter, we shall easily recognize the mechanism of extraversion in the feeling-into attitude, and that of introversion in the abstracting. "The great inner uneasiness occasioned by the phenomena of the outer world" is nothing but the stimulus-fear of the introvert, who, as a result of his deeper 364 TYPE-PROBLEM IN -AESTHETICS sensibility and realization, has a real dread of too rapid or too powerful changes of stimuli. Through the agency of the general concept his abstractions also serve a most definite aim ; viz, to confine the changing and irregular within law- abiding limits. It is self-evident that this, at bottom magical, procedure is to be found in fullest flower among the primi- tives, whose geometrical signs are less valuable from the standpoint of beauty than for their magical properties. Of the orientals, Worringer rightly says : " Tormented by the confused combination and changing play of external phenomena, such people were overtaken by an im- mense need of repose. The possibility of happiness which they sought in art consisted not so much in immersing themselves in the things of the outer world and seeking pleasure therein as in the raising of the individual thing out of its arbitrary and seemingly accidental existence, with a view to immortalizing it within the sphere of abstract form: wherein to find a point of rest amid the ceaseless stream of phenomena" (I.e., p. 18). " These abstract, law-determined forms, therefore, are not merely the highest, but indeed the only, forms wherein man may find repose in face of the monstrous confusion of the world spectacle" (*, p. 21). As Worringer says, it is precisely the oriental religious and art-forms which exhibit this abstracting attitude to the world. To the oriental, therefore, the world in general must appear very different from what it does to the occidental, who animates his object with the feeling-irito attitude. To the oriental, the object is imbued with life a priori and always tends to overwhelm him ; thus he with- draws himself, in order to abstract his impressions from it An illuminating insight into the oriental attitude is offered by Buddha in the Fire-sermon, where he says : " All is in flames. The eye and all the senses stand in flames, kindled by the fire of love, by the fire of hate, by the fire of delu- TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS 365 sion ; through birth, ageing and death, through pain and lamenta- tions, through sorrow, suffering, and despair is the fire kindled. The whole world standeth hi flames ; the whole world is wrapt and shadowed in smoke ; the whole world is devoured by fire ; the whole world quaketh." It is this fearful and sorrowful vision of the world that forces the Buddhist into his abstracting attitude, as, indeed, according to legend, Buddha also was brought to his life's quest through a similar impression of the world. The dynamic animation of the object as the fons et origo of abstraction is strikingly expressed in Buddha's symbolic language. This animation is not dependent upon feeling, into, but corresponds rather with an a priori unconscious projection a projection actually existing from the begin- ning. The term * projection' hardly seems qualified to carry the real meaning of this phenomenon. Projection is really an act that transpires, and not a condition existing from the beginning, which is clearly what we are dealing with here. It seems to me that L6vy-BruhTs concept "participation mystique" is more descriptive of this condition, seeking, as it does, to formulate the primordial relationship of the primitive to his object For the primitive, objects have a dynamic animation, charged, as it were, with soul-stuff or soul-force (not absolutely soul- endowed as is assumed by the animistic hypothesis), so that they have an immediate psychic effect upon the man, producing what is practically a dynamic identification with the object Thus in certain primitive languages objects of personal use have a gender denoting 'alive 1 (the suffix of the 'thing living'). With the abstracting attitude it is much the same, for here also the object has an a priori animation and independence ; far from needing any feeling-into on the part of the subject, the object commands so strong an influence that introversion is almost forced upon one. The powerful unconscious libido 366 TYPE-PROBLEM IN .ESTHETICS charge of the object is dependent upon its " participation mystique" with the unconscious of the introverting subject This is clearly implied in the words of Buddha ; the world- fire is identical with the subject's libido-fire, the expression of his burning passion, which, however, appears objective to him, because it is not yet differentiated into a subjectively disposable function. Abstraction, then, seems to be a function which is at war with the original state of "participation mystique". Its effort is to part from the object, thus to put -an end to the object's tyrannical hold. Its effect is either to lead to the creation of art forms, or to the cognition of the object Similarly, the function of feeling-into is just as effective as an organ of artistic creation as it is of cogni- tion. But it can take place only upon a very different basis from that of abstraction. For, just as the latter is grounded upon the magical importance and power of the object, feeling-into is rooted in the magical importance of the subject, whereby the object is secured by means of mystical identification. It is similar with the primitive, who, on the one hand, is magically influenced by the power of the fetish and at the same time, is also the magician, the accumulator of magical power who dispenses potency to the fetish. (Cf. the churinga rites of the Australians ) *. The unconscious depotentiation of the object, which results from the act of feeling into means also a permanent more moderate valuation of the object For in this case the unconscious contents of the feeling into subject are identical with the object, thus making it appear inanimate * For this reason feeling-into is necessary for the cognition of the nature of the object One might speak in this case, of a continually existing, unconscious abstraction which i Spencer and Gfllen, The Northern Tribes of Central Australia (London, 1904) , * Because the unconscious contents of the feeling-into subject are themselves relatively inanimate. TYPE-PROBLEM IN -ESTHETICS 367 presents the object as inanimate. For abstraction has always this effect : it kills the independent activity of the object, in so far as this is magically related to the psyche of the subject. The abstracting attitude performs this consciously, in order to protect itself from the magical influence of the object. From the a priori inanimateness of the object there likewise proceeds that relation of trust which the feeling-into subject has towards the world; there is nothing there that could inimically affect or oppress him, since he alone dispenses life and soul to the object, although to his conscious appreciation the converse would seem to be true. But, to the man with the abstract- ing attitude, the world is filled with powerfully operating and therefore dangerous objects ; these inspire him with fear, and with a consciousness of his own impotence : he withdraws himself from a too close contact with the world, thus to create those ideas and formulae with which he hopes to gain the upper hand His, therefore, is the psychology of the oppressed, whilst the feeling-into subject confronts the object with an a priori confidence its inanimateness has no dangers for him. This characterization is naturally schematic, and makes no pretence to be a complete portrait of the extraverted or introverted attitude; it merely emphasizes certain nuances, which, nevertheless, have a not inconsiderable importance. Just as the feeling-into subject is really taking unconscious delight in himself by way of .the object, so the abstracting subject unwittingly sees himself while meditating upon the impression that reaches him from the object. For what the feeling-into subject transveys into the object is himself, *'*. his own unconscious content, and what the abstracting man thinks concerning his impression of the object is really thoughts about his own feelings, which appear to him as though belonging to the 368 TYPE-PROBLEM IN -AESTHETICS object It follows, therefore, that both functions are involved in a real understanding of the object, as indeed they are also essential to a real creativeness in art. Both functions are also constantly present in the individual, although for the most part unequally differentiated. In Worringer*s view the common root of these two basic forms of aesthetic experience is the need for self- divestiture. In abstraction the effort of the subject "is to be wholly delivered from the fortuitous in human affairs, the apparently arbitrary power of general organic existence, in the contemplation of something immovable and necessary ". In face of the bewildering and impressive profusion of animated objects, the individual creates an abstraction, & an abstract and general image, which conjures impressions into a law-abiding form. This image has the magical importance of a defence against the chaotic change of experience. He becomes so lost and submerged in this image that finally its abstract truth is set above the reality of life ; and therewith life, which might disturb the enjoyment of abstract beauty, is wholly suppressed. He raises himself to an abstraction ; he identifies himself with the eternal validity of his image and therein congeals, since it practically amounts to a redeeming formula. In this way he divests himself of his real self and transfers his life into his abstraction, in which it is, so to speak, crystallized. But since the feeling-into subject feels his activity, his life, into the object, he therewith also yields "himself to the object, in so far as the felt-into content represents an essential part of the subject He becomes the object ; he identifies himself with it, and in this way gets rid of himself. Because he objectifies himself he, therefore, de-subjectifies himself. Worringer says : " But since we feel this will to activity into another object, we are in the other object. We are released from our own indivi- TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS 369 dual being, just in so far as our urge for experience engrosses us in an outer object or an extrinsic form. In contrast to the limitless diversity of individual consciousness, we feel our in- dividuality flowing, as it were, within fixed bounds. In this self-objectincation there lies a self-divestiture. At the same time, this affirmation of our individual need for activity re- presents a restriction of its illimitable possibilities, a negation of its irreconcilable diversities. We needs must rest, with our inner urgings towards activity, within the limits of this objecti- fication." (l.c., p. 27) As in the case of the abstracting individual, the abstract image represents a comprehensive formula, a bulwark against the disintegrating effects of the uncon- sciously animated object 1 , so for the feeling-into subject, the transference to the object is a defence against the disintegration caused by inner subjective factors, which consist in boundless phantasy possibilities and correspond- ing impulses to activity. Although, according to Adler, the introverted neurotic, is held fast to a "fictitious guiding line", the extraverted neurotic clings no less tenaciously to his transference to the object. The introvert has abstracted his " guiding line " from his good and evil experiences with objects, and he trusts himself to his formula as a means of defence against the unlimited possibilities of life. Feeling-into and abstraction, extraversion and intro- version, are mechanisms of adaptation and defence. In so far as they make adaptation possible, they protect man from external dangers. In so far as they are directed functions 31 they liberate him from fortuitous impulses; moreover, they actually protect him, since they render self-divestiture possible for him. As our daily psychological experience testifies, there i Ft. Th. Vischer, in his novel Auch Einer gives an excellent picture of " animated " objects. * Cf . directed thinking : Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious dL i, pp. 13 N 370 TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS are numbers of men who are wholly identified with their directed function (the "valuable" function), and among them are those very types we are here discussing. Identi- fication with the directed function has the incontestable advantage that by so doing a man can best adapt himself to collective claims and expectations; moreover, it also enables him to avoid his inferior, undifferentiated, and undirected functions through self-divestiture. Besides, from the standpoint of social morality, unselfishness is always considered a particular virtue. But, upon the other side, we have to weigh the great disadvantage that inevitably accompanies this identification with the directed function, viz. the degeneration of the individual. Man, doubtless, is capable of a very extensive reduction to the mechanical level, although never to the point of complete surrender, without suffering gravest injury. For the more he is identified with the one function, the more does its over-charge of libido withdraw libido from the other functions. For a long period, maybe, they will endure even an extreme deprivation of libido, but in time they will inevitably react The draining of libido involves their gradual relapse below the threshold of consciousness, their associative connection with consciousness gets loosened, until they sink by degrees into the unconscious. This is synonymous with a regressive development; namely, a recession of the relatively developed function to an infantile and eventually archaic level But, since man has spent relatively only a few thousand years in a cultivated state, as opposed to many hundred thousand years in a state of savagery, the archaic function-ways are corre- spondingly extraordinarily vigorous and easily reanimated. Hence, when certain functions become disintegrated through deprivation of libido, their archaic foundations begin to operate in the unconscious. This condition involves a dissociation of the person- TYPE-PROBLEM IN AESTHETICS 371 ality ; for, the archaic functions having no direct relation with consciousness, no practicable bridges exist between the conscious and the unconscious. It follows, therefore, that the further self-divestiture goes, the further do the atonic functions decline towards the archaic. Therewith the importance of the unconscious also increases. It begins to provoke symptomatic disturbances of the directed function, thus producing that characteristic circulus vitiosus, which we encounter in so many neuroses: the patient seeks to compensate the unconsciously disturbing influence by means of special performances of the directed function ; and so the chase continues, even, on occasion, to the point of nervous collapse. Conceivably, this possibility of self-divestiture through identification with the directed function depends not only upon a one-sided restriction to the one function, but also upon the fact that the nature of the directed function is a principle which actually demands self-divestiture. Thus every directed function demands the strict exclusion of everything not suited to its nature; thinking excludes every harassing feeling, just as feeling excludes each dis- turbing thought Without the repression of everything that differs from itself, the directed function cannot operate at all. But, on the other hand, the self-regulation of the living organism makes such a strong, natural demand for the harmonizing of human nature that the consideration of the less favoured functions forces itself to the front as a necessity of life, and an unavoidable task in the education of the human race. CHAPTER VIII THE PROBLEM OF TYPES IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 1. William James' Types THE existence of two types has also been revealed in modern pragmatic philosophy, particularly in the philosophy of William James \ He says : " The history of philosophy is, to a great extent, that of a certain clash of human temperaments (characterological disposi- tions) " (p. 6.) " Of whatever temperament a professional philosopher is, he tries, when philosophizing, to sink the fact of his temperament. . . . Yet his temperament really gives him a stronger bias than any of his more strictly objective premises. It loads the evidence for Tifrn one way or the other, making for a more sentimental or a more hard-hearted view of the uni- verse, just as fhfc fact or that principle would. He trusts his temperament. Wanting a universe that suits it, he believes in any representation of the universe that does suit it. He feels men of opposite temper to be out of key with the world's char- acter, and in his heart considers them incompetent and ' not in it/ in the philosophic business, even though they may fax excel Him in dialectical ability. " Yet in the forum he can make no claim, on the bare ground of his temperament, to superior discernment or authority. There arises thus a certain insincerity in our philosophic discussions : the potentest of all our premises is never mentioned." * Whereupon James proceeds to the characterization of the two temperaments. Just as in the province of manners and customs we find formalists and free-and- easy persons, in the political world authoritarians and anarchists, in literature purists or academicals and realists, i W. James, Pragmatism : a new name for some old ways of thinking* (London : Longmans 1911) 1 PP- 7 ff- 811 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 373 in art classics and romantics, so in philosophy, according to James, there are also to be found two types, viz. the "rationalist" and the "empiricist". The rationalist is "your devotee to abstract and eternal principles". The empiricist is the " lover of facts in all their crude variety". 1 Although no man can dispense either with facts or with principles, yet entirely distinct points of view develop which correspond with the value given to either side. James makes "rationalism" synonymous with "intel- lectualism" and " empiricism " with "sensationalism". Although, in my opinion, this comparison is not sound, we will continue with James' line of thought, reserving our criticism for the time being. According to his view, an idealistic and optimistic tendency is associated with intellectualism, whilst empiricism inclines to materialism and a purely conditional and precarious optimism. Rationalism (intellectualism) is always monistic. It begins with the "whole" and the universal and unites things; whereas empiricism begins with the part and converts the whole into a collection. The latter therefore, may be termed pluralistic. The rationalist is a man of feeling, while the empiricist is a hard-headed creature. The former is naturally disposed to a firm belief in free will, the latter to fatalism. The rationalist is readily dogmatic in his statements, while the empiricist is sceptical (pp. 10 ff.) James describes the rationalist as tender- winded^ the empiricist as tough-minded. His aim, clearly, is to characterize the peculiar quality of the two mentali- ties. We must take a further opportunity of examining this characterization rather more closely. It is interesting to hear what James has to say concerning the prejudices which are mutually cherished by the two types. " They have a low opinion of each other. Their antagonism, whenever as individuals their temperaments have been 1 p. 9- 374 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY intense, has formed in all ages a part of the philosophic atmosphere of the time. It forms a part of the philo- sophical atmosphere of to-day. The tough think of the tender as sentimentalists and soft-heads. The tender feel the tough to be unrefined, callous, or brutal. . . Each type believes the other to be inferior to itself." (pp. 12 ff.) James catalogues the qualities of both types in two contrasting columns thus : Tender-minded Tough-minded Rationalistic (going by principles) Empiricist (going by facts) Intellectualistic Sensationalistic Idealistic Materialistic Optimistic Pessimistic Religious Irreligious Free-wfllist Fatalistic Monistic Pluralistic Dogmatical Sceptical This comparison touches upon various problems we have met with already in the chapter upon nominalism and realism. The tender-minded has certain traits in common with the realist, and the tough-minded with the nominalist As I have already pointed out, realism corre- sponds with the principle of introversion, nominalism with extraversion. Without doubt the universalia con- troversy also belongs, in the first place, to that historical " clash of temperaments " in philosophy to which James alludes. These associations prompt us to regard the tender-minded as introverted, and the tough-minded as extraverted. It devolves upon us, however, to redouble our scrutiny before deciding whether or no this combination is valid. From my naturally somewhat limited knowledge of James* writings, I have not succeeded in discovering any more detailed definitions or descriptions of the two types, although he frequently refers to these two kinds of thinking, and incidentally describes them as "thin" and TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 375 thick". Flournoy* interprets "thin" as "mince, t&iu, maigre, ch6tif" and "thick" as "pais, solide, massif, cossu ". James, on one occasion, also uses the expression "soft-headed" for the tender-minded. Both "soft" and "tender" suggest something delicate, mild, gentle, light; hence weak, subdued, and rather powerless, in contrast to "thick" and "tough", which are resistant qualities, solid and hard to change, recalling the nature of matter and substance* Flournoy accordingly elucidates the two kinds of thinking as follows : " It is the opposition between the abstractionist manner of thinking in other words, the purely logical and dialectical fashion so dear to phil- osophers, which fails, however, to inspire James with any confidence, appearing to him as fragile, hollow "chdtive", because too withdrawn from the contact of individual things and the concrete manner of thinking, which is nourished on the facts of experience and never quits the earthy region of tortoise-shells or other positive facts." (P- 32)- We should not, of course, conclude from this com- mentary that James has a one-sided approval of concrete thinking. He appreciates both standpoints: "Facts are good, of course . . . give us lots of facts. Principles are good . . . give us plenty of principles." Admittedly, a fact never exists only as it "is in itself, but also as we view it If, therefore, James describes concrete thinking as "thick" or "tough", he thereby demonstrates that for him this kind of thinking has something substantial and resistant, while abstract thinking appears as something weak, thin, and pallid, perhaps even (if we interpret with Flournoy) rather sickly and decrepit Naturally, such a view is possible only for one who has made an a priori, connection between substantiality and the concrete fact, Th. Flournoy, La philosophic & W. James, p. 32 (Saint BIai$$. 376 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY and that, as we have already said, is just where the question of temperament comes in. If the " empirical " thinker attributes a resistant substantiality to his concrete thinking, from the abstract standpoint he is deceiving himself, because substantiality, or "hardness", belongs to the external fact and not to his "empirical" thinking. In fact, the latter turns out to be particularly weak and decrepit ; for, so little does it know how to maintain itself in the presence of the external fact, that it must always be running after, even depending upon, sense-given facts, and, in consequence, can hardly be said to rise above the level of a mere classifying or presenting activity. From the thinking standpoint, therefore, there is some- thing very frail and dependent about concrete thinking, because, instead of having stability in itself, it depends upon outer objects, which are superordinated to thought as determining values. Hence this kind of thinking is characterized by a succession of sense-bound representa- tions, which are set in motion, not so much by an inner thought - activity, as by the changing stream of sense perceptions. A succession of concrete representations conditioned by sensuous perceptions is not precisely what the abstract thinker would term thinking, but at best only a passive apperception. The temperament that prefers concrete thinking, and grants it substantiality, is distinguished, therefore, by a preponderance of sense -conditioned representations, as against active apperception, which springs from a sub- jective act of will, whose aim it is to command the sense-determined representations in accordance with the tendencies of an idea. To put it more briefly: more weight is given to the object in such a temperament ; the object is felt-into; it maintains a quasi-independent behaviour in the idea-world of the subject, and carries comprehension along in its train. This is therefore an TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 377 extraverting temperament The thinking of the extravert is concretistic. His soundness and stability do not lie in himself, but very largely outside himself in the felt-into facts of experience, whence also James 1 qualification "tough" is derived. To the man who is always ranged upon the side of concrete thinking, i.e* upon the side of representations of facts, abstraction appears as something feeble and decrepit, something he is well able to dispense with, in face of the solidity of concrete, sense-established facts. But, for the man who is on the side of abstraction, it is not the sense-conditioned representation, but the abstract idea y which is the decisive factor. According to the current conception, an idea is nothing but an abstraction of a sum of experiences. With such a notion the human mind is readily conceived as a sort of tabula rasa, that gradually gets covered with the perceptions and experiences of life. From this stand- point, which in the widest sense is the standpoint of our empirical science, the idea can be nothing at all, but an epiphenomenal, a posteriori abstraction from experiences hence feebler and more colourless than these. But we know that the mind cannot be a tabula rasa, since we have only to criticize our principles of thought to perceive that certain categories of our thinking are given a priori^ Le. antecedent to all experience, and make a simultaneous appearance with the first act of thought, being, in fact, its preformed conditions. For what Kant proved for logical thinking holds good for the psyche over a still wider range. At the beginning, the psyche is no more a tabula rasa than is the mind (the province of thought). To be sure the concrete contents are lacking, but the contents - possibilities are given a priori through the inherited and preformed functional disposition. The psyche is simply the product of brain-functioning throughout our whole ancestral line, a precipitate of the adaptation-efforts N* 378 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY and experiences of the phylogenetic succession. Hence the newly-born brain or function-system is an ancient instrument, prepared for quite definite ends; it is not merely a passive, apperceptive instrument, but is also in active command of experience outside itself, forcing certain conclusions or judgments. These adjustments are not merely accidental or arbitrary happenings, but adhere to strictly preformed conditions, which are not transmitted, as are perception-contents, through experience, but are a priori conditions of apprehension. They are ideas ante rem, form-determinants, basic lines engraven a priori, assigning a definite formation to the stuff of experience ; so that we may regard them as images (as Plato also conceived them), as schemata as it were, or inherited function - possibilities, which, moreover, exclude other possibilities, or, at all events, restrict them to a great extent This explains why even phantasy, the freest activity of the mind, can never roam in the infinite (albeit, so the poet senses it), but remains bound to the preformed possibilities, the primordial images or archetypes. In the similarity of their motives, the fairy-tales of the most remote peoples show this binding connection to certain root-images. The very images which underlie scientific theories reveal this inherent restrictiveness ; for example, ether, energy, its transformations and its constancy, the atomic theory, affinity, and so forth. Just as the sense-given representation prevails in, and gives direction to, the concretely thinking mind, so the contentless, and therefore unrepresentable, archetype is paramount in the mind that thinks abstractly. It remains relatively inactive, so long as the object is felt-into and thus raised to the determining factor of thought But, when the object is not felt-into, and thus deprived of its priority in the mental process, the energy thus denied to it returns again into the subject The subject is un- TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 379 consciously felt-into; whereupon the preformed images are awakened from their slumber, emerging as effective factors in the mental process, although in unrepresentable form, rather like invisible stage managers behind the scenes. Being merely activated function possibilities, they are without contents, therefore unimaginable ; accordingly, they strive towards realization. They draw the stuff of experience into their shape, presenting themselves in facts rather than presenting facts. They clothe themselves in facts, as it were. Hence they are not a known starting- point, like the empirical fact in concrete thinking, but only become experienceable through their unconscious shaping of the stuff of experience. Even the empiricist can arrange and shape the material of his experience ; he, nevertheless, forms it, as far as possible, after a concrete idea which he has built up on the basis of past experience. The abstractionist, oh the other hand, shapes after an unconscious model, only gaining an a posteriori experience of the idea, which was his model, by a consideration of the phenomenon he has formed. The empiricist, working from his own psychology, is always inclined to assume that the abstractionist shapes the material of experience in a quite arbitrary fashion from certain pale, feeble, and inadequate premises, measuring as he does the mental process of the abstractionist by his own modus procedendi. The actual premise, *'.*. the idea or root-image, is, however, just as unknown to the abstractionist as, in the case of the empiricist, is that theory which, after such and such experi- ments, he will subsequently build up out of experience. As was explained in an earlier chapter, the one sees the individual object and interests himself in its individual behaviour, while the other has mainly in view the relations of similarity between objects, and disregards the individuality of the fact Amidst the disintegration of multiplicity he finds more peace and comfort in what is 380 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY uniform and coherent To the former, however, the relation of similarity is frankly burdensome and harassing, something that may even hinder him from seizing the perception of the object's particularity. The further he is able to feel himself into the individual object, the more he discerns its peculiarity, and the more the reality of a relation of similarity with another object vanishes from his view.. But, if he also knew how to feel himself into another object, he would be in a position to sense and understand the similarity of both objects to a far higher degree than the man who viewed them simply and solely from without It is because he first feels himself into one object and then into another that the concrete thinker comes only very slowly to the discernment of the connecting similarities, and for this reason his thinking appears torpid and sluggish. But his feeling-into flows readily. The abstract thinker quickly seizes the similarity, replaces the individual object by general, distinguishing marks, and shapes this material with his own inner thought activity, which, however, is just as powerfully influenced by the 'shadowy' archetype as is the concrete thinker by the object. The greater the influence the object has upon thinking, the more are its characters stamped upon the thought-image. But the less the object operates, in the mind, with all the more power will the a priori idea set its impress upon experience. Through the exaggerated importance of the empirical object there has arisen in science a certain sort of specialist theory, as, for instance, that familiar 'brain- mythology' which appeared in psychiatry, wherein an attempt was made to explain a very large domain of experience from principles, which, although pertinent for the elucidation of certain constellations of facts within narrow limits, are wholly inadequate for every other application. But, on the other hand, abstract thinking, TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 381 which accepts one individual fact only because of its similarity with another, creates a universal hypothesis ivhich, while bringing the idea to a more or less clear presentation, has Just as much or as little to do with the nature of concrete facts as a myth. Both thought-forms, therefore, in their extreme ex- pressions, create a mythology, the one expressing it concretely with cells, atoms, vibrations, and so forth, the other with " eternal * ideas. Extreme empiricism has, at least, this advantage: it brings facts to the clearest possible presentation. But the advantage of extreme ideologism is that it reflects back the a priori forms, the ideas or archetypes, with the utmost purity. The theoretical results of the former are exhausted with their material; the practical results of the latter are confined to the presentation of the psychological idea. Because our present scientific mind adopts a one-sided, concrete, and purely empirical, attitude, it has no standard by which to value the man who presents the idea ; since, in the estimation of the empiricist, facts rank higher than the knowledge of those primordial forms in which human intelligence conceives them. This tacking toward the side of concretism is, as we know, a relatively recent acquisition, a relict from the epoch of enlightenment The results of this development are astonishing, but they have led to an accumulation of empirical material whose very immensity gradually produces more confusion than clarity. It inevitably leads to a scientific separatism, and therewith to a specialist mythology, which spells death to universality. But the preponderance of empiricism not only means a smothering of active thinking, it also involves a danger to the laying down of sound theories within any branch of science. The absence of a general view-point favours mythical theory-building, just as much as does the absence of an empirical point of view. 382 TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY In my view, therefore, James' " tender-minded " and ' tough-minded" are manifestly but a one-sided termin- ology, and at bottom conceal a certain prejudice. But it should, at least, have become evident from this discussion that James' characterization deals with those same types which I have termed the introverted and the extraverted. 2. The Characteristic Fairs of Opposites in James' Types (a) The first pair of opposites instanced by James as a distinguishing feature of the types is Rationalism versus Empiricism. As the reader will have remarked, I have already dealt with this antithesis in a previous chapter, conceiving it as the opposition between ideologism and empiricism. I have avoided the expression " rationalism ", because con- crete, empirical thinking is just as "rational" as active, ideological thinking. The ratio governs both forms. There exists, moreover, not merely a logical rationalism but also a feeling rationalism; for rationalism is nothing but a general psychological attitude towards reasonableness of thought and feeling. With this understanding of the concept "rationalism", I find myself in definite and conscious opposition to the historical philosophical con- ception, which understands * rationalistic" in the sense of " ideological ", thus conceiving rationalism as the supremacy of the idea. With the modern philosophers, however, the ratio has been stripped of its purely ideal character ; it is even described as a capacity, instinct, intention, as a feeling even, or, again, a method. At all events considered psychologically it is a certain attitude governed, as Lipps says, by the " feeling of objectivity ". Baldwin x regards it as the "constitutive, regulative principle of the mind 1 '. * Baldwin, Handbook of Psychology, i, p. 313* TYPE-PROBLEM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY 383 Herbart interprets it as "the capacity of reflection" 1 . Schopenhauer says of the reason, that it has only on* function, namely "the shaping of the idea ; and from this unique function all those above-mentioned manifestations, which distinguish the life of man from that of the animal, are very easily and completely explained, and in the application or non-application of that function, positively everything is meant which men in all places and of all times have called reasonable or unreasonable " 2 . The " above- mentioned manifestations" refer to certain properties of reason, instanced by Schopenhauer by way of example, namely " the command of affects and passions, the capacity for drawing conclusions and constructing general principles, . . . the concerted action of several individuals . . . civiliza- tion, the state ; also science and the preservation of previous experience, etc." If reason, as Schopenhauer asserts, has the function of forming ideas, it must also possess the character of that psychic attitude which is fitted to shape ideas through the activity of thought It is entirely in this sense of an attitude that Jerusalem s also conceives the reason, namely as a disposition of the will which enables us, in our decisions, to make use of our reason and control our passions. Reason, therefore, is the capacity to be reasonable, a definite attitude which enables thought, feeling, and action to correspond with objective values. From the standpoint of empiricism this " objective" value is the yield of experi- ence, but from the ideological standpoint it is the result of a positive act of valuation on the part of the reason, which in the Kantian sense would be a . with the generally valid moral view-point If the generally valid view were different, the subjective moral guiding line would also be different, without the general psychological habitus being in any way changed. It might almost seem, although it is by no means the case, that this rigid determination by objective factors would involve an altogether ideal and complete adaptation to general conditions of life. An accommodation to objective data, such as we have described, must, of course, seem a complete adaptation to the extra- verted view, since from this standpoint no other criterion exists. But from a higher point of view, it is by no means granted that the standpoint of objectively given facts is the normal one under all circumstances. Objective conditions may be either temporarily or locally abnormal. An individual who is accommodated to such conditions certainly conforms to the abnormal style of his surround- ings, but, in relation to the universally valid laws of life, he is, in common with his milieu, in an abnormal position. The individual may, however, thrive in such surroundings, GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 419 but only to the point when he, together with his whole milieu, is destroyed for transgressing the universal laws of life. He must inevitably participate in this down- fall with the same completeness as he was previously adjusted to the objectively valid situation. He is adjusted, but not adapted, since adaptation demands more than a mere frictionless participation in the momentary conditions of the .immediate environment (Once more I would point to Spitteler's Epimetheus). Adaptation demands an observance of laws far more universal in their applica- tion than purely local and temporary conditions. Mere adjustment is the limitation of the normal extraverted type. On the one hand, the extravert owes his normality to his ability to fit into existing conditions with relative ease. He naturally pretends to nothing more than the satisfaction of existing objective possibilities, applying himself, for instance, to the calling which offers sound prospective possibilities in the actual situation in time and place. He tries to do or to make just what his milieu momentarily needs and expects from him, and abstains from every innovation that is not entirely obvious, or that in any way exceeds the expectation of those around him. But on the other hand, his normality must also depend essentially upon whether the extravert takes into account the actuality of his subjective needs and requirements; and this is just his weak point, for the tendency of his type has such a strong outward direc- tion that even the most obvious of all subjective facts, namely the condition of his own body, may quite easily receive inadequate consideration. The body is not sufficiently objective or ' external,' so that the satisfaction of simple elementary requirements which are indispensable to physical well-being are no longer given their place. The body accordingly suffers, to say nothing of the soul. Although, as a rule, the extravert takes small note of 420 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES this latter circumstance, his intimate domestic circle perceives it all the more keenly. His loss of equilibrium is perceived by himself only when abnormal bodily sensations make themselves felt. These tangible facts he cannot ignore. It is natural he should regard them as concrete and 'objective', since for his mentality there exists only this and nothing more in himself. In others he at once sees "imagination" at work. A too extraverted attitude may actually become so regardless of the subject that the latter is entirely sacrificed to so-called objective claims; to the demands, for instance, of a continually extending business, because orders lie claiming one's attention or because profitable possibilities are constantly being opened up which must instantly be seized. This is the fcxtravert's danger ; he becomes caught up in objects, wholly losing himself in their toils. The functional (nervous) or actual physical disorders which result from this state have a compensatory significance, forcing the subject to an involuntary self-restriction. Should the symptoms be functional, their peculiar forma- tion may symbolically express the psychological situation ; a singer, for instance, whose fame quickly reaches a danger- ous pitch tempting him to a disproportionate outlay of energy, is suddenly robbed of his high tones by a nervous inhibition. A man of very modest beginnings rapidly reaches a social position of great influence and wide prospects, when suddenly he is overtaken by a psycho- genie state, with all the symptoms of mountain-sickness. Again, a man on the point of marrying an idolized woman of doubtful character, whose value he extravagantly over-esti- mates, is seized with a spasm of the oesophagus, which forces him to a regimen of two cups of milk in the day, demand- ing his three-hourly attention. All visits to his fiancee are thus effectually stopped, and no choice is left to him GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 421 but to busy himself with his bodily nourishment. A man who through his own energy and enterprise has built up a vast business, entailing an intolerable burden of work, is afflicted by nervous attacks of thirst, as a result of which he speedily falls a victim to hysterical alcoholism. Hysteria is, in my view, by far the most frequent neurosis with the extraverted type. The classical example of hysteria is always characterized by an exaggerated rapport with the members of his circle, and a frankly imitatory accommodation to surrounding conditions. A constant tendency to appeal for interest and to produce impressions upon his milieu is a basic trait of the hysterical nature. A correlate to this is his 'proverbial suggestibility, his pliability to another person's influence. Unmistak- able extraversion comes out in the communicativeness of the hysteric, which occasionally leads to the divulging of purely phantastic contents ; whence arises the reproach of the hysterical lie. To begin with, the c hysterical ' character is an exaggera- tion of the normal attitude; it is then complicated by compensatory reactions from the side of the unconscious, which manifests its opposition to the extravagant extra- version in the form of physical disorders, whereupon an introversion of psychic energy becomes unavoidable. Through this reaction of the unconscious, another cate- gory of symptoms arises which have a more introverted character. A morbid intensification of phantasy activity belongs primarily to this category. From this general characterization of the extraverted attitude, let us now turn to a description of the modifications, which the basic psychological functions undergo as a result of this attitude. 4*2 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES (II) THE ATTITUDE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS It may perhaps seem odd that I should speak of an 1 attitude of the unconscious '. As I have already sufficiently indicated, I regard the relation of the unconscious to the conscious as compensatory. The unconscious, according to this view, has as good a claim to an ' attitude ' as the conscious. In the foregoing section I emphasized the tendency to a certain one-sidedness in the extraverted attitude, due to the controlling power of the objective factor in the course of psychic events. The extraverted type is constantly tempted to give himself away (apparently) in favour of the object, and to assimilate his subject to the object I have referred in detail to the ultimate consequences of this exaggeration of the extraverted attitude, viz. to the injurious suppression of the subjective factor. It is only to be expected, therefore, that a psychic compensation of the conscious extraverted attitude will lay especial weight upon the subjective factor, i.e. we shall have to prove a strong egocentric tendency in the unconscious. Practical experience actually furnishes this proof. I do not wish to enter into a casuistical survey at this point, so must refer my readers to the ensuing sections, where I shall attempt to present the characteristic attitude of the un- conscious from the angle of each function-type. In this section we are merely concerned with the compensation of a general extraverted attitude ; I shall, therefore, confine myself to an equally general characterization of the com- pensating attitude of the unconscious. The attitude of the unconscious as an effective com- plement to the conscious extraverted attitude has a definitely introverting character. It focusses libido upon the subjective factor, i.e. all those needs and claims which are stifled or repressed by a too extraverted conscious GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 4*3 attitude. It may be readily gathered from what has been said in the previous section that a purely objective orientation does violence to a multitude of subjective emotions, intentions, needs, and desires, since it robs them of the energy which is their natural right Man is not a machine that one can reconstruct, as occasion demands, upon other lines and for quite other ends, in the hope that it will then proceed to function, in a totally different way, just as normally as before. Man bears his age-long history with him; in his very structure is written the history of mankind. The historical factor represents a vital need, to which a wise economy must respond. Somehow the past must become vocal, and participate in the present Complete assimilation to the object, therefore, encounters the protest of the suppressed minority, elements belonging to the past and existing from the beginning. From this quite general consideration it may be understood why it is that the unconscious claims of the extraverted type have an essentially primitive, infantile, and egoistical character. When Freud says that the unconscious is " only able to wish", this observation contains a large measure of truth for the unconscious of the extraverted type. Adjustment and assimilation to objective data prevent inadequate subjective impulses from reaching consciousness. These tendencies (thoughts, wishes, affects, needs, feelings,, etc.) take on a regressive character corresponding with the degree of their repression, i.e. the less they are recognized, the more infantile and archaic they become. The conscious attitude robs them of their relatively disposable energy- charge, only leaving them the energy of which it cannot deprive them. This remainder, which still possesses a potency not to be under-estimated, can be described only as primeval instinct Instinct can never be rooted out from *n individual by any arbitrary measures ; it requires 424 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES the slow, organic transformation of many generations to effect a radical change, for instinct is the energic expression of a definite organic foundation. Thus with every repressed tendency a considerable sum of energy ultimately remains. This sum corresponds with the potency of the instinct and guards its effective- ness, notwithstanding the deprivation of energy which made it unconscious. The measure of extraversion in the conscious attitude entails a like degree of infantilism and archaism in the attitude of the unconscious. The egoism which so often characterizes the extravert's unconscious attitude goes far beyond mere childish selfishness ; it even verges upon the wicked and brutal. It is here we find in fullest bloom that incest-wish described by Freud. It is self-evident that these things are entirely unconscious, remaining altogether hidden from the eyes of the un- initiated observer so long as the extraversion of the conscious attitude does not reach an extreme stage. But wherever an exaggeration of the conscious standpoint takes place, the unconscious also comes to light in a symptomatic form, & the unconscious egoism, infantilism, and archaism lose their original compensatory characters, and appear in more or less open opposition to the conscious attitude. This process begins in the form of an absurd exaggeration of the conscious standpoint, which is aimed at a further repression of the unconscious, but usually ends in a reductio ad absurdum of the conscious attitude, i.e. a collapse. The catastrophe may be an objec- tive one, since the objective aims gradually become falsified by the subjective. I remember the case of a printer who, starting as a mere employ^, worked his way up through two decades of hard struggle, till at last he was the independent possessor of a very extensive business. The more the business extended, the more it increased its hold upon him, until gradually every other interest GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 425 was allowed to become merged in it. At length he was completely enmeshed in its toils, and, as we shall soon see, this surrender eventually proved his ruin. As a sort of compensation to his exclusive interest in the business, certain memories of his childhood came to life. As a child he had taken great delight in painting and drawing. But, instead of renewing this capacity for its own sake as a balancing side-interest, he canalized it into his business and began to conceive 'artistic' elaborations of his products. His phantasies unfortunately materialized: he actually began to produce after his own primitive and infantile taste, with the result that after a very few years his business went to pieces. He acted in obedience to one of our 'civilized ideals', which enjoins the energetic man to concentrate everything upon the one end in view. But he went too far, and merely fell a victim to the power of his subjective infantile claims. But the catastrophic solution may also be subjective, t.e. in the form of a nervous collapse. Such a solution always comes about as a result of the unconscious counter- influence, which can ultimately paralyse conscious action. In which case the claims of the unconscious force them- selves categorically upon consciousness, thus creating a calamitous cleavage which generally reveals itself in two ways : either the subject no longer knows what he really wants and nothing any longer interests him, or he wants too much at once and has too keen an interest but in impossible things. The suppression of infantile and primitive claims, which is often necessary on "civilized" grounds, easily leads to neurosis, or to the misuse of narcotics such as alcohol, morphine, cocaine, etc. In more extreme cases the cleavage ends in suicide. It is a salient peculiarity of unconscious tendencies that, just in so far as they are deprived of their energy by a lack of conscious recognition, they assume a correspond- 426 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES ingly destructive character, and as soon as this happens their compensatory function ceases. They cease to have a compensatory effect as soon as they reach a depth or stratum that corresponds with a level of culture absolutely incompatible with our own. From this moment the un- conscious tendencies form a block, which is opposed to the conscious attitude in every respect; such a block inevitably leads to open conflict In a general way, the compensating attitude of the unconscious finds expression in the process of psychic equilibrium. A normal extraverted attitude does not, of course, mean that the individual behaves invariably in accordance with the extraverted schema. Even in the same individual many psychological happenings may be observed, in which the mechanism of introversion is con- cerned. A habitus can be called extraverted only when the mechanism of extraversion predominates. In such a case the most highly differentiated function has a constantly extraverted application, while the inferior functions are found in the service of introversion, i.e. the more valued function, because the more conscious, is more completely subordinated to conscious control and purpose, whilst the less conscious, in other words, the partly unconscious inferior functions are subjected to conscious free choice in a much smaller degree. The superior function is always the expression of the conscious personality, its aim, its will, and its achievement, whilst the inferior functions belong to the things that happen to one. Not that they merely beget blunders, &g. lapsus linguae or lapsus calami, but they may also breed half or three-quarter resolves, since the inferior functions also possess a slight degree of consciousness. The extra- verted feeling type is a classical example of this, for he enjoys an excellent feeling rapport with his entourage, yet occasionally opinions of an incomparable tactlessness GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 427 will just happen to him. These opinions have their source in his inferior and subconscious thinking, which is only partly subject to control and is insufficiently related to the object ; to a large extent, therefore, it can operate without consideration or responsibility. In the extraverted attitude the inferior functions always reveal a highly subjective determination with pronounced egocentricity and personal bias, thus demonstrating their close connection with the unconscious. Through their agency the unconscious is continually coming to light. On no account should we imagine that the unconscious lies permanently buried under so many overlying strata that it can only be uncovered, so to speak, by a laborious process of excavation. On the contrary, there is a constant influx of the unconscious into the conscious psychological process ; at times this reaches such a pitch that the observer can decide only with difficulty which character-traits are to be ascribed to the conscious, and which to the uncon* scious personality. This difficulty occurs mainly with persons whose habit of expression errs rather on the side of profuseness. Naturally it depends very largely also upon the attitude of the observer, whether he lays hold of the conscious or the unconscious character of a personality. Speaking generally a judging observer will tend to seize the conscious character, while a perceptive observer will be influenced more by the unconscious character, since judg- ment is chiefly interested in the conscious motivation of the psychic process, while perception tends to register the mere happening. But in so far as we apply perception and judgment in equal measure, it may easily happen that a personality appears to us as both introverted and extra- verted, so that we cannot at once decide to which attitude the superior function belongs. In such cases only a thorough analysis of the function qualities can help us to a sound opinion. During the analysis we must observe which 428 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES function is placed under the control and motivation of consciousness, and which functions have an accidental and spontaneous character. The former is always more highly differentiated than the latter, which also possess many infantile and primitive qualities. Occasionally the former function gives the impression of normality, while the latter have something abnormal or pathological about them. THE PECULIARITIES OF THE BASIC PSYCHO- LOGICAL FUNCTIONS IN THE EXTRAVERTED ATTITUDE 1. Thinking As a result of the general attitude of extraversion, think- ing is orientated by the object and objective data. This orientation of thinking produces a noticeable peculiarity. Thinking in general is fed from two sources, firstly from subjective and in the last resort unconscious roots, and secondly from objective data transmitted through sense perceptions. Extraverted thinking is conditioned in a larger measure by these latter factors than by the former. Judgment always presupposes a criterion ; for the extraverted judg- ment, the valid and determining criterion is the standard taken from objective conditions, no matter whether this be directly represented by an objectively perceptible fact, or expressed in an objective idea ; for an objective idea, even when subjectively sanctioned, is equally external and objective in origin. Extraverted thinking, therefore, need not necessarily be a merely concretistic thinking ,it may equally well be a purely ideal thinking, if, for instance, it can be shown tKat the ideas with which it is engaged are to a great extent borrowed from without, i.e. are transmitted by tradition and education. The criterion of judgment, therefore, as to whether or no a thinking is extraverted, hangs directly upon the question: by GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 4*9 which standard is its judgment governed is it furnished from without, or is its origin subjective? A further criterion is afforded by the direction of the thinker's con- clusion, namely, whether or no the thinking has a pre- ferential direction outwards. It is no proof of its extra- verted nature that it is preoccupied with concrete objects, since I may be engaging my thoughts with a concrete object, either because I am abstracting my thought from it or because I am concretizing my thought with it. Even if I engage my thinking with concrete things, and to that extent could be described as extraverted, it yet remains both questionable and characteristic as regards the direc- tion my thinking will take ; namely, whether in its further course it leads back again to objective data, external facts, and generally accepted ideas, or not. So far as the practical thinking of the merchant, the engineer, or the natural science pioneer is concerned, the objective direc- tion is at once manifest. But in the case of a philosopher it is open to doubt, whenever the course of his thinking is directed towards ideas. In such a case, before deciding, we must further enquire whether these ideas are mere abstractions from objective experience, in which case they would merely represent higher collective concepts, com- prising a sum of objective facts ; or whether (if they are clearly not abstractions from immediate experience) they may not be derived from tradition or borrowed from the intellectual atmosphere of the time. In the latter event, such ideas must also belong to the category of objective data, in which case this thinking should also be called extraverted. Although I do not propose to present the nature of introverted thinking at this point, reserving it for a later section, it is, however, essential that I should make a few statements about it before going further. For if one considers strictly what I have just said concerning 430 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES extraverted thinking, one might easily conclude that such a statement includes everything that is generally under- stood as thinking. It might indeed be argued that a thinking whose aim is concerned neither with objective facts nor with general ideas scarcely merits the name 'thinking'. I am fully aware of the fact that the thought of our age, in common with its most eminent represent- atives, knows and acknowledges only the extraverted type of thinking. This is partly due to the tact tnat all thinking which attains visible form upon the world's surface, whether as science, philosophy, pr even art, either proceeds direct from objects or flows into general ideas. On either ground, although not always completely evident it at least appears essentially intelligible, and therefore relatively valid. In this sense it might be said that the extraverted intellect, fa. the mind that is orientated by objective data, is actually the only one recognized. There is also, however and now I come to the question of the introverted intellect an entirely different kind of thinking, to which the term "thinking" can hardly be denied: it is a kind that is neither orientated by the immediate objective experience nor is it concerned with general and objectively derived ideas. I reach this other kind of thinking in the following way. When my thoughts are engaged with a concrete object or general idea in such a way that the course of my thinking eventually leads me back again to my object, this intellectual process is not the only psychic proceeding taking place in me at the moment I will disregard all those possible sensations and feelings which become noticeable as a more or less disturbing accompaniment to my train of thought, merely emphasizing the fact that this very thinking process which proceeds from objective data and strives again towards the object stands also in a constant relation to the subject This relation is a conditio sine qua non, without which no think- GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 431 ing process whatsoever could take place. Even though my thinking process is directed, as far as possible, towards objective data, nevertheless it is my subjective process, and it can neither escape the subjective admixture nor yet dispense with it. Although I try my utmost to give a completely objective direction to my train of thought, even then I cannot exclude the parallel subjective process with its all-embracing participation, without extinguishing the very spark of life from my thought. This parallel sub- jective process has a natural tendency, only relatively avoidable, to subjectify objective facts, fa to assimilate them to the subject Whenever the chief value is given to the subjective process, that other kind of thinking arises which stands opposed to| extraverted thinking, namely, that purely sub- jective orientation of thought which I have termed intro- verted. A thinking arises from this other orientation that is neither determined by objective facts nor directed towards objective data a thinking, therefore, that pro- ceeds from subjective data and is directed towards sub- jective ideas or facts of a subjective character. I do not wish to enter more fully into this kind of thinking here ; I have merely established its existence for the purpose of giving a necessary complement to the extraverted thinking process, whose nature is thus brought to a clearer focus. When the objective orientation receives a certain pre- dominance, the thinking is extraverted. This circumstance changes nothing as regards the logic of thought it merely determines that difference between thinkers which James regards as a matter of temperament. The orientation towards the object, as already explained, makes no essential change in the thinking function ; only its appear- ance is altered. Since it is governed by objective data, it has the appearance of being captivated by the object, as though without the external orientation it simply could not 432 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES exist Almost it seems as though it were a sequela of external facts, or as though it could reach its highest point only when chiming in with some generally valid idea. It seems constantly to be affected by objective data, drawing only those conclusions which substantially agree with these. Thus it gives one the impression of a certain lack of freedom, of occasional short-sightedness, in spite of every kind of adroitness within the objectively circumscribed area. What I am now describing is merely the impression this sort of thinking makes upon the observer, who must himself already have a different standpoint, or it would be quite impossible for him to observe the phenomenon of extraverted thinking. As a result of his different stand- point he merely sees its aspect, not its nature; whereas the man who himself possesses this type of thinking is able to seize its nature, while its aspect escapes him. Judgment made upon appearance only cannot be fair to the essence of the thing hence the result is depreciatory. But essentially this thinking is no less fruitful and creative than introverted thinking, only its powers are in the service of other ends. This difference is perceived most clearly when extraverted thinking is engaged upon material, which is specifically an object of the subjectively orientated think- ing. This happens, for instance, when a subjective con- viction is interpreted analytically from objective facts or is regarded as a product or derivative of objective ideas. But, for our 'scientifically' orientated consciousness, the difference between the two modes of thinking becomes still more obvious when the subjectively orientated think- ing makes an attempt to bring objective data into connec- tions not objectively given, ie. to subordinate them to a subjective idea. Either senses the other as an encroach- ment, and hence a sort of shadow effect is produced, wherein either type reveals to the other its least favourable aspect The subjectively orientated thinking then appears GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 433 quite arbitrary, while the extraverted thinking seems to have an incommensurability that is altogether dull and banal. Thus the two standpoints are incessantly at war. Such a conflict, we might think, could be easily adjusted if only we clearly discriminated objects of a subjective from those of an objective nature. Unfortunately, however, such a discrimination is a matter of impossibility, although not a few have attempted it. Even if such a separation were possible, it would be a very disastrous proceeding, since in themselves both orientations are one-sided, with a definitely restricted validity ; hence they both require this mutual correction. Thought is at once sterilized, whenever thinking is brought, to any great extent, under the influence of objective data, since it becomes degraded into a mere appendage of objective facts; in which case, it is no longer able to free itself from objective data for the purpose of establishing an abstract idea. The process of thought is reduced to mere ' reflection ', not in the sense of 'meditation', but in the sense of a mere imitation that makes no essential affirmation beyond what was already visibly and immediately present in the objective data. Such a thinking-process leads naturally and directly back to the objective fact, but never beyond it ; not once, there- fore, can it lead to the coupling of experience with an objective idea. And, vice versa, when this thinking has an objective idea for its object, it is quite unable to grasp the practical individual experience, but persists in a more or less tautological position. The materialistic mentality presents a magnificent example of this. When, as the result of a reinforced objective deter- mination, extraverted thinking is subordinated to objective data, it entirely loses itself, on the one hand, in the individual experience, and proceeds to amass an accumu- lation of undigested empirical material. The oppressive mass of more or less disconnected individual experiences 434 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES produces a state of intellectual dissociation, which, on the other hand, usually demands a psychological compensation. This must consist in an idea, just as simple as it is universal, which shall give coherence to the heaped-up but intrinsically disconnected whole, or at least it should provide an inkling of such a connection. Such ideas as " matter " or "energy" are suitable for this purpose. But, whenever thinking primarily depends not so much upon external facts as upon an accepted or second-hand idea, the very poverty of the idea provokes a compensation in the form of a still more impressive accumulation of facts, which assume a one-sided grouping in keeping with the relatively restricted and sterile point of view ; whereupon many valuable and sensible aspects of things automatically go by the board. The vertiginous abundance of the s'o- called scientific literature of to-day owes a deplorably high percentage of its existence to this misorientation. 2. The Extroverted Thinking Type It is a fact of experience that all the basic psychological functions seldom or never have the same strength or grade of development in one and the same individual. As a rule, one or other function predominates, in both strength 'and development When supremacy among the psycho- logical functions is given to thinking, i.e. when the life of an individual is mainly ruled by reflective thinking so that every important action proceeds from intellectually considered motives, or when there is at least a tendency to conform to such motives, we may fairly call this a thinking type. Such a type can be either introverted or extraverted. We will first discuss the extraverUd thinking type. In accordance with his definition, we must picture a man whose constant aim in so far, of course, as he is a GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 435 pure type is to bring his total life-activities into relation with intellectual conclusions, which in the last resort are always orientated by objective data, whether objective facts or generally valid ideas. This type of man gives, the deciding voice not merely for himself alone but also on behalf of his entourage either to the actual objective reality or to its objectively orientated, intellectual formula. By this formula are good and evil measured, and beauty and ugliness determined. All is right that corresponds with this formula ; all is wrong that contradicts it ; and everything that is neutral to it is purely accidental. Because this formula seems to correspond with the mean- ing of the world, it also becomes a world-law whose realization must be achieved at all times and seasons, both individually and collectively. Just as the extraverted thinking type subordinates himself to his formula, so, for its own good, must his entourage also obey it, since the man who refuses to obey is wrong he is resisting the world-law, and is, therefore, unreasonable, immoral, and without a conscience. His moral code forbids him to tolerate exceptions ; his ideal must, under all circumstances, be realized; for in his eyes it is the purest conceivable formulation of objective reality, and, therefore, must also be generally valid truth, quite indispensable for the salvation of man. This is not from any great love for his neighbour, but from a higher standpoint of justice and truth. Everything in his own nature that appears to invalidate ibis formula is mere imperfection, an accidental miss-fire, something to be eliminated on the next occasion, or, in the event of further failure, then clearly a sickness. If tolerance for the sick, the suffering, or the deranged should chance to be an ingredient in the formula, special provisions will be devised for humane societies, hospitals, prisons, colonies, etc., or at least extensive plans for such projects. For the actual execution of these schemes the 436 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES motives of justice and truth do not, as a rule, suffice ; they still devolve upon real Christian charity, which has more to do with feeling than with any intellectual formula. * One really should ' or * one must ' figure largely in this programme. If the formula is wide enough, this type may play a very useful r61e in social life, either as a reformer or a ventilator of public wrongs or a purifier of the public conscience, or as the propagator of important innovations. But the more rigid the formula, the more does he develop into a grumbler, a crafty reasqner, and a self-righteous critic, who would like to impress both himself and others into one schema. We have now outlined two extreme figures, between which terminals the majority of these types may be graduated. In accordance with the nature of the extraverted attitude, the influence and activities of such personalities are all the more favourable and beneficent, the further one goes from the centre. Their best aspect is to be found at the periphery of their sphere of influence. The further we penetrate into their own province, the more do the unfavourable results of their tyranny impress us Another life still pulses at the periphery, where the truth of the formula can be sensed as an estimable adjunct to the rest. But the further we probe into the special sphere where the formula operates, the more do we find life ebbing away from all that fails to coincide with its dictates. Usually it is the nearest relatives who have to taste the most disagreeable results of an extraverted formula, since they are the first to be unmercifully blessed with it But above all the subject himself is the one who suffers most which brings us to the other side of the psychology of this type. The fact that an intellectual formula never has been and never will be discovered which could embrace the GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 437 abundant possibilities of life in a fitting expression must lead where such a formula is accepted to an inhibition, or total exclusion, of other highly important forms and activities of life. In the first place, all those vital forms dependent upon feeling will become repressed in such a type, as, for instance, aesthetic activities, taste, artistic sense, the art of friendship, etc. Irrational forms such as religious experiences, passions and the like, are ofteti obliterated even to the point of complete unconsciousness. These, conditionally quite important, forms of life have to support an existence that is largely unconscious. Doubt- less there are exceptional men who are able to sacrifice their entire life to one definite formula ; but for most of us a permanent life of such exclusiveness is impossible. Sooner or later in accordance with outer circumstances and inner gifts the forms of life repressed by the intel- lectual attitude become indirectly perceptible, through a gradual disturbance of the conscious conduct of life. Whenever disturbances of this kind reach a definite intensity, one speaks of a neurosis. In most cases, how- ever, it does not go so far, because the individual in- stinctively allows himself some preventive extenuations of his formula, worded, of course, in a suitable and reasonable way. In this way a safety-valve is created. The relative or total unconsciousness of such tendencies or functions as are excluded from any partici- pation in the conscious attitude keeps them in a relatively undeveloped state. As compared with the conscious function they are inferior. To the extent that they are unconscious, they become merged with the remaining contents of the unconscious, from which they acquire a bizarre character. To the extent that they are conscious, they only play a secondary r&le, although one of con- siderable importance for the whole psychological picture. Since feelings are the first to oppose and contradict 438 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES the rigid intellectual formula, they are affected first by this conscious inhibition, and upon them the most intense repression falls. No function can be entirely eliminated it can only be greatly distorted. In so far as feelings allow themselves to be arbitrarily shaped and sub- ordinated, they have to support the intellectual conscious attitude and adapt themselves to its aims. Only to a certain degree, however, is this possible ; a part of the feeling remains insubordinate, and therefore must be repressed. Should the repression succeed, it disappears from consciousness and proceeds to unfold a subconscious activity, which runs counter to conscious aims, even producing effects whose causation is a complete enigma to the individual. For example, conscious altruism, often of an extremely high order, may be crossed by a secret self-seeking, of which the individual is wholly unaware, and which impresses intrinsically unselfish actions with the stamp of selfishness. Purely ethical aims may lead the individual into critical situations, which sometimes have more than a semblance of being decided by quite other than ethical motives. There are guardians of public morals or voluntary rescue-workers who suddenly find themselves in deplorably compromising situations, or in dire need of rescue. Their resolve to save often leads them to employ means which only tend to precipitate what they most desire to avoid. There are extraverted idealists, whose desire to advance the salvation of man is so consuming that they will not shrink from any lying and dishonest means in the pursuit of their ideal There are a few painful examples in science where investigators of the highest esteem, from a profound conviction of the truth and general validity of their formula, have not scrupled to falsify evidence in favour of their ideal. This is sanctioned by the formula ; the end justifieth the means. Only an inferior feeling-function, operating seductively GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 439 and unconsciously, could bring about such aberrations in otherwise reputable men. The inferiority of feeling in this type manifests itself also in other ways. In so far' as it corresponds with the dominating positive formula, the conscious attitude becomes more or less impersonal, often, indeed, to such a degree that a very considerable wrong is done to personal interests. When the conscious attitude is extreme, all personal considerations recede from view, even those which concern the individual's own person. His health is neglected, his social position deteriorates, often the most vital interests of his family are violated they are wronged morally and financially, even their bodily health is made to suffer all in the service of the ideal. At all events personal sympathy with others must be impaired, unless they too chance to be in the service of the same formula. Hence it not infrequently happens that his immediate family circle, his own children for . instance, only know such a father as a cruel tyrant, whilst the outer world resounds with the fame of his humanity. Not so much in spite of as because of the highly impersonal character of the conscious attitude, the un- conscious feelings are highly personal and oversensitive, giving rise to certain secret prejudices, as, for instance, a decided readiness to misconstrue any objective opposi- tion to his formula as personal ill-will, or a constant tendency to make negative suppositions regarding the qualities of others in order to invalidate their arguments beforehand in defence, naturally, of his own susceptibility. As a result of this unconscious sensitiveness, his expression and tone frequently becomes sharp, pointed, aggressive, and insinuations multiply. The feelings have an untimely and halting character, which is always a mark of the inferior function. Hence arises a pronounced tendency to resentment However generous the individual sacrifice 440 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES to the intellectual goal may be, the feelings are correspond- ingly petty, suspicious, crossgrained, and conservative. Everything new that is not already contained in the formula is viewed through a veil of unconscious hatred, and is judged accordingly. It happened only in the middle of last century that a certain physician, famed for his humanitarianism, threatened to dismiss an assistant for daring to use a thermometer, because the formula decreed that fever shall be recognized by the pulse. There are, of course, a host of similar examples. Thinking which in other respects may be altogether blameless becomes all the more subtly and prejudicially affected, the more feelings are repressed. An intellectual standpoint, which, perhaps on account of its actual intrinsic value, might justifiably claim general recognition, under- goes a characteristic alteration through the influence of this unconscious personal sensitiveness ; it becomes rigidly dogmatic. The personal self-assertion is transferred to the intellectual standpoint. Truth is no longer left to work her natural effect, but through an identification with the subject she is treated like a sensitive darling whom an evil-minded critic has wronged. The critic is demolished, if possible with personal invective, and no argument is too gross to be used against him. Truth must be trotted out, until finally it begins to dawn upon the public that it is not so much really a question of truth as of her personal procreator. The dogmatism of the intellectual standpoint, however, occasionally undergoes still further peculiar modifications from the unconscious admixture of unconscious personal feelings ; these changes are less a question of feeling, in the stricter sense, than of contamination from other un- conscious factors which become blended with the repressed feeling in the unconscious. Although reason itself offers proof, that every intellectual -formula can be no more than GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 441 a partial truth, and can never lay claim, therefore, to autocratic authority; in practice, the formula obtains so great an ascendancy that, beside it, every other standpoint and possibility recedes into the background. It replaces all the more general, less defined, hence the more modest and truthful, views of life. It even takes the place of that general view of life which we call religion. Thus the formula becomes a religion, although in essentials it has not the smallest connection with anything religious. Therewith it also gains the essentially religious character of absoluteness. It becomes, as it were, an intellectual superstition. But now all those psychological tendencies that suffer under its repression become grouped together in the unconscious, and form a counter-position, giving rise to paroxysms of doubt. As a defence against doubt, the conscious attitude grows fanatical. For fanaticism, after all, is merely overcompensated doubt Ultimately this development leads to an exaggerated defence of the conscious position, and to the gradual formation of an absolutely antithetic unconscious position ; for example, an extreme irrationality develops, in opposition to the conscious rationalism, or it becomes highly archaic and superstitious, in opposition to a conscious standpoint imbued with modern science. This fatal opposition is the source of those narrow-minded and ridiculous views, familiar to the historians of science, into which many praiseworthy pioneers have ultimately blundered. It riot infrequently happens in a man of this type that the side of the unconscious becomes embodied in a woman. In my experience, this type, which is doubtless familiar to my readers, is chiefly found among men, since thinking tends to be a much more dominant function in men than in women. As a rule, when thinking achieves the mastery in women, it is, in my experience, a kind of thinking which results from a prevailingly intuitive activity of mind. p* 44* GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES The thought of the extraverted thinking type Is positive, i.e. It produces. It either leads to new facts or to general conceptions of disparate experimental material. Its judgment is generally synthetic. Even when it analyses, it constructs, because it is always advancing beyond the analysis to a new combination, a further conception which re-unites the analysed material in a new way or adds some- thing further to the given material. In general, therefore, we may describe this kind of judgment as predicative. It is, in any case, characteristic that it is never absolutely depre- ciatory or destructive, but always substitutes a fresh value for one that is demolished* This quality is due to the fact that thought is the main channel into which a thinking-type's energy flows. Life steadily advancing shows itself in the man's thinking, so that his ideas main- tain a progressive, creative character. His thinking neither stagnates, nor is it in the least regressive. Such qualities cling only to a thinking that is not given priority in consciousness. In this event it is relatively unimportant, and also lacks the character of a positive vital activity. It follows in the wake of other functions, it becomes Epimethean, it has an ' esprit de 1'escalier ' quality, content- ing itself with constant ponderings and broodings upon things past and gone, in an effort to analyse and digest them. Where the creative element, as in this case, inhabits another function, thinking no longer progresses : it stagnates. Its judgment takes on a decided inherency-character, ie. it entirely confines itself to the range of the given material, nowhere overstepping it It is contented with a more or less abstract statement, and fails to impart any value to the experimental material that was not already there. The inherency-judgment of such extraverted thinking is objectively orientated, i.e. its conclusion always expresses the objective importance of experience. Hence, not only does it remain under the orientating influence of objective GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 443 data, but it actually rests within the charmed circle of the individual experience, about which it affirms nothing that was. not already given by it. We may easily observe this thinking in those people who cannot refrain from tacking on to . an impression or experience some rational and doubtless very valid remark, which, however, in no way adventures beyond the given orbit of the experience. At bottom, such a remark merely says ' I have understood it I can reconstruct it.' But there the matter also ends. At its very highest, such a judgment signifies merely the placing of an experience in an objective setting, whereby the experience is at once recognized as belonging to the frame. Bift whenever a function other than thinking possesses priority in consciousness to any marked degree, in so far as thinking is conscious at all and not directly dependent upon the dominant function,, it assumes a negative character. In so far as it is subordinated to the dominant function, it may actually wear a positive aspect, but a narrower scrutiny will easily prove that it simply mimics the dominant function, supporting it with arguments that unmistakably contradict the laws of logic proper to thinking. Such a thinking, therefpre, ceases to have any interest for our present discussion. Our concern is rather with ,the constitution of that thinking which cannot be subordinated to the dominance of another function, but remains true to its own principle. To observe and investigate this thinking in itself is not easy, since, in the concrete case, it is more or less constantly repressed by the conscious attitude. Hence, in the majority of cases, it first must be retrieved from the background of con- sciousness, unless in some unguarded moment it should chance to come accidentally to the surface. As a rule, it must be enticed with some such questions as c Now what do you really think 7 ' or, again, ' What is your private view 444 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES about the matter? 1 Or perhaps one may even have to use a little cunning, framing the question something like this: 'What do you imagine, then, that 7 really think about the matter?' This latter form should be chosen when the real thinking is unconscious and, therefore, projected. The thinking that is enticed to the surface in this way has characteristic qualities ; it was these I had in mind just now when I described it as negative. Its habitual mode is best characterized by the two words 'nothing, but'. Goethe personified this thinking in the figure of Mephistopheles. It shows a most distinct tendency to trace back the object of its judgment to some banality or other, thus stripping it of its own independent significance. This happens simply because it is repre- sented as being dependent upon some other commonplace thing. Wherever a conflict, apparently essential in nature, arises between two men, negative thinking mutters 'Cherchez la femme'. When a man champions or ad- vocates a cause, negative thinking makes no inquiry as to the importance of the thing, but merely asks c How much does he make by it ? ' The dictum ascribed to Moleschott : " Der Mensch ist, was er isst " (" Man is what he eats ") also belongs to this collection, as do many more aphorisms and opinions which I need not enumerate. The destructive quality of this thinking as well as its occasional and limited usefulness, hardly need further elucidation. But there still exists another form of negative thinking, which at first glance perhaps would scarcely be recognized as such : I refer to the theosopMcoA thinking which is to-day rapidly spreading in every quarter of the globe, presumably as a reaction phenomenon to the materialism of the epoch now receding. Theo- sophical thinking has an air that is not in the least reductive, since it exalts everything to transcendental and world-embracing ideas. A dream, for instance, is no GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 445 longer a modest dream, but an experience upon * another plane'. The hitherto inexplicable fact of telepathy is very simply explained by * vibrations ' which pass from one man to another. An ordinary .nervous trouble is quite simply accounted for by -the fact that something has collided with the astral body. Certain anthropological peculiarities of the dwellers on the Atlantic seaboard are easily explained by the submerging of Atlantis, and so on. We have merely to open a theosophical book to be over- whelmed by the realization that everything is already explained, and that ' spiritual science ' has left no enigmas of life unsolved. But, fundamentally, this sort of thinking is just as negative as materialistic thinking. When the latter conceives psychology as chemical changes taking place in the cell-ganglia, or as the extrusion and with- drawal of cell-processes, or as an internal secretion, in essence this is just as superstitious as theosophy. The only difference lies in the fact that materialism reduces all phenomena to our current physiological notions, while theosophy brings everything into the concepts of Indian metaphysics. When we trace the dream to an overloaded stomach, the dream is not thereby explained, and when we explain telepathy as 'vibrations', we have said just as little. Since, what are ' vibrations ' ? Not only are both methods of explanation quite impotent they are actually destructive, because by interposing their seeming explana- tions they withdraw interest from the problem, diverting it in the former case to the stomach, and in the latter to imaginary vibrations, thus preventing any serious in- vestigation of the problem. Either land of thinking is both sterile and sterilizing. Their negative quality con- sists in this : it is a method of thought that is indescrib- ably cheap ; there is a real poverty of productive and creative energy. It is a thinking taken in tow by other functions. 446 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 3. Feeling Feeling in the extraverted attitude is orientated by objective data, t.e. the object is the indispensable deter- minant of the kind of feeling. It agrees with objective values. If one has always known feeling as a subjective fact, the nature of extraverted feeling will not immediately be understood, since it has freed itself as fully as possible from the subjective factor, and has, instead, become wholly subordinated to the influence of the object. Even where it seems to show a certain independence of the quality of the concrete object, it is none the less under the spell of traditional or generally valid standards of some sort I may feel constrained, for instance, to use the predicate 'beautiful' or 'good', not because I find the object 'beautiful' or 'good' from my own subjective feeling, but because it is fitting and politic so to do ; and fitting it certainly is, inasmuch as a contrary opinion would disturb the general feeling situation. A feeling-judgment such as this is in no way a simulation or a lie it is merely an act of accommodation. A picture, for instance, may be termed beautiful, because a picture that is hung in a drawing-room and bearing a well-known signature is generally assumed to be beautiful, or because the predicate c ugly' might offend the family of the fortunate possessor, or because there is a benevolent intention on the part of the visitor to create a pleasant feeling-atmosphere, to which end everything must be felt as agreeable. Such feelings are governed by the standard of the objective determinants. As such they are genuine, and represent the total visible feeling-function. In precisely the same way as extraverted thinking strives to rid itself of subjective influences, extraverted feeling has also to undergo a certain process of differentia- tion, before it is finally denuded of every subjective GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 447 trimming. The valuations resulting from the act of feeling either correspond directly with objective values or at least chime in with certain traditional and generally known standards of value. This kind of feeling is very largely responsible for the fact that so many people flock to the theatre, to concerts, or to Church, and what is more, with correctly adjusted positive feelings. Fashions, too, owe their existence to it, and, what is far more valuable, the whole positive and wide-spread support of social, philan- thropic, and such like cultural enterprises. In such matters, extraverted feeling proves itself a creative factor. Without this feeling, for instance, a beautiful and har- monious sociability would be unthinkable. So far extra- verted feeling is just as beneficent and rationally effective as extraverted thinking. But this salutary effect is lost as soon as the object gains an exaggerated influence. For, when this happens, extraverted feeling draws the personality too much into the object, i.e. the object assimilates the person, whereupon the personal character of the feeling, which constitutes its principal charm, is lost Feeling then becomes cold, material, untrustworthy. It betrays a secret aim, or at least arouses the suspicion of it in an impartial observer. No longer does it make that welcome and refreshing impression the invariable accompaniment of genuine feeling; instead, one scents a pose or affectation, although Jhe egocentric motive may be entirely unconscious. Such overstressed, extraverted feeling certainly fulfils aesthetic expectations, but no longer does it speak to the heart ; it merely appeals to the senses, or worse still to the reason. Doubtless it can provide aesthetic padding for a situation, but there it stops, and beyond that its effect is nil. It has become sterile. Should this process go further, a strangely contradictory dissociation of feeling develops ; every object is seized upon with feeling- 448 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES valuations, and numerous relationships are made which are inherently and mutually incompatible. Since such aberrations would be quite impossible if a sufficiently emphasized subject were present, the last vestige of a real personal standpoint also becomes suppressed. The subject becomes so swallowed up in individual feeling processes that to the observer it seems as though there were no longer a subject of feeling but merely a feeling process. In such a condition feeling has entirely forfeited its original human warmth, it gives an impression of pose, inconstancy, unreliability, and in the worst cases appears definitely hysterical. 4. The Extraverted Feeling-Type In so far as feeling is, incontestably, a more obvious peculiarity of feminine psychology than thinking, the most pronounced feeling-types are also to be found among women. When extraverted feeling possesses the priority we speak of an extraverted feeling-type. Examples of this type that I can call to mind are, almost without exception, women. She is a woman who follows the guiding-line of her feeling. As the result of education her feeling has become developed into an adjusted function, subject to conscious control. Except in extreme cases, feeling has a personal character, in spite of the fact that the subjective factor may be already, to a large extent, repressed. The personality appears to be adjusted in relation to objective conditions. Her feelings corre- spond with objective situations and general values. Nowhere is this more clearly revealed than in the so- called Move-choice 1 ; the 'suitable' man is loved, not another one ; he is suitable not so much because he fully accords with the fundamental character of the woman as a rule she is quite uninformed about this but because GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 449 he meticulously corresponds in standing, age, capacity, height, and family respectability with every reasonable requirement. Such a formulation might, of course, be easily rejected as ironical or depreciatory, were I not fully convinced that the love-feeling of this type of woman completely corresponds with her choice. It is genuine, and not merely intelligently manufactured. Such ' reason- able* marriages exist without number, and they are by no means the worst Such women are good comrades to their husbands and excellent mothers, so long as husbands or children possess the conventional psychic constitution. One can feel 'correctly ', however, only when feeling is disturbed by nothing else. But nothing disturbs feeling so much as thinking. It is at once intelligible, therefore, that this type should repress thinking as much as possible. This does not mean to say that such a woman does not think at all ; on the contrary, she may even think a great deal and very ably, but her thinking is never sui generis; it is, in fact, an Epimethean appendage to her feeling. What she cannot feel, she cannot consciously think. 'But I can't think what I don't feel 1 , such a type said to me once in indignant tones. . As far as feeling permits, she can think very well, but every conclusion, however logical, that might lead to a disturbance of feeling is rejected from the outset It is simply not thought. And thus everything that corre- sponds with objective valuations is good: these things are loved or treasured; the rest seems merely to exist in a world apart. But a change comes over the picture when the importance of the object reaches a still higher level. As already explained above, such an assimilation of subject to object then occurs as almost completely to engulf the subject of feeling. Feeling loses its personal character it becomes feeling per se ; it almost seems as though the 450 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES personality were wholly dissolved in the feeling of the moment Now, since in actual life situations constantly and successively alternate, in which the feeling-tones released are not only different but are actually mutually contrasting, the personality inevitably becomes dissipated in just so many different feelings. Apparently, he is this one moment, and something completely different the next apparently, I repeat, for in reality such a manifold personality is altogether impossible. The basis of the ego always remains identical with itself, and, therefore, appears definitely opposed to the changing states of feeling. Accordingly the observer senses the display of feeling not so much as a personal expression ot the feeling-subject as an alteration of his ego, a mood, in other words. Corresponding with the degree of dis- sociation between the ego and the momentary state of feeling, signs of disunion with the self will become more or less evident, <.& the original compensatory attitude of the unconscious becomes a manifest opposition. This reveals itself, in the first instance, in extravagant demon- strations of feeling, in loud and obtrusive feeling predicates, which leave one, however, somewhat incredulous. They ring hollow ; they are not convincing. On the contrary, they at once give one an inkling of a resistance that is being overcompensated, and one begins to wonder whether such a feeling-judgment .might not just as well be entirely different. In fact, in a very short time it actually ts different. Only a very slight alteration in the situation is needed to provoke forthwith an entirely contrary estima- tion of the selfsame object. The result of such an experience is that the observer is unable to take either judgment at all seriously. He begins to reserve his own opinion. But since, with this type, it is a matter of the greatest moment to establish an intensive feeling rapport with his environment, redoubled efforts are now required GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 451 to overcome this reserve. Thus, in the manner of the circulus vitiosus, the situation goes from bad to worse. The more the feeling relation with the object becomes overstressed, the nearer the unconscious opposition approaches the surface. We have already seen that the extraverted feeling type, as a rule, represses his thinking, just because thinking is the function most liable to disturb feeling. Similarly, when thinking seeks to arrive at pure results of any kind, its first act is to exclude feeling, since nothing is calculated to harass and falsify thinking so much as feeling-values. Thinking, therefore, in so far as it is an independent function, is repressed in the extraverted feeling type. Its repression, as I observed before, is complete only in so far as its inexorable logic forces it to conclusions that are incompatible with feeling. It is suffered to exist as the servant of feeling, or more accurately its slave. Its back- bone is broken ; it may not operate on its own account, in accordance with its own laws. Now, since a logic exists producing inexorably right conclusions, this must happen somewhere, although beyond the bounds of con- sciousness, i.e. in the unconscious. Pre-eminently, there- fore, the unconscious content of this type is a particular kind of thinking. It is an infantile, archaic, and negative thinking. So long as conscious feeling preserves the personal character, or, in other words, so long as the personality does not become swallowed up by successive states of feeling, this unconscious thinking remains compensatory. But as soon as the personality is dissociated, becoming dispersed in mutually contradictory states of feeling, the identity of the ego is lost, and the subject becomes un- conscious. But, because of the subject's "lapse into the unconscious, it becomes associated with the unconscious thinking - function, therewith assisting the unconscious 4.5* GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES thought to occasional consciousness. The stronger the conscious feeling relation, and therefore, the more 'de- personalized/ it becomes, the stronger grows the uncon- scious opposition. This reveals itself in the fact that unconscious ideas centre round just the most valued objects, which are thus pitilessly stripped of their value. That thinking which always thinks in the ' nothing but' style is in its right place here, since it destroys the ascendancy of the feeling that is chained to the object. Unconscious thought reaches the surface in the form of irruptions, often of an obsessing nature, the general character of which is always negative and depreciatory. Women of this type have moments when the most hideous thoughts fasten upon the very objects most valued by their feelings. This negative thinking avails itself of every infantile prejudice or parallel that is calculated to breed doubt in the feeling-value, and it tows every primitive instinct along with it, in the effort to make 'a nothing but* interpretation of the feeling. At this point, it is perhaps in the nature of a side-remark to observe that the collective unconscious, i.e. the totality of the primordial images, also becomes enlisted in the same manner, and from the elaboration and development" of these images there dawns the possibility of a regeneration of the attitude upon another basis. Hysteria, with the characteristic infantile sexuality of its unconscious world of ideas, is the principal form of neurosis with this type. 5. Recapitulation of Extroverted Rational Types I term the two preceding types rational or judging types because they are characterized by the supremacy of the reasoning and the judging functions. It is a general distinguishing mark of both types that their life is, to a GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 453 large extent, subordinated to reasoning judgment But we must not overlook the point, whether by 'reasoning 1 we are referring to the standpoint of the individual's subjective psychology, or to the standpoint of the observer, who perceives and judges from without. For such an observer could easily arrive at an opposite judgment, especially if he has a merely intuitive apprehension of the behaviour of the observed, and judges accordingly. In its totality, the life of this type is never dependent upon reasoning judgment alone ; it is influenced in almost equal degree by unconscious irrationality. If observation is restricted to behaviour, without any concern for the domestic interior of the individual's consciousness, one may get an even stronger impression of the irrational and accidental character of certain unconscious manifesta- tions in the individual's behaviour than of the reasonableness of his conscious purposes and motivations. I, therefore, base my judgment upon what the individual feels to be his conscious psychology. But I am prepared to grant that we may equally well entertain a precisely opposite conception of such a psychology, and present it accordingly. I am also convinced that, had I myself chanced to possess a different individual psychology, I should have described the rational types in the reversed way, from the standpoint of the unconscious as irrational, therefore. This circum- stance aggravates the difficulty of a lucid presentation of psychological matters to a degree not to be underestimated, and immeasurably increases the possibility of misunder- standings. The discussions which develop from these misunderstandings are, as a rule, quite hopeless, since the real issue is never joined, each side speaking, as it were, in a different tongue. Such experience is merely one reason the more for basing my presentation upon the subjective conscious psychology of the individual, since there, at least, one bas a definite objective footing, which completely 454 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES drops away the moment we try to ground psychological principles upon the unconscious. For the observed, in this case, could undertake no kind of co-operation, because there is nothing of which he is not more informed than his own unconscious. The judgment would entirely devolve upon the observer a certain guarantee that its basis would be his own individual psychology, which would infallibly be imposed upon the observed. To my mind, this is the case in the psychologies both of Freud and of Adler. The individual is completely at the mercy of the arbitrary discretion of his observing critic which can never be the case when the conscious psychology of the observed is accepted as the basis. After all, he is the only competent judge, since he alone knows his own motives. The reasonableness that characterizes the conscious management of life in both these types, involves a conscious exclusion of the accidental and non-rational. Reasoning judgment, in such a psychology, represents a power that coerces the untidy and accidental things of life into definite forms ; such at least is its aim. Thus, on the one hand, a definite choice is made among the possibilities of life, since only the rational choice is consciously accepted ; but, on the other hand, the independence and influence of those psychic functions which perceive life's happenings are essentially restricted. This limitation of sensation and intuition is, of course, not absolute. These functions exist, for they are universal ; but their products are subject to the choice of the reasoning judgment. It is not the absolute strength of sensation, for instance, which turns the scales in the motivation of action, but judgment Thus, in a certain sense, the perceiving-functions share the same fate as feeling in the case of the first type, or thinking in that of the second. They are relatively repressed, and therefore in an inferior state of differentiation. This circumstance gives a particular stamp to the unconscious GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES of both our types ; what such men do consciously and intentionally accords with reason (their reason of course), but what happens to them corresponds either with infantile, primitive sensations, or with similarly archaic intuitions. I will try to make clear what I mean by these latter concepts in the sections that follow. At all events, that which happens to this type is irrational (from their own standpoint of course). Now, since there are vast numbers of men whose lives consist in what happens to them more than in actions resulting from reasoned intention, it might conceivably happen, that such a man, after careful analysis, would describe both our types as irrational. We must grant him, however, that only too often a man's uncon- scious makes a far stronger impression upon one than his conscious, and that his actions often have considerably more weight and meaning than his reasoned motivations. The rationality of both types is orientated objectively, and depends upon objective data* Their reasonableness corresponds with what passes as reasonable from the collective standpoint Subjectively they consider nothing rational save what is generally considered as such. But reason is also very largely subjective and individual. In our case this share is repressed increasingly so, in fact, the more the significance of the object is exalted. Both the subject and subjective reason, therefore, are always threatened with repression ; and, when it descends, they fall under the tyranny of the unconscious, which in this case possesses most unpleasant qualities. We have already spoken of its thinking. But, in addition, there are primitive sensations, which reveal themselves in compulsive forms, as, for instance, an abnormal compulsive pleasure- seeking in every conceivable direction; there are also primitive intuitions, which can become a positive torture to the individuals concerned, not to mention their entourage. Everything disagreeable and painful, everything disgusting, 45* GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES ugly, and evil is scented out or suspected, and these as a rule only correspond with half-truths, than which nothing is more calculated to create misunderstandings of the most poisonous kind. The powerful influence of the opposing unconscious contents necessarily brings about a frequent interruption of the rational conscious government, namely, a striking subservience to the element of chance, so that, either by virtue of their sensational value or unconscious significance, accidental happenings acquire a compelling influences 6. Sensation Sensation, in the extraverted attitude, is most definitely conditioned by the object As sense-perception, sensation is naturally dependent upon the object But, just as naturally, it is also dependent upon the subject; hence, there is also a subjective sensation, which after its kind is entirely different from the objective. In the extraverted attitude this subjective share of sensation, in so far as its conscious application is concerned, is either inhibited or repressed. As an irrational function, sensation is equally repressed, whenever a rational function, e.g. thinking or feeling, possesses the priority, i.e. it can be said to have a conscious function, only in so far as the rational attitude of consciousness permits accidental perceptions to become conscious contents; in short, realizes them. The function of sense is, of course, absolute in the stricter sense; for example, everything is seen or heard to the farthest physiological possibility, but not everything attains that threshold value which a perception must possess in order to be also apperceived. It is a different matter when sensation itself possesses priority, instead of merely seconding another function. In this case, no element of objective sensation is excluded and nothing repressed (with the exception of the subjective share GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 457 already mentioned). Sensation has a preferential objec- tive determination, and those objects which release the strongest sensation are decisive for the individual's psychology. The result of this is a pronounced sensuous hold to the object Sensation, therefore, is a vital function, equipped with the potentest vital instinct In so far as objects release sensations, they matter ; and, in so far as it lies within the power of sensation, they are also fully accepted into consciousness, whether compatible with reasoned judgment or not As a function its sole criterion of value is the strength of the sensation as conditioned by its objective qualities. Accordingly, all objective pro- cesses, in so far as they release sensations at all, make their appearance in consciousness. It is, however, only concrete, sensuously perceived objects or processes which excite sensations in the extraverted attitude ; exclusively those, in fact, which everyone in all times and places would sense as concrete. Hence, the orientation of such an individual corresponds with purely concrete reality. The judging, rational functions are subordinated to the concrete facts of sensation, and, accordingly, possess the qualities of inferior differentiation, M they are marked by a certain negativity, with infantile and archaic tendencies. The function most affected by the repression, is, naturally, the one standing opposite to sensation, viz. intuition, the function of unconscious perception. 7. The Extraverted Sensation Type No other human type can equal the extraverted sensation-type in realism. His sense for objective facts is extraordinarily developed. His life is an accumulation of actual experience with concrete objects, and the more pronounced he is, the less use does he make of his expert ence. In certain cases the events of his life hardly deserve 458 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES the name c experience '. He knows no better use for this sensed * experience * than to make it serve as a guide to fresh sensations ; anything in the least ' new ' that comes within his circle of interest is forthwith turned to a sensational account and is made to serve this end. In so far as one is disposed to regard a highly developed sense for sheer actuality as very reasonable, will such men be esteemed rational. In reality, however, this is by no means the case, since they are equally subject to the sensation of irrational, chance happenings, as they are to rational behaviour. Such a type the majority are men apparently does not, of course, believe himself to be ' subject ' to sensation. He would be much more inclined to ridicule this view as altogether inconclusive, since, from his standpoint, sensation is the concrete manifestation of life it is simply the fulness of actual living. His aim is concrete enjoyment, and his morality is similarly orientated. For true enjoyment has its own special morality, its own moderation and lawfulness, its own unselfishness and devotedness. It by no means follows that he is just sensual or gross, for he may differentiate his sensation to the finest pitch of aesthetic purity without being the least unfaithful, even in his most abstract sensations, to his principle of objective sensation. Wulfen's Cicerone des rilcksichtlosen Lcbensgenusses is the unvarnished confession of a type of this sort From this point of view the book seems to me worth reading. Upon the lower levels this is the man of tangible reality, with little tendency either for reflection or com- manding purpose. To sense the object, to have and if possible to enjoy sensations, is his constant motive. He is by no means unlovable ; on the contrary, he frequently has a charming and lively capacity for enjoyment; he is sometimes a jolly fellow, and often a refined aesthete. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 459 In the former case, the great problems of life hinge upon a good or indifferent dinner; in the latter, they are questions of good taste. When he 'senses', everything essential has been said and done. Nothing can be more than concrete and actual; conjectures that transcend or go beyond the concrete are only permitted on condition that they enhance sensation. This need not be in any way a pleasurable reinforcement, since this type is not a common voluptuary; he merely desires the strongest sensation, and this, by his very nature, he can receive only from without What comes from within seems to him morbid and objectionable. In so far as he thinks and feels, he always reduces down to objective foundations, i.e. to influences coming from the object, quite unperturbed by the most violent departures from logic. Tangible reality, under any conditions, makes him breathe again. In this respect he is unexpectedly credulous. He will, without hesitation, relate an obvious psychogenic symptom to the falling barometer, while the existence of a psychic conflict seems to him a fantastic abnormality. His love is incontestably rooted in the manifest attractions of the object. In so far as he is normal, he is conspicuously adjusted to positive reality-r-conspicuously, because his adjustment is always visible. His ideal is the actual ; in this respect he is considerate. He has no ideals related to ideas he has, therefore, no sort of ground for maintain- ing a hostile attitude towards the reality of things and facts. This .expresses itself in all the externals of his life. He dresses well, according to his circumstances ; he keeps a good table for his friends, who are either made comfortable or at .least given to understand that his fastidious taste is obliged to impose certain claims upon his entourage. He even convinces one that certain sacrifices are decidedly worth while for the sake of style. But the more sensation predominates, so that the 460 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES sensing subject disappears behind the sensation, the more unsatisfactory does this type become. Either he develops into a crude pleasure-seeker or he becomes an unscrupulous, designing sybarite. Although the object is entirely indispensable to him, yet, as something existing in and through itself, it is none the less depreciated It is ruthlessly violated and essentially ignored, since now its sole use is to stimulate sensation. The hold upon the object is pushed to the utmost limit The unconscious is, accordingly, forced out of its metier as a compensatory function and driven into open opposition. But, above all, the repressed intuitions begin to assert themselves in the form of projections upon the object. The strangest con- jectures arise; in the case of a sexual object, jealous phantasies and anxiety-states play a great r61e. More acute cases develop every sort of phobia, and especially compulsive symptoms. The pathological contents have a remarkable air of unreality, with a frequent moral or religious colouring. A pettifogging captiousness often develops, or an absurdly scrupulous morality coupled with a primitive, superstitious and c magical ' religiosity, harking back to abstruse rites. All these things have their source in the repressed inferior functions, which, in such cases, stand in harsh opposition to the conscious standpoint; they wear, in fact, an aspect that is all the more striking because they appear to rest upon the most absurd sup- positions, in complete contrast to the conscious sense of reality. The whole culture of thought and feeling seems, in this second personality, to be twisted into a morbid primitiveness; reason is hair-splitting sophistry morality is dreary moralizing and palpable Pharisaism religion is absurd superstition intuition, the noblest of human gifts, is a mere personal subtlety, a sniffing into every corner; instead of searching the horizon, it recedes to the narrowest gauge of human meanness. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 461 The specially compulsive character of the neurotic symptoms represent the unconscious counterweight to the laisser aller morality of a purely sensational attitude, which, from the standpoint of rational judgment, accepts without discrimination, everything that happens. Although this lack of basic principles in the sensation-type does not argue an absolute lawlessness and lack of restraint, it at least deprives him of the quite essential restraining power of judgment. Rational judgment represents a conscious coercion, which the rational type appears to impose upon himself of his own free will. This compul- sion overtakes the sensation-type from the unconscious. Moreover, the rational type's link to the object, from the very existence of a judgment, never means such an un- conditioned relation as that which the sensation-type has with the object When his attitude reaches an abnormal one-sidedness, he is in danger of falling just as deeply into the arms of the unconscious as he consciously clings to the object. When he becomes neurotic, he is much harder to treat in the rational way, because the functions to which the physician must appeal are in a relatively undifferentiated state; hence little or no trust can be placed in them. Special means of bringing emotional pressure to bear are often needed to make him at all conscious. 8. Intuition Intuition as the function of unconscious perception is wholly directed upon outer objects in the extraverted attitude. Because, in the main, intuition is an unconscious process, the conscious apprehension of its nature is a very difficult matter. In consciousness, the intuitive function is represented by a certain attitude of expectation, a perceptive and penetrating vision, wherein only the sub- sequent result can prove, in every case, how much was 46a GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES ' perceived-into ', and how much actually lay in the object Just as sensation, when given the priority, is not a mere reactive process of no further importance for the object, but is almost an action which seizes and shapes the object, so it is with intuition, which is by no means a mere perception, or awareness, but an active, creative process that builds into the object just as much as it takes out. But, because this process extracts the perception unconsciously, it also produces an unconscious effect in the object The primary function of intuition is to transmit mere images, or perceptions of relations and conditions, which could be gained by the other functions, either not at all, or only by very roundabout ways. Such images have the value of definite discernments, and have a decisive bearing upon action, whenever intuition is given the chief weight; in which case, psychic adaptation is based almost exclusively upon intuition. Thinking, feeling, and sensation are relatively repressed ; of these, sensation is the one principally affected, because, as the conscious function of sense, it offers the greatest obstacle to intuition. Sensation disturbs intuition's dear, unbiassed, naive aware- ness with its importunate sensuous stimuli; for these direct the glance upon the physical superficies, hence upon the very things round and beyond which intuition tries to peer. But since intuition, in the extraverted attitude, has a prevailingly objective orientation, it actually comes very near to sensation ; indeed, the expectant attitude towards outer objects may, with almost equal probability, avail itself of sensation. Hence, for intuition really to become paramount, sensation must to a large extent be suppressed. I am now speaking of sensation as the simple and direct sense-reaction, an almost definite physiological and psychic datum. This must be expressly established beforehand, because, if I ask the intuitive how he is GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 463 orientated, he will speak of things which are quite in- distinguishable from sense-perceptions. Frequently he will even make use of the term ' sensation '. He actually has sensations, but he is not guided by them per se, merely using them as directing-points for his distant vision. They are selected by unconscious expectation. Not the strongest sensation, in the physiological sense, obtains the crucial value, but any sensation whatsoever whose value happens to become considerably enhanced by reason of the intuitive's unconscious attitude. In this way it may eventually attain the leading position, appearing to the intuitive's consciousness indistinguishable from a pure sensation. But actually it is not so. Just as extraverted sensation strives to reach the highest pitch of actuality, because only thus can the appearance of a complete life be created, so intuition tries to encompass the greatest possibilities > since only through the awareness of possibilities is intuition fully satisfied. Intuition seeks to discover possibilities in the objective situation; hence as a mere tributary function (viz. when not in the position of priority) it is also the instrument which, in the presence of a hopelessly blocked situation, works automatically towards the issue, which no other function could discover. Where intuition has the priority, every ordinary situation in life seems like a closed room, which intuition has to open. It is constantly seeking outlets and fresh possibilities in external life. In a very short time every actual situation becomes a prison to the intuitive; it burdens him like a chain, prompting a compelling need for solution. At times objects would seem to have an almost exaggerated value, should they chance to represent the idea of a severance or release that might lead to the discovery of a new possibility. Yet no sooner have they performed their office, serving intuition as a ladder or a bridge, than they 464 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES appear to have no further value, and are discarded as mere burdensome appendages. A fact is acknowledged only in so far as it opens up fresh possibilities of advancing beyond it and of releasing the individual from its opera- tion. Emerging possibilities are compelling motives from which intuition cannot escape and to which all else must be sacrificed. ft The Extraverted Intuitive Type Whenever intuition predominates, a particular and un- mistakable psychology presents itself. Because intuition is orientated by the object, a decided dependence upon external situations is discernible, but it has an altogether different character from the dependence of the sensational type. The intuitive is never to be found among the generally recognized reality values, but he is always present where possibilities exist. He has a keen nose for things in the bud pregnant with future promise. He can never exist in stable, long-established conditions of generally acknowledged though limited value: because his eye is constantly ranging for new possibilities, stable conditions have an air of impending suffocation. He seizes hold of new objects and new ways with eager intensity, sometimes with extraordinary enthusiasm, only to abandon them cold-bloodedly, without regard and apparently without remembrance, as soon as their range becomes clearly defined and a promise of any considerable future development no longer clings to them. As long as a possibility exists, the intuitive is bound to it with thongs of fate. It is as though his whole life went out into the new situation. One gets the impression, which he himself shares, that he has just reached the definitive turning point in his life, and that from now on nothing else can seriously engage his thought and feeling. How- GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 465 ever reasonable and opportune it may be, and although every conceivable argument speaks in favour of stability, a day will come when nothing will deter him from regard- ing as a prison, the self-same situation that seemed to promise him freedom and deliverance, and from acting accordingly. Neither reason nor feeling can restrain or discourage him from a new possibility, even though it may run counter to convictions hitherto unquestioned. Think- ing and feeling, the indispensable components of conviction, are, with him, inferior functions, possessing no decisive weight; hence they lack the power to offer any lasting resistance to the force of intuition. And yet these are the only functions that are capable of creating any effectual compensation to the supremacy of intuition, since they can provide the intuitive with that judgment in which his type is altogether lacking. The morality of the intuitive is governed neither by intellect nor by feeling; he has his own characteristic morality, which consists in a loyalty to his intuitive view of things and a voluntary submission to its authority. Consideration for the welfare of bis neighbours is weak. No solid argument hinges upon their well-being any more than upon his own. Neither can we detect in him any great respect for his neighbour's convictions and customs; in fact, he is not infrequently put down as an immoral and ruthless adventurer. Since his intuition is largely concerned with outer objects, scenting out external possibilities, he readily applies himself to callings wherein he may expand his abilities in many directions. Merchants, contractors, speculators, agents, politicians, etc., commonly belong to this type. Apparently this type is more prone to favour women than men; in which case, however, the intuitive activity reveals itself not so much in the professional as in the social sphere. Such women understand the art of utilizing every social opportunity; they establish right social con- 466 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES nections; they seek out lovers with possibilities only to abandon everything again for the sake of a new possibility. It is at once clear, both from the standpoint of political economy and on grounds of general culture, that such a type is uncommonly important. If well-intentioned, with an orientation to life riot purely egoistical, he may render exceptional service as the promoter, if not the initiator of every kind of promising enterprise. He is the natural advocate of every minority that holds the seed of future promise. Because of his capacity, when orientated more towards men than things, to make an intuitive diagnosis of their abilities and range of usefulness, he can also ' make ' men. His capacity to inspire his fellow-men with courage, or to kindle enthusiasm for something new, is unrivalled, although he may have forsworn it by the morrow. The more powerful and vivid his intuition, the more is his subject fused and blended with the divined possibility. He animates it; he presents it in plastic shape and with convincing fire; he almost embodies it. It is not a mere histrionic display, but a fate. This attitude has immense dangers all too easily the intuitive may squander his life. He spends himself animat- ing men and things, spreading around him an abundance of life a life, however, which others live, not he. Were he able to rest with the actual thing, he would gather the fruit of his labours ; yet all too soon must he be running after some fresh possibility, quitting his newly planted field, while others reap the harvest. In the end he goes empty away. But when the intuitive lets things reach such a pitch, he also has the unconscious against him. The unconscious of the intuitiye has a certain similarity with that of the sensation-type. Thinking and feeling, being relatively repressed, produce infantile and archaic thoughts and feelings in the unconscious, which maybe compared GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 467 with those of the countertype. They likewise come to the surface in the form of intensive projections, and are just as absurd as those of the sensation-type, only to my mind they lack the other's mystical character; they are chiefly concerned with quasi-actual things, in the nature of sexual, financial, and other hazards, as, for instance, suspicions of approaching illness. This difference appears to be due to a repression of the sensations of actual things. These latter usually command attention in the shape of a sudden entanglement with a most unsuitable woman, or, in the case of a woman, with a thoroughly unsuitable man ; and this is simply the result of their unwitting con- tact with the sphere of archaic sensations. But its con- sequence is an unconsciously compelling tie to an object of incontestable futility. Such an event is already a com- pulsive symptom, which is also thoroughly characteristic- of this type. In common with the sensation-type, he claims a similar freedom and exemption from all restraint, since he suffers no submission of his decisions to rational judgment, relying entirely upon the perception of chance possibilities. He rids himself of the restrictions of reason, only to fall a victim to unconscious neurotic compulsions in the form of oversubtle, negative reasoning, hair-splitting dialectics, and a compulsive tie to the sensation of the object. His conscious attitude, both to the sensation and the sensed object, is one of sovereign superiority and dis- regard. Not that he means to be inconsiderate or superior he simply does not see the object that everyone else sees ; his oblivion is similar to that of the sensation-type only, with the latter, the soul of the object is missed. For this oblivion the object sooner or later takes revenge in the form of hypochondriacal, compulsive ideas, phobias, and every imaginable kind of absurd bodily sensation. 468 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 10. Recapitulation of Extroverted Irrational Types I call the two preceding types irrational for reasons already referred to; namely, because their commissions and omissions are based not upon reasoned judgment but upon the absolute intensity of perception. Their perception is concerned with simple happenings, where no selection has been exercised by the judgment In this respect both the latter types have a considerable superiority over the two judging types. The objective occurrence is both law-determined and accidental. In so far as it is law-determined, it is accessible to reason ; in so far as it is accidental, it is not One might reverse it and say that we apply the term law-determined to the occurrence appearing so to our reason, and where its regularity escapes us we call it accidental. The postulate of a universal lawfulness remains a postulate of reason only; in no sense is it a postulate of our functions of perception. Since these are in no way grounded upon the principle of reason and its postulates, they are, of their very nature, irrational. Hence my term * irrational ' corresponds with the nature of the perception-types. But merely because they subordinate judgment to perception, it would be quite incorrect to regard these types as un- reasonable. They are merely in a high degree empirical; they are grounded exclusively upon experience, so ex- clusively, in fact, that as a rule, their judgment cannot keep pace with their experience. But the functions of judgment are none the less present, although they eke out a largely unconscious existence. But, since the unconscious, in spite of its separation from the conscious subject, is always reappearing on the scene, the actual life of the irrational types exhibits striking judgments and acts of choice, which take the form of apparent sophistries, cold-hearted criticisms, and an apparently purposeful GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 469 selection of persons and situations. These traits have a rather infantile, or even primitive, stamp; at times they are astonishingly naive,, but at times also inconsiderate, crude, or outrageous. To the rationally orientated mind, the real character of such people might well appear rationalistic and purposeful in the bad sense. But this judgment would be valid only for their unconscious, and, therefore, quite incorrect for their conscious psychology, which is entirely orientated by perception, and because of its irrational nature is quite unintelligible to the rational judgment Finally, it may even appear to a rationally orientated mind that such an assemblage of accidentals, hardly deserves the name 'psychology.' The irrational type balances this contemptuous judgment with an equally poor impression of the rational ; for he sees him as some- thing only half alive, whose only aim in life consists in fastening the fetters of reason upon everything living, and wringing his own neck with criticisms. Naturally, these are gross extremes ; but they occur. From the standpoint of the rational type, the irrational might easily be represented as a rational of inferior quality ; namely, when he is apprehended in the light of what happens to him. For what happens to him is not the accidental in that he is master but, in its stead, he is ' overtaken by rational judgment and rational aims. This fact is hardly comprehensible to the rational mind, but its unthinkableness merely equals the astonishment of the irrational, when he discovers someone who can set the ideas of reason above the living and actual event Such a thing seems scarcely credible to him. It is, as a rule, quite hopeless to look to him for any recognition of principles in this direction, since a rational understanding is just as unknown and, in fact, tiresome to him as the idea of making a contract, without mutual discussion and obligations, appears unthinkable to the rational tvue. 470 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES This point brings me to the problem of the psychic relation between the representatives of the different types. Following the terminology of the French school of hypnotists, the psychic relation among the more modern psychiatrists is termed c rapport'. Rapport chiefly consists in a feeling of actual accord, in spite of recognised differ- ences. In fact, the recognition of existing differences, in so far as they are common to both, is already a rapport, a feeling of accord. If we make this feeling conscious to a rather high degree in an actual case, we discover that it has not merely the quality of a feeling that cannot be analysed further, but it also has the nature of an insight or cognitional content, representing the point of agreement in a conceptual form. This rational presentation is ex- clusively valid for the rational types; it by no means applies to the irrational, whose rapport is based not at all upon judgment but upon the parallelism of actual living events. His feeling of accord is the common perception of a sensation or intuition. The rational would say that rapport with the irrational depends purely upon chance. If, by some accident, the objective situations are exactly in tune, something like a human relationship takes place, but nobody can tell what will be either its validity or its duration. To the rational type it is often a very bitter thought that the relationship will last only just so long as ex- ternal circumstances accidentally produce a mutual interest. This does not occur to him as being especially human, whereas it is precisely in this situation that the irrational sees a humanity of quite singular beauty. Accordingly each regards the other as a man destitute of relationships, upon whom no reliance can be placed, and with whom one can never get on decent terms. Such a result, however, is reached only when one consciously tries to make some estimate of the nature of one's relationships with one's fellow-men. Although a psychological conscientiousness of GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 471 this kind is by no means usual, yet it frequently happens that, notwithstanding an absolute difference of standpoint, a kind of rapport does take place, and in the following way. The one assumes with unspoken projection that the other is, in all essential points, of the same opinion as himself, while the other divines or senses an objective community of interest, of which, however, the former has no conscious inkling and whose existence he would at once dispute, just as it would never occur to the latter that his relationship must rest upon a common point-of-view. A rapport of this kind is by far the most frequent ; it rests upon projection, which is the source of many subsequent misunderstandings. Psychic relationship, in the extraverted attitude, is always regulated by objective factors and outer deter- minants. What a man is within has never any decisive significance. For our present-day culture the extraverted attitude is the governing principle in the problem of human relationship; naturally, the introverted principle occurs, but it is still the exception, and has to appeal to the tolerance of the age. 0. THE INTROVERTED TYPE (I) THE GENERAL ATTITUDE OF CONSCIOUSNESS As I have already explained in section A (I) of the present chapter, the introverted is distinguished from the extraverted type by the fact that, unlike the latter, who is prevailingly orientated by the object and objective data, he is governed by subjective factors. In the section alluded to I mentioned, inter alia, that the introvert interposes a subjective view between the perception of the object and his own action, which prevents the action from assuming a character that corresponds with the objective situation. Naturally, this is a special case, mentioned by way of 47* GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES example, and merely intended to serve as a simple illustra- tion. But now we must go in quest of more general formulations. Introverted consciousness doubtless views the external conditions, but it selects the subjective determinants as the decisive ones. The type is guided, therefore, by that factor of perception and cognition which represents the receiving subjective disposition to the sense stimulus. Two persons, for example, see the same object, but they never see it in such a way as to receive two identically similar images of it. Quite apart from the differences in the personal equation and mere organic acuteness, there often exists a radical difference, both in kind and degree, in the psychic assimilation of the perceived image. Whereas the extraverted type refers pre-eminently to that which reaches him from the object, the introvert principally relies upon that which the outer impression constellates in the subject. In an individual case of apperception, the difference may, of course, be very delicate, but in the total psychological economy it is extremely noticeable, especially in the form of a reservation of the ego. Although it is anticipating somewhat, I consider that point of view which inclines, with Weininger, to describe this attitude as philautic, or with other writers, as autoerotic, egocentric, subjective, or egoistic, to be both misleading in principle and definitely depreciatory. It corresponds with the normal bias of the extraverted attitude against the nature of the introvert. We must not forget although extra- verted opinion is only too prone to do so that all percep- tion and cognition is not purely objective: it is also subjectively conditioned. The world exists not merely in itself, but also as it appears to me. Indeed, at bottom, we have absolutely no criterion that could help us to form a judgment of a world whose nature was unassimilable by the subject. If we were to ignore the subjective factor, it GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 473 would mean a complete denial of the great doubt as to the possibility of absolute cognition. And this would mean a rechute into that stale and hollow positivism which disfigured the beginning of our epoch an attitude of intellectual arrogance that is invariably accompanied by a crudeness of feeling, and an essential violation of life, as stupid as it is presumptuous. Through an overvaluation of the objective powers of cognition, we repress the import- ance of the subjective factor, which simply means the denial of the subject. But what is the subject? The subject is man we are the subject. Only a sick mind could forget that cognition must have a subject, for there exists no knowledge and, therefore, for us, no world where 1 1 know ' has not been said, although with this statement one has already expressed the subjective limitation of all knowledge. The same holds good for all the psychic functions: they have a subject which is just as indispensable as the object It is characteristic of our present extraverted valuation that the word 'subjective' occasionally rings almost like a reproach or blemish ; but in every case the epithet 'merely subjective* means a dangerous weapon of offence, destined for that daring head, that is not unceasingly convinced of the unconditioned superiority of the object We must, therefore, be quite clear as to what meaning the term 'subjective' carries in this investigation. As the subjective factor, then, I understand that psychological action or reaction which, when merged with the effect of the object, makes a new psychic fact Now, in so far as the subjective factor, since oldest times and among all peoples, remains in a very large measure identical with itself since elementary perceptions and cognitions are almost universally the same it is a reality that is just as firmly established as the outer object. If this were not o, any sort of permanent and essentially changeless reality Q* 474 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES would be altogether inconceivable, and any understanding with posterity would be a matter of impossibility. Thus far, therefore, the subjective factor is something that is just as much a fact as the extent of the sea and the radius of the earth. Thus far, also, the subjective factor claims the whole value of a world-determining power which can never, under any circumstances, be excluded from our calculations. It is the other world-law, and the man who is based upon it has a foundation just as secure, permanent, and valid, as the man who relies upon the object. But, just as "the object and objective data remain by no means always the same, inasmuch as they are both perishable and subject to chance, the subjective factor is similarly liable to variability and individual hazard. Hence its value is also merely relative. The excessive development of the introverted standpoint in consciousness, for instance, does not lead to a better or sounder application of the subjective factor, but to an artificial subjectification of consciousness, which can hardly escape the reproach ' merely subjective '. For, as a countertendency to this morbid subjectification, there ensues a desubjectification of consciousness in the form of an exaggerated extraverted attitude which richly deserves Weininger's description "misautic". Inasmuch as the introverted attitude is based upon a universally present, extremely real, and absolutely indispensable condition of psychological adaptation, such expressions as 'philautic', * egocentric', and the like are both objection- able and out of place, since they foster the prejudice that it is invariably a question of the beloved ego. Nothing could be more absurd than such an assumption. Yet one is continually meeting it when examining the judgments of the extravert upon the introvert. Not, of course, that I wish to ascribe such an error to individual extraverts; it is rather the present generally accepted extraverted view which is by no means restricted to the extraverted GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 475 type ; for it finds just as many representatives in the ranks of the other type, albeit very much against its own interest The reproach of being untrue to his own kind is justly levelled at the latter, whereas, this, at least, can never be charged against the former. The introverted attitude is normally governed by the psychological structure, theoretically determined by heredity, but which to the subject is an ever present sub- jective factor. This must not be assumed, however, to be simply identical with the subject's ego, an assumption that is certainly implied in the above mentioned designations of Weininger ; it is rather the psychological structure of the subject that precedes any development of the ego. The really fundamental subject, the Self, is far more comprehensive than the ego, because the former also embraces the unconscious, while the latter is essentially the focal point of consciousness. Were the ego identical with the Self, it would be unthinkable that we should be able to appear in dreams in entirely different forms and with entirely different meanings. But it is a characteristic peculi- arity of the introvert, which, moreover, is as much in keep- ing with his own inclination as with the general bias, that he tends to confuse his ego with the Self, and to exalt his ego to the position of subject of the psychological process, thus effecting that morbid subjectification of consciousness, mentioned above, which so alienates him from the object The psychological structure is the same. Semon has termed it 'mneme' 1 , whereas I call it the 'collective unconscious'. The individual Self is a portion, or excerpt, or representative, of something universally present in all living creatures, and, therefore, a correspondingly graduated kind of psychological process, which is born anew in every creature. Since earliest times, the inborn manner of acting * Semon, Mneme, translated by Louis Simon (London : Allen & Unwin). 476 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES has been called instinct, and for this manner of psychic apprehension of the object I have proposed the term archetype. I may assume that what is understood by instinct is familiar to everyone. It is another matter with the archetype. This term embraces the same idea as is contained in ' primordial image ' (an expression borrowed from Jakob Burckhardt), and as such I have described it in Chapter xi of this book. I must here refer the reader to that chapter, in particular to the definition of ' image'. The archetype is a symbolical formula, which always begins to function whenever there are no conscious ideas present, or when such as are present are impossible upon intrinsic or extrinsic grounds. The contents of the collective unconscious are represented in consciousness in the form of pronounced tendencies, or definite ways of looking at things. They are generally regarded by the individual as being determined by the object incorrectly, at bottom since they have their source in the unconscious structure of the psyche, and are only released by the operation of the object. These subjective tendencies and ideas are stronger than the objective influence; because their psychic value is higher, they are super- imposed upon all impressions. Thus, just as it seems incomprehensible to the introvert that the object should always be decisive, it remains just as enigmatic to the extravert how a subjective standpoint can be superior to the objective situation. He reaches the unavoidable conclusion that the introvert is either a conceited egoist or a fantastic doctrinaire. Recently he seems to have reached the conclusion that the introvert is constantly influenced by an unconscious power-complex. The intro- vert unquestionably exposes himself to this prejudice ; for it cannot be denied that his definite and highly generalized mode of expression, which apparently excludes every other view from the outset, lends a certain countenance to GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 477 this extraverted opinion. Furthermore, the very decisive- ness and inflexibility of the subjective judgment, which is superordinated to all objective data, is alone sufficient to create the impression of a strong ego-centricity. The intro- vert usually lacks the right argument in presence of this prejudice ; for he is just as unaware of the unconscious, though thoroughly sound presuppositions of his subjective judgment, as he is of his subjective perceptions. In harmony with the style of the times, he looks without, instead of behind his own consciousness for the answer. Should he become neurotic, it is the sign of a more or less complete unconscious identity of the ego with the Self, whereupon the importance of the Self is reduced to nil, while the ego becomes inflated beyond reason. The un- deniable, world-determining power of the subjective factor then becomes concentrated in the ego, developing an immoderate power claim and a downright foolish ego- centricity. Every psychology which reduces the nature of man to unconscious power instinct springs from this foundation. For example, Nietzsche's many faults in taste owe their existence to this subjectification of consciousness. (//) THE UNCONSCIOUS ATTITUDE The superior position of the subjective factor in consciousness involves an inferiority of the objective factor. The object is not given that importance which should really belong to it. Just as it plays too great a rdle in the extraverted attitude, it has too little to say in the introverted. To the extent that the introvert's conscious- ness is subjectified, thus bestowing undue importance upon the ego, the object is placed in a position which in time becomes quite untenable. The object is a factor of un- deniable power, while the ego is something very restricted 478 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES and transitory. It would be a very different matter if the Self opposed the object. Self and world are commensur- able factors; hence a normal introverted attitude is just as valid, and has as good a right to existence, as a normal extraverted attitude. 'But, if the ego has usurped the claims of the subject, a compensation naturally develops under the guise of an unconscious reinforcement of the influence of the object Such a change eventually com- mands attention, for often, in spite of a positively convulsive attempt to ensure the superiority of the ego, the object and objective data develop an overwhelming influence, which is all the more invincible because it seizes upon the individual unawares, thus effecting an irresistible invasion of consciousness. As a result of the ego's defective relation to the object for a will to command is not adaptation a compensatory relation to the object develops in the unconscious, which makes itself felt in consciousness as an unconditional and irrepressible tie to the object The more the ego seeks to secure every possible liberty, independence, superiority, and freiedom from obligations, the deeper does it fall into the slavery of objective facts. The subject's freedom of mind is chained to an ignominious financial dependence, his un- concernedness of action suffers now and again, a distressing collapse in the face of public opinion, his moral superiority gets swamped in inferior relationships, and his desire to dominate ends in a pitiful craving to be loved. The chief concern of the unconscious in such a case is the relation to the object, and it affects this in a way that is calculated to bring both the power illusion and the superiority phantasy to utter ruin. The object assumes terrifying dimensions, in spite of conscious depreciation. Detachment from, and command of, the object are, in consequence, pursued by the ego still more violently. Finally, the ego surrounds itself by a regular system of safeguards (Adler has ably GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 479 depicted these) which shall at least preserve the illusion of superiority. But, therewith, the introvert severs himself completely from the object, and either squanders his energy in defensive measures or makes fruitless attempts to impose his power upon the object and successfully assert himself. But these efforts are constantly being frustrated by the overwhelming impressions he receives from the object It continually imposes itself upon him against his will ; it provokes in him the most disagreeable and obstinate affects, persecuting him at every step. An immense, inner struggle is constantly required of him, in order to ' keep going.' Hence psychoasthenia is his typical form of neurosis, a malady which is characterized on the one hand by an extreme sensitiveness, and on the other by a great liability to exhaustion and chronic fatigue. An analysis of the personal unconscious yields an abundance of power phantasies coupled with fear of the dangerously animated objects, to which, as a matter of fact, the introvert easily falls a victim. For a peculiar cowardliness develops from this fear of the object; he shrinks from making either himself or his opinion effective, always dreading an intensified influence on the part of the object He is terrified of impressive affects in others, and is hardly ever free from the dread of falling under hostile influence. For objects possess terrifying and powerful qualities for him qualities which he cannot consciously discern in them, but which, through his unconscious per- ception, he cannot choose but believe in. Since his conscious relation to the object is relatively repressed, its exit is by way of the unconscious, where it becomes loaded with the qualities of the unconscious. These qualities are primarily infantile and archaic. His relation to the object, therefore, becomes correspondingly primitive, taking on all those peculiarities which characterize the primitive object- relationship. Now it seems as though objects possessed 480 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES magical powers. Strange, new objects excite fear and distrust, as though concealing unknown dangers ; objects long rooted nd blessed by tradition are attached to his soul as by invisible threads ; every change has a disturbing, if not actually dangerous aspect, since its apparent implica- tion is a magical animation of the object A lonely island where only what is permitted to move moves, becomes an ideal. Auch Einer, the novel, by F. Th. Vischer, gives a rich insight into this side of the introvert's psychology, and at the same time shows the underlying symbolism of the collective unconscious, which in this description of types I am leaving on one side, since it is a universal phenomenon with no especial connection with types. (7/7) PECULIARITIES OF THE BASIC PSYCHO- LOGICAL FUNCTIONS IN THE INTROVERTED ATTITUDE 1. Thinking When describing extraverted thinking, I gave a brief characterization of introverted thinking, to which at this stage I must make further reference. Introverted thinking is primarily orientated by the subjective factor. At the least, this subjective factor is represented by a subjective feeling of direction, which, in the last resort, determines judgment Occasionally, it is a more or less finished image, which to some extent, serves as a standard. This thinking may be conceived either with concrete or with abstract factors, but always at the decisive points it is orientated by subjective data. Hence, it does not lead from concrete experience back again into objective things, but always to the subjective content. External facts are not the aim and origin of this thinking, although the intro- vert would often like to make it so appear. It begins in the subject, and returns to the subject, although it may GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 481 undertake the widest flights into the territory of the real and the actual. Hence, in the statement of new facts, its chief value is indirect, because new views rather than the perception of new facts are its main concern. It formulates questions and creates theories; it opens up prospects and yields insight, but in the presence of facts it exhibits a reserved demeanour. As illustrative examples they have their value, but they must not prevail. Facts are collected as evidence or examples for a theory, but never for their own sake. Should this latter ever occur, it is done only as a compliment to the extraverted style. For this kind of thinking facts are of secondary im- portance; what, apparently, is of absolutely paramount importance is the development and presentation of the subjective idea, that primordial symbolical image standing more or less darkly before the inner vision. Its aim, therefore, is never concerned with an intellectual recon- struction of concrete actuality, but with the shaping of that dim image into a resplendent idea. Its desire is to reach reality ; its goal is to see how external facts fit into, and fulfil, the framework of the idea ; its actual creative power is proved by the fact that this thinking can also create that idea which, though not present in the external facts, is yet the most suitable, abstract expression of them. Its task is accomplished when the idea it has fashioned seems to emerge so inevitably from the external facts that they actually prove its validity. But just as little as it is given to extraverted thinking to wrest a really sound inductive idea from concrete facts or ever to create new ones, does it lie in the power of introverted thinking to translate its original image into an idea adequately adapted to the facts. For, as in the former case the purely empirical heaping together of facts paralyses thought and smothers their meaning, so in the latter case introverted thinking shows a dangerous tendency 4*2 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES to coerce facts into the shape of its image, or by ignoring them altogether, to unfold its phantasy image in freedom. In such a case, it will be impossible for the presented idea to deny its origin from the dim archaic image. There will cling to it a certain mythological character that we are prone to interpret as ' originality ', or in more pronounced cases as mere whimsicality; since its archaic character is not transparent as such to specialists unfamiliar with mythological motives. The subjective force of conviction inherent in such an idea is usually very great ; its power too is the more convincing, the less it is influenced by contact with outer facts. Although to the man who advocates the idea, it may well seem that his scanty store of facts were the actual ground and source of the truth and validity of his idea, yet such is not the case, for the idea derives its convincing power from its unconscious archetype, which, as such, has universal validity and ever- lasting truth. Its truth, however, is so universal and symbolic, that it must first enter into the recognized and recognizable knowledge of the time, before it can become a practical truth of any real value to life. What sort of a causality would it be, for instance, that never became perceptible in practical causes and practical results? This thinking easily loses itself in the immense truth of the subjective factor. It creates theories for the sake of theories, apparently with a view to real or at least possible facts, yet always with a distinct tendency to go over from the world of ideas into mere imagery. Accord- ingly many intuitions of possibilities appear on the scene, none of which however achieve any reality, until finally images are produced which no longer express anything externally real, being 'merely* symbols of the simply unknowable. It is now merely a mystical thinking and quite as unfruitful as that empirical thinking whose sole operation is within the framework of objective facts, GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 483 Whereas the latter sinks to the level of a mere presenta- tion of facts, the former evaporates into a representation of the unknowable, which is even beyond everything that could be expressed in an image. The presentation of facts has a certain incontestable truth, because the sub- jective factor is excluded and the facts speak for them- selves. Similarly, the representing of the unknowable has also an immediate, subjective, and convincing power, because it is demonstrable from its own existence. The former says ' Est, ergo est ' (' It is ; therefore it is ') ; while the latter says ' Cogito, ergo cogito ' (' I think ; therefore I think '). In the last analysis, introverted thinking arrives at the evidence of its own subjective being, while extra- verted thinking is driven to the evidence of its complete identity with the objective fact For, while the extravert really denies himself in his complete dispersion among objects, the introvert, by ridding himself of each and every content, has to content himself with his mere existence. In both cases the further development of life is crowded out of the domain of thought into the region of other psychic functions which had hitherto existed in relative unconsciousness. The extraordinary impoverishment of introverted thinking in relation to objective facts finds compensation in an abundance of unconscious facts. Whenever consciousness, wedded to the function of thought, confines itself within the smallest and emptiest circle possible though seeming to contain the plenitude of divinity unconscious phantasy becomes proportionately enriched by a multitude of archaically formed facts, a veritable pandemonium of magical and irrational factors, wearing the particular aspect that accords with the nature of that function which shall next relieve the thought- function as the representative of life. If this should be the intuitive function, the ' other side ' will be viewed with the eyes of a Kubin or a Meyrink. If it is the feeling-function, 484 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES there arise quite unheard of and fantastic feeling-relations, coupled with feeling-judgments of a quite contradictory and unintelligible character. If the sensation-function, then the senses discover some new and never-before experienced possibility, both within and without the body. A closer investigation of such changes can easily demonstrate the reappearance of primitive psychology with all its characteristic features. Naturally, the thing experienced is not merely primitive but also symbolic; in fact, the older and more primeval it appears, the more does it represent the future truth : since everything ancient in our unconscious means the coming possibility. Under ordinary circumstances, not even the transition to the 'other side* succeeds still less the redeeming journey through the unconscious. The passage across is chiefly prevented by conscious resistance to any subjection of the ego to the unconscious reality and to the deter- mining reality of the unconscious object. The condition is a dissociation in other words, a neurosis having the character of an inner wastage with increasing brain- exhaustion a psychoasthenia, in fact 2. The Introverted Thinking Type Just as Darwin might possibly represent the normal extraverted thinking type, so we might point to Kant as a counter-example of the normal introverted thinking type. The former speaks with facts; the latter appeals to the subjective factor. Darwin ranges over the wide fields of objective facts, while Kant restricts himself to a critique of knowledge in general. But suppose a Cuvier be con- trasted with a Nietzsche: the antithesis becomes even sharper. The introverted thinking type is characterized by a priority of the thinking I have just described. Like his GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 4*5 extraverted parallel, he is decisively influenced by ideas ; these, however, have their origin, not in the objective data but in the subjective foundation. Like the extravert, he too will follow his ideas, but in the reverse direction : inwardly not outwardly. Intensity is his aim, not extensity. In these fundamental characters he differs markedly, indeed quite unmistakably from his extraverted parallel. Like every introverted type, he is almost completely lacking in that which distinguishes his counter type, namely, the intensive relatedness to the object In the case of a human object, the man has a distinct feeling that he matters only, in a negative way, *., in milder instances he is merely conscious of being superfluous, but with a more extreme type he feels himself warded off as something definitely disturbing. This negative relation to the object indifference, and even aversion character- izes every introvert; it also makes a description of the introverted type in general extremely difficult With him, everything tends to disappear and get concealed. His judgment appears cold, obstinate, arbitrary, and incon- siderate, simply because he is related less to the object than the subjegt One can feel nothing in it that might possibly confer a higher value upon the object ; it always seems to go beyond the object, leaving behind it a flavbur of a certain subjective superiority. Courtesy, amiability, and friendliness may be present, but often with a particular quality suggesting a certain uneasiness, which betrays an ulterior aim, namely, the disarming of an opponent, who must at all costs be pacified and set at ease lest he prove a disturbing element In no sense, of course, is he an opponent, but, if at all sensitive, he will feel somewhat repelled, perhaps even depreciated. Invariably the object has to submit to a certain neglect; in worse cases it is even surrounded with quite unnecessary measures of precaution. Thus it happens that this type tends to 486 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES disappear behind a cloud of misunderstanding, which only thickens the more he attempts to assume, by way of compensation and with the help of his inferior functions, a certain mask of urbanity, which often presents a most vivid contrast to his real nature. Although in the extension of his world of ideas he shrinks from no risk, however daring, and never even considers the possibility that such a world might also be dangerous, revolutionary, heretical, and wounding to feeling, he is none the less a prey to the liveliest anxiety, should it ever chance to become objectively real. That goes against the grain. When the time comes for him to transplant his ideas into the world, his is by no means the air of an anxious mother solicitous for her children's welfare; he merely exposes them, and is often extremely annoyed when they fail to thrive on their own account The decided lack he usually displays in practical ability, and his aversion from any sort of reclame assist in this .attitude. If to his eyes his product appears subjectively correct and true, it must also be so in practice, and others have simply got to bow to its truth. Hardly ever will he go out of his way to win anyone's appreciation of it, especially if it be anyone of influence. And, when he brings himself to do so, he is usually so extremely maladroit that he merely achieves the opposite of his purpose. In his own special province, there are usually awkward experiences with his colleagues, since he never knows how to win their favour ; as a rule he only succeeds in showing them how entirely superfluous they are to him. In the pursuit of his ideas he is generally stubborn, head-strong, and quite unamenable to influence. His suggestibility to personal influences is in strange contrast to this. An object has only to be recognized as apparently innocuous for such a type to become extremely accessible to really inferior elements. They lay hold of him from the GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 487 unconscious. He lets himself be brutalized and exploited in the most ignominious way, if only he can be left undisturbed in the pursuit of his ideas. He simply does not see when he is being plundered behind his back and wronged in practical ways: this is because his relation to the object is such a secondary matter that he is left without a guide in the purely objective valuation of his product. In thinking out his problems to the utmost of his ability, he also complicates them, and constantly becomes entangled in every possible scruple. However clear to himself the inner structure of his thoughts may be, he is not in the least clear where and how they link up with the world of reality. Only with difficulty can he persuade himself to admit that what is clear to him may not be equally clear to everyone. His style is usually loaded and complicated by all sorts of accessories, quali- fications, saving clauses, doubts, etc., which spring from his exacting scrupulousness. His work goes slowly and with difficulty. Either he is taciturn or he falls among people who cannot understand him ; whereupon he proceeds to gather further proof of the unfathomable stupidity of man. If he should ever chance to be under- stood, he is credulously liable to overestimate. Ambitious women have only to understand how advantage may be taken of his uncritical attitude towards the object to make an easy prey of him ; or he may develop into a misanthropic bachelor with a childlike heart. Then, too, his outward appearance is often gauche, as if he were painfully anxious to escape observation ; or he may show a remarkable unconcern, an almost childlike naivetd In his own particular field of work he provokes violent contradiction, with which he has no notion how to deal, unless by chance he is seduced by his primitive affects into biting and fruitless polemics. By his wider circle he is counted inconsiderate and domineering. But the 4*8 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES better one knows him, the more favourable one's judgment becomes, and his nearest friends are well aware how to value his intimacy. To people who judge him from afar he appears prickly, inaccessible, haughty ; frequently he may even seem soured as a result of his anti-social prejudices. He has little influence as a personal teacher, since the mentality of his pupils is strange to him. Besides, teaching has, at bottom, little interest for him, except when it accidentally provides him with a theoretical problem. He is a poor teacher, because while teaching his thought is engaged with the actual material, and will not be satisfied with its mere presentation. With the intensification of his type, his convictions become all the more rigid and unbending. Foreign influences are eliminated ; he becomes more unsympathetic to his peripheral world, and therefore more dependent upon his intimates. His expression becomes more personal and inconsiderate and his ideas more profound, but they can no longer be adequately expressed in the material at hand. This lack is replaced by emotivity and susceptibility. The foreign influence, brusquely declined from without, reaches him from within, from the side of the unconscious, and he is obliged to collect evidence against it and against things in general which to outsiders seems quite super- fluous. Through the subjectification of consciousness occasioned by his defective relationship to the object, what secretly concerns his own person now seems to him of chief importance. And he begins to confound his subjective truth with his own person. Not that he will attempt to press anyone personally with his convictions, but he will break out with venompus and personal retorts against every criticism, however just Thus in every respect his isolation gradually increases. His originally fertilizing ideas become destructive, because poisoned by a kind of sediment of bitterness. His struggle against the influences emanating GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 489 from the unconscious increases with his external isolation, until gradually this begins to cripple him. A still greater isolation must surely protect him from the unconscious influences, but as a rule this only takes him deeper into the conflict which is destroying him within. The thinking of the introverted type is positive and synthetic in the development of those ideas which in ever increasing measure approach the eternal validity of the primordial images. But, when their connection with objective experience begins to fade, they become mytho- logical and untrue for the present situation. Hence this thinking holds value only for its contemporaries, just so long as it also stands in visible and understandable con- nection with the known facts of the time. But, when thinking becomes mythological, its irrelevancy grows until finally it gets lost in itself. The relatively unconscious functions of feeling, intuition, and sensation, which counter- balance introverted thinking, are inferior in quality and have a primitive, extraverted character, to which all the troublesome objective influences this type is subject to must be ascribed. The various measures of self-defence, the curious protective obstacles with which such people are wont to surround themselves, are sufficiently familiar, and I may, therefore, spare myself a description of them. They all serve as a defence against ' magical ' influences ; a vague dread of the other sex also belongs to this category. a Feeling Introverted feeling is determined principally by the subjective factor. This means that the feeling-judgment differs quite as essentially from extraverted feeling as does the introversion of thinking from extraversion. It is un- questionably difficult to give an intellectual presentation of the introverted feeling process, or even an approximate 490 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES description of it, although the peculiar character of this kind of feeling simply stands out as soon as one becomes aware of it at all. Since it is primarily controlled by sub- jective pre-conditions, and is only secondarily concerned with the object, this feeling appears much less upon the surface and is, as a rule, misunderstood. It is a feeling which apparently depreciates the object ; hence it usually becomes noticeable in its negative manifestations. The existence of a positive feeling can be inferred only in- directly, as it were. Its aim is not so much to accom- modate to the objective fact as to stand above it, since its whole unconscious effort is to give reality to the under- lying images. It is, as it were, continually seeking an image which has no existence in reality, but of which it has had a sort of previous vision. From objects that can never fit in with its aim it seems to glide unheedingly away. It strives after an inner intensity, to which at the most, objects contribute only an accessory stimulus. The depths of this feeling can only be divined they can never be clearly comprehended. It makes men silent and difficult of access ; with the sensitiveness of the mimosa, it shrinks from the brutality of the object, in order to expand into the depths of the subject It puts forward negative feeling-judgments or assumes an air of profound indifference, as a measure of self-defence. Primordial images are, of course, just as much idea as feeling. Thus, basic ideas such as God, freedom, immortality are just as much feeling-values as they are significant as ideas. Everything, therefore, that has been said of the introverted thinking refers equally to intro- verted feeling, only here everything is felt while there it was thought But the fact that thoughts can generally be expressed more intelligibly than feelings demands a more than ordinary descriptive or artistic capacity before the real wealth of this feeling can be even approximately GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 491 presented or communicated to the outer world. Whereas subjective thinking, on account of its unrelatedness, finds great difficulty in arousing an adequate understanding, the same, though in perhaps even higher degree, holds good for subjective feeling. In order to communicate with others it has to find an external form which is not only fitted to absorb the subjective feeling in a satisfying expression, but which must also convey it to one's fellow- man in such a way that a parallel process takes place in him. Thanks to the relatively great internal (as well as external) similarity of the human being, this effect can actually be achieved, although a form acceptable to feeling is extremely difficult to find, so long as it is still mainly orientated by the fathomless store of primordial images. But, when it becomes falsified by an egocentric attitude, it at once grows unsympathetic, since t^en its major concern is still with the ego. Such a case never fails to create an impression of sentimental self-love, with its constant effort to arouse interest and even morbid self- admiration. Just as the subjectified consciousness of the introverted thinker, striving after an abstraction of abstrac- tions, only attains a supreme intensity of a thought-process in itself quite empty, so the intensification of egocentric feeling only leads to a contentless passionateness, which merely feels itself. This is the mystical, ecstatic stage, which prepares the way over into the extraverted functions repressed by feeling. Just as introverted thinking is pitted against a primitive feeling, to which objects attach themselves with magical force, so introverted feeling is counterbalanced by a primitive thinking, whose concre- tism and slavery to facts passes all bounds. Continually emancipating itself from the relation to the object, this feeling creates a freedom, both of action and of conscience, that is only answerable to the subject, and that may even renounce all traditional values. But so much the more 492 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES does unconscious thinking fall a victim to the power of objective facts. 4. The Introverted FeeUngJPype It is principally among womenjthat I have found the priority of introverted feelmgT"" Tfhe proverb ' Still waters run deep* is very true of such women. They are mostly silent, inaccessible, and hard to understand; often they hide behind a childish or banal mask, and not infrequently their temperament is melancholic. They neither shine nor reveal themselves. Since they submit the control of their lives to their subjectively orientated feeling, their true motives generally remain concealed. Their outward demeanour is harmonious and inconspicuous ; they reveal a delightful repose, a sympathetic parallelism, which has no desire to affect others, either to impress, influence, or change them in any way. Should this outer side be some- what emphasized, a suspicion of neglectfulness and coldness may easily obtrude itself, which not seldom increases to a real indifference for the comfort and well-being of others. One distinctly feels the movement of feeling away from the object, With the normal type, however, such an event only occurs when the object has in some way too strong an effect The harmonious feeling atmosphere rules only so long as the object moves upon its own way with a moderate feeling intensity, and makes no attempt to cross the other's path. There is little effort to accompany the real emotions of the object, which tend to be damped and rebuffed, or to put it more aptly, are 'cooled off* by a negative feeling-judgment Although one may find a constant readiness for a peaceful and harmonious com- panionship, the unfamiliar object is shown no touch of amiability, no gleam of responding warmth, but is met by a manner of apparent indifference or repelling coldness GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 493 One may even be made to feel the superfluousness of one's own existence. In the presence of something that might carry one away or arouse enthusiasm, this type observes a benevolent neutrality, tempered with an occasional trace of superiority and criticism that soon takes the wind out of the sails of a sensitive object. But a stormy emotion will be brusquely rejected with murderous coldness, unless it happens to catch the subject from the side of the unconscious, i.e. unless, through the animation of some primordial image, feeling is, as it were, taken captive. In which event such a woman simply feels a momentary laming, invariably producing, in due course, a still more violent resistance, which reaches the object in his most vulnerable spot. The relation to the object is, as far as possible, kept in a secure and tranquil middle state of feeling, where passion and its intemperateness are resolutely proscribed. Expression of feeling, therefore^ remains niggardly and, when once aware of it at all, the object has a permanent sense of .his undervaluation. Such, however, is not always the case, since very often the deficit remains unconscious ; whereupon the unconscious feeling-claims gradually pro- duce symptoms which compel a more serious attention. A superficial judgment might well be betrayed, by a rather cold and reserved demeanour, into denying all feeling to this type. Such a view, however, would be quite false; the truth is, her feelings are intensive rather than extensive. They develop into the depth. Whereas, for instance, an extensive feeling of sympathy can express itself in both word and deed at the right place, thus quickly ridding itself of its impression, an intensive sympathy, because shut off from every means of expression, gains a passionate depth that embraces the misery of a world and is simply benumbed. It may possibly make an extravagant irruption, leading to some staggering act of an almost Heroic character, to which, however, neither the object nor 494 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES the subject can find a right relation. To the outer world, or to the blind eyes of the extravert, this sympathy looks like coldness, for it does nothing visibly, and an extra- verted consciousness is unable to believe in invisible forces. Such misunderstanding is a characteristic occurrence in the life of this type, and is commonly registered as a most weighty argument against any deeper feeling relation with the object But the underlying, real object of this feeling is only dimly divined by the normal type. It may possibly express its aim and content in a concealed religiosity anxiously shielded from profane eyes, or in intimate poetic forms equally safeguarded from surprise; not without a secret ambition to bring about some superiority over the object by such means. Women often express much of it in their children, letting their passion- ateness flow secretly into them. Although in the normal type, the tendency, above alluded to, to overpower or coerce the object once openly and visibly with the thing secretly felt, rarely plays a disturbing r61e, and never leads to a serious attempt in this direction, some trace of it, none the less, leaks through into the personal effect upon the object, in the form of a domineering influence often difficult to define. It is sensed as a sort of stifling or oppressive feeling which holds the immediate circle under a spell. It gives a woman of this type a certain mysterious power that may prove terribly fascinating to the extraverted man, for it touches his unconscious. This power is derived from the deeply felt, unconscious images ; consciousness, how- ever, readily refers it to the ego, whereupon the influence becomes debased into personal tyranny. But, wherever the unconscious subject is identified with the ego, the mysterious power of the intensive feeling is also trans* formed into banal and arrogant ambition, vanity, and GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 495 petty tyranny. This produces a type of woman most regrettably distinguished by her unscrupulous ambition and mischievous cruelty. But this change in the picture leads also to neurosis. So long as the ego feels itself housed, as it were, beneath the heights of the unconscious subject, and feeling reveals something higher and mightier than the ego, the type is normal. The unconscious thinking is certainly archaic, yet its reductions may prove extremely helpful in compensating the occasional inclinations to exalt the ego into the subject. But, whenever this does take place by dint of complete suppression of the uncon- scious reductive thinking-products, the unconscious thinking goes over into opposition and becomes projected into objects, Whereupon the now egocentric subject comes to feel the power and importance of the depreciated object. Con- sciousness begins to feel ' what others think '. Naturally, others are thinking all sorts of baseness, scheming evil, and contriving all sorts of plots, secret intrigues, etc. To prevent this, the subject must also begin to carry out preventive intrigues, to suspect and sound others, to make subtle combinations. Assailed by rumours, he must make convulsive efforts to convert, if possible, a threatened inferiority into a superiority. Innumerable secret rivalries develop, and in these embittered struggles not only will no base or evil means be disdained, but even virtues will be misused and tampered with in order to play the trump card. Such a development must lead to exhaustion. The form of neurosis is neurasthenic rather than hysterical ; in the case of women we often find severe collateral physical states, as for instance anaemia and its sequelae. 5. Recapitulation of Introverted Rational Types Both the foregoing types are rational, since they are founded upon reasoning, judging functions. Reasoning 49 6 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES judgment is based not merely upon objective, but also upon subjective, data. But the predominance of one or other factor, conditioned by a psychic disposition often existing from early youth, deflects the reasoning function. For a judgment to be really reasonable it should have equal reference to both the objective and the subjective factors, and be able to do justice to both. This, however, would be an ideal case, and would presuppose a uniform develop- ment of both extraversion and introversion. But either movement excludes the other, and, so long as this dilemma persists, they cannot possibly exist side by side, but at the most successively. Under ordinary circumstances, there- fore, an ideal reason is impossible. A rational type has always a typical reasonal variation. Thus, the introverted rational types unquestionably have a reasoning judgment, only it is a judgment whose leading note is subjective. The laws of logic are not necessarily deflected, since its onesidedness lies in the premise. The premise is the predominance of the subjective factor existing beneath every conclusion and colouring every judgment Its superior value as compared with the objective factor is self-evident from the beginning. As already stated, it is not just a question of value bestowed, but of a natural disposition existing before all rational valuation. Hence, to the introvert rational judgment necessarily appears to have many nuances which differentiate it from that of the extravert Thus, to the introvert, to mention the most general instance, that chain of reasoning which leads to the subjective factor appears rather more reasonable than that which leads to the object. This difference, which in the individual case is practically insignificant, indeed almost unnoticeable, effects unbridgeable oppositions in the gross ; these are the more irritating, the less we are aware of the minimal standpoint displacement produced by the psychological premise in the individual case A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 497 capital error regularly creeps in here, for one labours to prove a fallacy in the conclusion, instead of realizing the difference of the psychological premise. Such a realization is a difficult matter for every rational type, since it under- mines the apparent, absolute validity of his own principle, and delivers him over to its antithesis, which certainly amounts to a catastrophe. Almost more even than the extraverted is the introverted type subject to misunderstanding : not so much because the extravert is a more merciless or critical adversary, than he himself can easily be, but because the style of the epoch in which he himself participates is against him. Not in relation to the extraverted type, but as against our general occidental world-philosophy, he finds himself in the minority, not of course numerically, but from the evidence of his own feeling. In so far as he is a convinced participator in the general style, he undermines his own foundations, since the present style, with its almost exclusive acknowledgment of the visible and the tangible, is opposed to his principle. Because of its invisibility, he is obliged to depreciate the subjective factor, and to force himself to join in the extra- verted overvaluation of the object. He himself sets the subjective factor at too low a value, and his feelings of inferiority are his chastisement for this sin. Little wonder, therefore, that it is precisely our epoch, and particularly those movements which are somewhat ahead of the time, that reveal the subjective factor in every kind of exagger- ated, crude and grotesque form of expression. I refer to the art of the present day. The undervaluation of his own principle makes the introvert egotistical, and forces upon him the psychology of the oppressed. The more egotistical he becomes, the stronger his impression grows that these others, who are apparently able, without qualms, to conform with the present style, are the oppressors against whom he must guard and R 498 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES protect himself. He does not usually perceive that he commits his capital mistake in not depending upon the subjective factor with that same loyalty and devotion with which the extravert follows the object By the undervaluation of his own principle, his penchant towards egoism becomes unavoidable, which, of course, richly deserves the prejudice of the extravert. Were he only to remain true to his own principle, the judgment of 'egoist 1 would be radically false; for the justification of his attitude would be established by its general efficacy, and all misunderstandings dissipated. 6. Sensation Sensation, which in obedience to its whole nature is concerned with the object and the objective stimulus, also undergoes a considerable modification in the introverted attitude. It, too, has a subjective factor, for beside the object sensed there stands a sensing subject, who con- tributes his subjective disposition to the objective stimulus. In the introverted attitude sensation is definitely based upon the subjective portion of perception. What is meant by this finds its best illustration in the reproduction of objects in art When, for instance, several painters under- take to paint one and the same landscape, with a sincere attempt to reproduce it faithfully, each painting will none the less differ from the rest, not merely by virtue of a more or less developed ability, but chiefly because of a different vision; there will even appear in some of the paintings a decided psychic variation, both in general mood and in treatment of colour and form. Such qualities betray a more or less influential co-operation of the sub- jective factor. The subjective factor of sensation is essentially the same as in the other functions already spoken of. It is an unconscious disposition, which alters GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 499 the sense-perception at its very source, thus depriving it of the character of a purely objective influence. In this case, sensation is related primarily to the subject, and only secondarily to the object How extraordinarily strong the subjective factor can be is shown most clearly in art. The ascendancy of the subjective factor occasion- ally achieves a complete suppression of the mere influence of the object ; but none the less sensation remains sensa- tion, although it has come to be a perception of the sub- jective factor, and the effect of the object has sunk to the level of a mere stimulant. Introverted sensation develops in accordance with this subjective direction. A true sense- perception certainly exists, but it always looks as though objects were not so much forcing their way into the subject in their own right as that the subject were seeing things quite differently, or saw quite other things than the rest of mankind. As a matter of fact, the subject perceives the same things as everybody else, only he never stops at the purely objective effect, but concerns himself with the subjective perception released by the objective stimulus. Subjective perception differs remarkably from the objective. It is either not found at all in the object, or, at most, merely suggested by it; it can, however, be similar to the sensation of other men, although not immediately derived from the objective behaviour of things. It does not impress one as a mere product of consciousness it is too genuine for that. But it makes a definite psychic impression, since elements of a higher psychic order are perceptible to it This order, however, does not coincide with the contents of consciousness. It is concerned with presuppositions, or dispositions of the collective unconscious, with mythological images, with primal possibilities of ideas. The character of significance and meaning clings to sub- jective perception. It says more than the mere image of the object, though naturally only to him for whom the 500 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES subjective factor has some meaning. To another, a re- produced subjective impression seems to suffer from the defect of possessing insufficient similarity with the object ; it seems, therefore, to have failed in its purpose. Sub- jective sensation apprehends the background of the physical world rather than its surface. The decisive thing is not the reality of the object, but the reality of the subjective factor, i.e. the primordial images, which in their totality represent a psychic mirror-world. It is a mirror, however, with the peculiar capacity of representing the present contents of consciousness not in their known and customary form but in a certain sense sub specie aeternitatis, somewhat as a million-year old consciousness might see them. Such a consciousness would see the becoming and the passing of things beside their present and momentary existence, and not only that, but at the same time it would also see that Other, which was before their becoming and will be after their passing hence. To this consciousness the present moment is improbable. This is, of course, only a simile, of which, however, I had need to give some sort of illustration of the peculiar nature of introverted sensation. Introverted sensation conveys an image whose effect is not so much to reproduce the object as to throw over it a wrapping whose lustre is derived from age-old subjective experience and the still un- born future event. Thus, mere sense impression develops into the depth of the meaningful, while extraverted sensa- tion seizes only the momentary and manifest existence of things. 7. The Introverted Sensation Type The priority of introverted sensation produces a definite type, which is characterized by certain peculiarities. It is an irrational type, inasmuch as its selection among occurrences is not primarily rational, but is guided rather GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 501 by what just happens. Whereas, the extraverted sensa* tion-type is determined by the intensity of the objective influence, the introverted type is orientated by the in- tensity of the subjective sensation-constituent released by the objective stimulus. Obviously, therefore, no sort of proportional relation exists between object and sensation, but something that is apparently quite irregular and arbitrary. Judging from without, therefore, it is practically impossible to foretell what will make an impression and what will not. If there were present a capacity and readiness for expression in any way commensurate with the strength of sensation, the irrationality of this type would be extremely evident This is the case, for instance, when the individual is a creative artist. But, since this is the exception, it usually happens that the characteristic introverted difficulty of expression also conceals his irrationality. On the contrary, he may actually stand out by the very calmness and passivity of his demeanour, or by his rational self-control. This peculiarity, which often leads the superficial judgment astray, is really due to his unrelatedness to objects. Normally the object is not consciously depreciated in the least, but its stimulus is removed from it, because it is immediately replaced by a subjective reaction, which is no longer related to the reality of the object This, of course, has the same effect as a depreciation of the object Such a type can easily make one question why one should exisij at all ; or why objects in general should have any right to existence, since everything essential happens without the object. This doubt may be justified in extreme cases, though not in the normal, since the objective stimulus is indispensable to his sensation, only it produces something different from what was to be surmised from the external state of affairs. Considered from without, it looks as though the effect of the object 5oa GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES did not obtrude itself upon the subject This impression is so far correct inasmuch as a subjective content does, in fact, intervene from the unconscious, thus snatching away the effect of the object This intervention may be so abrupt that the individual appears to shield himself directly from any possible influence of the object In any aggravated or well-marked case, such a protective guard is also actually present Even with only a slight reinforcement of the unconscious, the subjective constituent of sensation becomes so alive that it almost completely obscures the objective influence. The results of this are, on the one hand, a feeling of complete depreciation on the part of the object, and, on the other, an illusory con- ception of reality on the part of the subject, which in morbid cases may even reach the point of a complete inability to discriminate between the real object and the subjective perception. Although so vital a distinction vanishes completely only in a practically psychotic state, yet long before that point is reached subjective perception may influence thought, feeling, and action to an extreme degree, in spite of the fact that the object is clearly seen in its fullest reality. Whenever the objective influence does succeed in forcing its way into the subject as the result of particular circumstances of special intensity, or because of a more perfect analogy with the unconscious image even the normal example of this type is induced to act in accordance with his unconscious model Such action has an illusory quality in relation to objective reality, and therefore has a very odd and strange character. It instantly reveals the anti-real subjectivity of the type. But, where the influence of the object does not entirely succeed, it encounters a benevolent neutrality, disclos- ing little sympathy, yet constantly striving to reassure and adjust The too-low is raised a little, the too-high is made a little lower; the enthusiastic is damped, the GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES extravagant restrained ; and the unusual brought within the ' correct ' formula : all this in order to keep the in- fluence of the object within the necessary bounds. Thus, this type becomes an affliction to his circle, just in so far as his entire harmlessness is no longer above suspicion. But, if the latter should be the case, the individual readily becomes a victim to the aggressiveness and ambitions of others. Such men allow themselves to be abused, for which they usually take vengeance at the most unsuitable occasions with redoubled stubbornness and resistance. When there exists no capacity for artistic expression, all impressions sink into the inner depths, whence they hold consciousness under a spell, removing any possibility it might have had of mastering the fascinating impression by means of conscious expression. Relatively speaking, this type has only archaic possibilities of expression for the disposal of his impressions ; thought and feeling are relatively unconscious, and, in so far as they have a certain consciousness, they only serve in the necessary, banal, every-day expressions. Hence as conscious functions, they are wholly unfitted to give any adequate rendering of the subjective perceptions. This type, therefore, is uncommonly inaccessible to an objective understanding ; and he fares no better in the understanding of himself. Above all, his development estranges him from the reality of the object, handing him over to his subjective perceptions, which orientate his consciousness in accordance with an archaic reality, although his deficiency in com- parative judgment keeps him wholly unaware of this fact Actually he moves in a mythological world, where men animals, railways, houses, rivers, and mountains appear partly as benevolent deities and partly as malevolent demons. That thus they appear to him never enters his mind, although their effect upon his judgments and acts bqar no other interpretation. He judges ancj act$ 2$ 504 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES though he had such powers to deal with ; but this begins to strike him only when he discovers that his sensations are totally different from reality. If his tendency is to reason objectively, he will sense this difference as morbid ; but if, on the other hand, he remains faithful to his irrationality, and is prepared to grant his sensation reality value, the objective world will appear a mere make-belief and a comedy. Only in extreme cases, however, is this dilemma reached. As a rule, the individual acquiesces in his isolation and in the banality of the reality, which, however, he unconsciously treats archaically. His unconscious i$ distinguished chiefly by the re- pression of intuition, which thereby acquires an extraverted and archaic character. Whereas true extraverted intuition has a characteristic resourcefulness, and a ' good nose ' for every possibility in objective reality, this archaic, extra- verted intuition has an amazing flair for every ambiguous, gloomy, dirty, and dangerous possibility in the background of reality. In the presence of this intuition the real and conscious intention of the object has no significance ; it will peer behind every possible archaic antecedent of such an intention. It possesses, therefore, something dangerous, something actually undermining, which often stands in most vivid contrast to the gentle benevolence of conscious- ness. So long as the individual is not too aloof from the object, the unconscious intuition effects a wholesome compensation to the rather fantastic and over credulous attitude of consciousness. But as soon as the unconscious becomes antagonistic to consciousness, such intuitions come to the surface and expand their nefarious influence : they force themselves compellingly upon the individual, releasing compulsive ideas about objects of the most perverse kind. The neurosis arising from this sequence of events is usually a compulsion neurosis, in which the hysterical characters recede and are obscured by symptoms of exhaustion. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 505 8. Intuition Intuition, in the introverted attitude, is directed upon the inner object, a term we might justly apply to the elements of the unconscious. For the relation of inner objects to consciousness is entirely analogous to that of outer objects, although theirs is a psychological and not a physical reality. Inner objects appear to the intuitive perception as subjective images of things, which, though not met with in external experience, really determine the contents of the unconscious, i.e. the collective unconscious in the last resort. Naturally, in their per se character, these contents are not accessible to experience, a quality which they have in common with the outer object For just as outer objects correspond only relatively with our perceptions of them, so the phenomenal forms of the inner object are also relative ; products of their (to us) inaccessible essence and of the peculiar nature of the intuitive function. Like sensation, intuition also has its subjective factor, which is suppressed to the farthest limit in the extraverted intuition, but which becomes the decisive factor in the intuition of the introvert. Although this intuition may receive its impetus from outer objects, it is never arrested by the external possibilities, but stays with that factor which the outer object releases within. Whereas introverted sensation is mainly confined to the perception of particular innervation phenomena by way of the unconscious, and does not go beyond them, intuition represses this side of the subjective factor and perceives the image which has really occasioned the innervation. Supposing, for instance, a man is overtaken by a psychogenic attack of giddiness. Sensation is arrested by the peculiar character of this innervation- disturbance, perceiving all its qualities, its intensity, its transient course, the nature of its origin and disappearance R* 506 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES in their every detail, without raising the smallest inquiry concerning the nature of the thing which produced the disturbance, or advancing anything as to its content. Intuition, on the other hand, receives from the sensation only the impetus to immediate activity; it peers behind the scenes, quickly perceiving the inner image that gave rise to the specific phenomenon, i> the attack of vertigo, in the present case. It sees the image of a tottering man pierced through the heart by an arrow. This image fascinates the intuitive activity; it is arrested by it, and seeks to explore every detail of it. It holds fast to the vision, observing with the liveliest interest how the picture changes, unfolds further, and finally fades. In this way introverted intuition perceives all the background processes of consciousness with almost the same distinctness as extraverted sensation senses outer objects. For intuition, therefore, the unconscious images attain to the dignity of things or objects. But, because intuition excludes the co-operation of sensation, it obtains either no knowledge at all or at the best a very inadequate awareness of the innervation-disturbances or of the physical effects produced by the unconscious images. Accordingly, the images appear as though detached from the subject, as though existing in themselves without relation to the person. Consequently, in the above-mentioned example, the intro- verted intuitive, when affected by the giddiness, would not imagine that the perceived image might also in some way refer to himseli Naturally, to one who is rationally orientated, such a thing seems almost unthinkable, but it is none the less a fact, and I have often experienced it in my dealings with this type. The remarkable indifference of the extraverted intuitive in respect to outer objects is shared by the introverted intuitive in relation to the inner objects. Just as the extraverted intuitive is continually scenting out new GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 50? possibilities, which he pursues with an equal unconcern both for his own welfare and for that of others, pressing on quite heedless of human considerations, tearing down what has only just been established in his everlasting search for change, so the introverted intuitive moves from image to image, chasing after every possibility in the teeming womb of the unconscious, without establishing any connection between the phenomenon and himself. Just as the world can never become a moral problem for the man who merely senses it, so the world of images is never a moral problem to the intuitive. To the one just as much as to the other, it is an asthctic problem, a question of perception, a 'sensa- tion*. In this way, the consciousness of his own bodily existence fades from the introverted intuitive's view, as does its effect upon others. The extraverted standpoint would say of him : ' Reality has no existence for him ; he gives himself up to fruitless phantasies '. A perception of the unconscious images, produced in such inexhaustible abundance by the creative energy of life, is of course fruitless from the standpoint of immediate utility. But, since these images represent possible ways of viewing life, which in given circumstances have the power to provide a new energic potential, this function, which to the outer world is the strangest of all, is as indispensable to the total psychic economy as is the corresponding human type to' the psychic life of a people. Had this type not existed, there would have been no prophets in Israel. Introverted intuition apprehends the images which arise from the a priori, i.e. the inherited foundations of the unconscious mind. These archetypes, whose innermost nature is inaccessible to experience, represent the pre- cipitate of psychic functioning of the whole ancestral line, i.e. the heaped-up, or pooled, experiences of organic exist- ence in general, a million times repeated, and condensed into types. Hence, in these archetypes all experiences are 508 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES represented which since primeval time have happened on this planet. Their archetypal distinctness is the more marked, the more frequently and intensely they have been experienced. The archetype would be to borrow from Kant the noumenon of the image which intuition per- ceives and, in perceiving, creates. Since the unconscious is not just something that lies there, like a psychic caput mortuum, but is something that coexists and experiences inner transformations which are inherently related to general events, introverted intuition, through its perception of inner processes, gives certain data which may possess supreme importance for the compre- hension of general occurrences: it can even foresee new possibilities in more or less clear outline, as well as the event which later actually transpires. Its prophetic pre- vision is to be explained from its relation to the arche- types which represent the law-determined course of all experienceable things. 9. The Introverted Intuitive Type The peculiar nature of introverted intuition, when given the priority, also produces a peculiar type of man, viz. the mystical dreamer and seer on the one hand, or the fantasti- *cal crank and artist on the other. The latter might be regarded as the normal case, since there is a general tendency of this type to confine himself to the perceptive character of intuition. As a rule, the intuitive stops at perception; perception is his principal problem, and in the case of a productive artist the shaping of perception. But the crank contents himself with the intuition by which he himself is shaped and determined. Intensification of intuition naturally often results in an extraordinary aloof- ness of the individual from tangible reality ; he may even become a complete enigma to his own immediate circle. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 509 If an artist, he reveals extraordinary, remote things in his art, which in iridescent profusion embrace both the signifi- cant and the banal, the lovely and the grotesque, the whimsical and the sublime. If not an artist, he is frequently an unappreciated genius, a great man 'gone wrong ', a sort of wise simpleton, a figure for ' psychological ' novels. Although it is not altogether in the line of the intro- verted intuitive type to make of perception a moral problem, since a certain reinforcement of the rational functions is required for this, yet even a relatively slight differentiation of judgment would suffice to transfer in- tuitive perception from the purely aesthetic into the moral sphere. A variety of this type is thus produced which differs essentially from its aesthetic form, although none the less characteristic of the introverted intuitive. The moral .problem comes into being when the intuitive tries to relate himself to his vision, when he is no longer satisfied with mere perception and its aesthetic shaping and estimation, but confronts the question: What does this mean for me and for the world? What emerges from this vision in the way of a duty or task, either for me or for the world ? The pure intuitive who represses judgment or possesses it only under the spell of perception never meets this question fundamentally, since his only problem is the How of perception. He, therefore, finds the moral problem unintelligible, even absurd, and as far as possible forbids his thoughts to dwell upon the disconcerting vision. It is different with the morally orientated intuitive. He concerns himself with the meaning of his vision ; he troubles less about its further aesthetic possibilities than about the possible moral effects which emerge from its intrinsic significance. His judgment allows him to discern, though often only darkly, that he, as a man and as a totality, is in some way inter-related with his vision, that 5 io GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES it is something which cannot just be perceived but which also would fain become the life of the subject. Through this realization he feels bound to transform his vision into his own life. But, since he tends to rely exclusively upon his vision, his moral effort becomes one-sided ; he makes himself and his life symbolic, adapted, it is true, to the inner and eternal meaning of events, but unadapted to the actual present-day reality. Therewith he also deprives himself of any influence upon it, because he remains un- intelligible. His language is not that which is commonly spoken it becomes too subjective. His argument lacks convincing reason. He can only confess or pronounce His is the ' voice of one crying in the wilderness '. The introverted intuitive's chief repression falls upon the sensation of the object. His unconscious is character- ized by this fact. For we find in his unconscious a com- pensatory extraverted sensation function of an archaic character. The unconscious personality may, therefore, best be described as an extraverted sensation-type of a rather low and primitive order. Impulsiveness and un- restraint are the characters of this sensation, combined with an extraordinary dependence upon the sense im- pression. This latter quality is a compensation to the thin upper air of the conscious attitude, giving it a certain weight, so that complete ' sublimation ' is prevented. But if, through a forced exaggeration of the conscious attitude, a complete subordination to the inner perception should develop, the unconscious becomes an opposition, giving rise to compulsive sensations whose excessive dependence upon the object is in frank conflict with the conscious attitude. The form of neurosis is a compulsion-neurosis, exhibiting symptoms that are partly hypochondriacal manifestations, partly hypersensibility of the sense organs and partly compulsive ties to definite persons or other objects. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 511 10. Recapitulation of Introverted Irrational Types The two types just depicted are almost inaccessible to external judgment Because they are introverted and have in consequence a somewhat meagre capacity or willingness for expression, they offer but a frail handle for a telling criticism- Since their main activity is directed within, nothing is outwardly visible but reserve, secretive- ness, lack of sympathy, or uncertainty, and an apparently groundless perplexity. When anything does come to the surface, it usually consists in indirect manifestations of inferior and relatively unconscious functions. Manifesta- tions of such a nature naturally excite a certain environ- mental prejudice against these types. Accordingly they are mostly underestimated, or at least misunderstood To the same degree as they fail to understand themselves because they very largely lack judgment they are also powerless to understand why they are so constantly under- valued by public opinion. They cannot see that their outward-going expression is, as a matter of fact, also of an inferior character. Their vision is enchanted by the abundance of subjective events. What happens there is so captivating, and of such inexhaustible attraction, that they do not appreciate the fact that their habitual com- munications to their circle express very little of that real experience in which they themselves are, as it were, caught up. The fragmentary and, as a rule, quite episodic character of their communications make too great a demand upon the understanding and good will of their circle; furthermore, their mode of expression lacks that flowing warmth to the object which alone can have con- vincing force. On the contrary, these types show very often a brusque, repelling demeanour towards the outer world, although of this they are quite unaware, and have not the least intention of showing it. We shall form a 5 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES fairer judgment of such men and grant them a greatei indulgence, when we begin to realize how hard it is to translate into intelligible language what is perceived within. Yet this indulgence must not be so liberal as to exempt them altogether from the necessity of such ex- pression. This could be only detrimental for such types. Fate itself prepares for them, perhaps even more than for other men, overwhelming external difficulties, which have a very sobering effect upon the intoxication of the inner vision. But frequently only an intense personal need can wring from them a human expression. From an extraverted and rationalistic standpoint, such types are indeed the most fruitless of men* But, viewed from a higher standpoint, such men are living evidence of the fact that this rich and varied world with its overflowing and intoxicating life is not purely external, but also exists within. These types are admittedly onesided demonstra- tions of Nature, but they are an educational experience for the man who refuses to be blinded by the intellectual mode of the day. In their own way, men with such an attitude are educators and promoters of culture. Their life teaches more than their words. From their lives, and not the least from what is just their greatest fault, viz. their incommunicability, we may understand one of the greatest errors of our civilization, that is, the superstitious belief in statement and presentation, the immoderate overprizing of instruction by mean** of word and method. A child certainly allows himself to be impressed by the grand talk of its parents. But is it really imagined that the child is thereby educated ? Actually it is the parents' lives that educate the child what they add thereto by word and gesture at best serves only to confuse him. The same holds good for the teacher. But we have such a belief in method that, if only the method be good, the practice of it seems to hallow the teacher. An inferior GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 513 man is never a good teacher. But he can conceal his injurious inferiority, which secretly poisons the pupil, behind an excellent method or an equally brilliant intel- lectual capacity. Naturally the pupil of riper years desires nothing better than the knowledge of useful methods, because he is already defeated by the general attitude, which believes in the victorious method. He has already learnt that the emptiest head, correctly echoing a method, is the best pupil. His whole environment not only urges but exemplifies the doctrine that all success and happiness are external, and that only the right method is needed to attain the haven of one's desires. Or is the life of his religious instructor likely to demonstrate that happiness which radiates from the treasure of the inner vision ? The irrational introverted types are certainly no instructors of a more complete humanity. They lack reason and the ethics of reason, but their lives teach the other possibility, in which our civilization is so deplorably wanting. 11. The Principal and* Auxiliary Functions In the foregoing descriptions I have no desire to give my readers the impression that such pure types occur at all frequently in actual practice. They are, as it were, only Galtonesque family-portraits, which sum up in a cumulative image the common and therefore typical characters, stressing these disproportionately, while the individual features are just as disproportionately effaced. Accurate investigation of the individual case consistently reveals the fact that, in conjunction with the most differ- entiated function, another function of secondary importance, and therefore of inferior differentiation in consciousness, is constantly present, and is a relatively determining factor. 5 I4 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES For the sake of clarity let us again recapitulate : The products of all the functions can be conscious, but we speak of the consciousness of a function only when not merely its application is at the disposal of the will, but when at the same time its principle is decisive for the orientation of consciousness. The latter event is true when, for instance, thinking is not a mere esprit de 1'escalier, or rumination, but when its decisions possess an absolute validity, so that the logical conclusion in a given case holds good, whether as motive or as guarantee of practical action, without the backing of any further evidence. This absolute sovereignty always belongs, empirically, to one function alone, and can belong only to one function, since the equally independent intervention of another function would necessarily yield a different orientation, which would at least partially contradict the first. But, since it is a vital condition for the conscious adaptation-process that constantly clear and unambiguous aims should be in evidence, the presence of a second function of equivalent power is naturally forbidden. This other function, therefore, can have only a secondary importance, a fact which is also established empirically. Its secondary importance consists in the fact that, in a given case, it is not valid in its own right, as is the primary function, as an absolutely reliable and decisive factor, but comes into play more as an auxiliary or complementary function. Naturally only those functions can appear as auxiliary whose nature is not opposed to the leading function. For instance, feeling can never act as the second function by the side of thinking, because its nature stands in too strong a contrast to thinking. Thinking, if it is to be real thinking and true to its own principle, must scrupulously exclude feeling. This, of course, does not exclude the fact that individuals certainly exist in whom thinking and feeling stand upon the same GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 515 level, whereby both have equal motive power in con- sciousness. But, in such a case, there is also no question of a differentiated type, but merely of a relatively un- developed thinking and feeling. Uniform consciousness and unconsciousness of functions is, therefore, a distinguish- ing mark of a primitive mentality. Experience shows that the secondary function is always one whose nature is different from, though not antagonistic to, the leading function: thus, for example, thinking, as primary function, can readily pair with intuition as auxiliary, or indeed equally well with sensa- tion, but, as already observed, never with feeling. Neither intuition nor sensation are antagonistic to thinking, i.e. they have not to be unconditionally excluded, since they are not, like feeling, of similar nature, though of opposite purpose, to thinking for as a judging function feeling successfully competes with thinking but .are functions of perception, affording welcome assistance to thought As soon as they reached the same level of differentiation as thinking, they would cause a change of attitude, which would contradict the tendency of think- ing. For they would convert the judging attitude into a perceiving one ; whereupon the principle of rationality indispensable to thought would be suppressed in favour of the irrationality of mere perception. Hence the auxiliary function is possible and useful only in so far as it serves the leading function, without making any claim to the autonomy of its own principle. For all the types appearing in practice, the principle holds good that besides the conscious main function there is also a relatively* unconscious, auxiliary function which is in every respect different from the nature of the main function. From these combinations well-known pictures arise, the practical intellect for instance paired with sensation, the speculative intellect breaking through 516 GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES with intuition, the artistic intuition which selects and presents its images by means of feeling judgment, the philosophical intuition which, in league with a vigorous intellect, translates its vision into the sphere of compre- hensible thought, and so forth. A grouping of the unconscious functions also takes place in accordance with the relationship of the conscious functions. Thus, for instance, an unconscious intuitive- feeling attitude may correspond with a conscious practical intellect, whereby the function of feeling suffers a relatively stronger inhibition than intuition. This peculiarity, how- ever, is of interest only for one who is concerned with the practical psychological treatment of such cases. But for such a man it is important to know about it. For I have frequently observed the way in which a physician, in the case for instance of an exclusively intellectual subject, will, dp his utmost to develop the feeling function directly out of the unconscious. This attempt must always come to grief, since it involves too great a violation of the conscious standpoint Should such a violation succeed, there ensues a really compulsive dependence of the patient upon the physician, a 'transference* which can be aputated only by brutality, because such a violation the patient of a standpoint his physician becomes his standpoint But the approach to the unconscious and to the most repressed function is disclosed, as it were, of itself, and with more adequate protection of the conscious standpoint, when the way of development is via the secondary function thus in the case of a rational type by way of the irrational function. For this lends the conscious standpoint such a range and prospect over what is possible and imminent that consciousness gains an adequate protection against the destructive effect of the unconscious. Conversely, an irrational type demands a stronger development of the rational auxiliary function GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF TYPES 517 represented in consciousness, in order to be sufficiently prepared to receive the impact of the unconscious. The unconscious functions are in an archaic, animal state. Their symbolical appearances in dreams and phantasies usually represent the battle or coming encounter of two animals or monsters. CHAPTER XI DEFINITIONS IT may perhaps seem superfluous that I should add to my text a chapter dealing solely with definitions. But wide experience warns me that, in psychological work especially, one cannot proceed too cautiously when dealing with concepts and expressions; for nowhere do such lament- able conceptual divergences occur, as in the province of psychology, creating only too frequently the most obstinate misunderstandings. This drawback is due not only to the fact that the science of psychology is still in its infancy ; but there is also the difficulty that the material of experi- ence, the object of scientific consideration, cannot be displayed in concrete form, as it were, to the eyes of the reader. The psychological investigator is always finding himself obliged to make use of extensive, and in a sense indirect, description for the presentation of the reality he has observed. Only in so far as elementary facts are accessible to number and measure can there be any question of a direct presentation. But how much of the actual psychology of man can be witnessed and observed as mensurable facts? Such facts do exist, in the realm of psychology; indeed my Association Studies have, I think, demonstrated 1 that highly complicated psycho- logical phenomena are none the less accessible to methods of measure. But anyone who has probed more deeply into the nature of psychology, demanding something more of it than science in the wretchedly prescribed limits of a i Jung, Studies in Word Association: transl. by M. D. Eder (London : Heinemann). DEFINITIONS 5*9 natural science method is able to yield, will also have realized that an experimental method will never succeed in doing justice to the nature of the human soul, nor will it ever trace even an approximately faithful picture of the complicated psychic phenomena. But, when we leave the realm of mensurable facts, we are dependent upon concepts, which have now to assume the office of measure and number. That precision which exact measurements lend to the observed fact can be replaced only by the precision of the concept. Unfortunately, however, as is only too familiar to every investigator and worker in this field, current psychological concepts are involved in such uncertainty and ambiguity that mutual understanding is almost impossible. One has only to take the concept 'feeling', for instance, and attempt to visualize everything that this idea contains, to get some sort of notion of the variability and ambiguity of psycho- logical concepts. Nevertheless this concept does express something characteristic that is certainly inaccessible to rule and number and yet conceivably existing. One cannot simply resign oneself, as Wundt does in his physio- logical psychology, to a mere denial of the validity of such facts as essential basic phenomena, whereby they are either replaced by elementary facts or again resolved into such. For by so doing a primary element of psychology is entirely lost In order to escape the drawback this overvaluation of the natural science method involves, one is obliged to have recourse to well-defined concepts. But, before we could arrive at such concepts, the collaboration of many would be needed ; i.e. the consensus gentium, so to speak, would have to be invoked. But since .this is not within the immediate range of possibility, the individual pioneer must* at least strive to give his concepts some fixity and precision ; and this is best achieved by so elucidating the meaning of the 520 DEFINITIONS concepts he employs as to put everyone in a position to see what he means by them. It is in response to this need that I now propose to discuss my principal psychological concepts in alpha- betical order, and I must take this opportunity of request- ing the reader to refer to these interpretations in every case of doubt It must, of course, be understood that with these interpretations and definitions I merely wish to establish the sense in which I myself employ the concepts; far be it from me to affirm that such an application is the only possible one under all circum- stances, or even the absolutely correct interpretation. 1. Abstraction, as the word already implies, is the drawing out or isolation of a content (e.g. a meaning or general character, etc.) from a connection, containing other elements, whose combination as a totality is something unique or individual, and therefore inaccessible to com- parison. Singularity, uniqueness, and incomparability are obstacles to cognition, hence to the cognitive tendency the remaining elements, though felt to be essentially bound up with the content, must appear irrelevant. Abstraction, therefore, is that form of mental activity which releases the essential content or fact from its con- nection with irrelevant elements ; it distinguishes it from them, or, in other words, differentiates it. (v. Differentiation j. In its wider sense, everything is abstract that is separated from its connection with non-appertaining elements. Abstraction is an activity belonging to psychological functions in general. There is a thinking which abstracts, just as there is abstracting feeling, sensation, and intuition, (v. these concepts). Abstracting - thinking brings into relief a content that is distinguished from other irrelevant elements by its intellectual, logical qualities. Abstracting- feeling does the same with a content characterized by DEFINITIONS 521 feeling; similarly with sensation and intuition. Hence, not only are there abstract thoughts but also abstract feelings, which latter are defined by Sully as intellectual, aesthetic, and moral 1 . Nahlowsky adds the religious feeling to these. Abstract feelings would, in my view, corre- spond with the * higher ' or ' ideal ' feelings of Nahlowsky 2 , I put abstract feelings on the same line as abstract thoughts. Abstract sensation would be aesthetic as dis- tinguished from sensual sensation (v. Sensation), and abstract intuition would be symbolical as opposed to phantastical intuition, (v. Phantasy, and Intuition). In this work, the concept of abstraction is linked up with the idea of the psycho-energic process involved in it. When I assume an abstracting attitude towards an object, I do not let the object affect me in its totality, but I distinguish a portion of it from its connections, at the same time excluding the irrelevant parts. My purpose is to rid myself of the object as a single and unique whole, and to extract only a portion of it. Awareness of the whole undoubtedly takes place, but I do not plunge myself into this awareness ; my interest does not flow out into the totality, but withdraws itself from the object as a whole, bringing the abstracted portion 'into myself, I.e. into my conceptual world, which is already prepared or constellated for .the purpose of abstracting a part of the object. (It is only by virtue of a subjective constellation of concepts that I possess the power of abstracting from the object). 'Interest* I conceive as that energy = libido (v. Libido), which I bestow upon the object as value, or which the object draws from me, even maybe against my will or unknown to myself. I visualize the abstracting process, therefore, as a withdrawal of libido from the object, or as a backflow of value from the object to a Sully, The Human Mind, vol. ii, ch. 16. s Nahlowsky, Das GefUhlsltben, p. 48. 5*2 DEFINITIONS subjective, abstract content. Thus, for me, abstraction has the meaning of an energic depreciation of the object. In other words, abstraction can be expressed as an intro- verting libido-movement. I call an attitude (v. Attitude) abstracting when it is both introverting and at the same time assimilates to already prepared abstract contents in the subject a certain essential portion of the object The more abstract a content the more unrepresentable it is.. I adhere to Kant's view, which maintains that a concept is the more abstract, " the more it excludes the differences of things " \ in the sense that abstraction at its highest level is absolutely removed from the object, thereby attaining the extreme limit of unrepresentability. It is this abstraction which I term the idea (t>. Idea). Conversely, an abstraction that still possesses representability or obviousness is a concrete (y. Concretism) concept. 2. Affect. By the term affect we understand a state of feeling characterized by a perceptible bodily innervation on the one hand and a peculiar disturbance of the idea- tional process on the other 8 . I use emotion as synony- mous with affect I distinguish in contrast to Bleuler (0. Affectivity) -feeling from affect, in spite of the fact that no definite demarcation exists, since every feeling, after attaining a certain strength, releases physical innerva- tions, thus becoming an affect. On practical grounds, however, it is advisable to discriminate affect from feeling, since feeling can be a disposable function, whereas affect is usually not so. Similarly, affect is clearly distinguished from feeling by quite perceptible physical, innervations, while feeling for the most part lacks them, or their intensity i Kant, Logic, 6. * Cf. Wundt. Grundxeichnuitgtn der physiolog. Psychologi*, 5te Aufl. in, pp. 309 flL DEFINITIONS 5*3 is so slight that they can only be demonstrated by the finest instruments, as for example the psycho-galvanic phenomenon 1 . Affect becomes cumulative through the sensation of the physical innervations released by it This perception gave rise to the James-Lang theory of affect, which would make bodily innervations wholly responsible for affects. As opposed to this extreme view, I regard affect as a psychic feeling-state on the one hand, and as a physiological innervation-state on the other ; each of which has a cumulative, reciprocal effect upon the other, i.e. a component of sensation is joined to the reinforced feeling, through which the affect is approxi- mated more to sensation (v. Sensation), and differentiated essentially from the state of feeling. Pronounced affects, i.e. affects accompanied by violent physical innervation, I do not assign to the province of feeling but to the realm of the sensation function (v. Function). 3. Affectivity is a concept coined by Bleuler. Affec- tivity designates and embraces "not only the affects proper, but also the slight feelings or feeling-tones of pain and pleasure." 2 On the one hand, Bleuler distin- guishes from affectivity all sensations and other bodily perceptions, and, on the other, such feelings as may be regarded as inner perception-processes (e.g. the 'feeling* of certainty pr probability) 8 or indistinct thoughts or discernments (pp. 13 fF.). * Fere", Note sur fas modifications de la resistance eleetrique, etc. (Comptes-Rendus de la Sorieti de Biologie, 1888, pp. 217 ff.) Veraguth, Das Psychogalvanische Reflexphamomen (Monatsschr. /. Psych, u. Neurol., XXI, p. 387) Jung, On Psychophysical Relations, etc. (Journal of Abnormal Psychology, i, 247) Binswanger, On Psychogatoanic Phenomenon in Assoc. Experi- ments (Jung, Studies in Word Association, p. 446) * Bleuler, AffehtiviW, Suggestibitdt, Paranoia (1906), p. 6. Which in reality are intuitions. 524 DEFINITIONS 4. Anima v. Soul. 5. Apperception is a psychic process by which a new content is articulated to similar already-existing contents in such a way as to be understood, apprehended, or clear \ We discriminate active from passive apperception; the former is a process by which the subject of himself, from his own motives, consciously and attentively apprehends a new content and assimilates it to another content stand- ing in readiness; the latter is a process in which a new content from without (through the senses) or from within (from the unconscious) presses through into consciousness and, to a certain extent, compels attention and apprehen- sion upon itself. In the former case, the accent of activity lies with the ego ; in the latter, with the obtruding new content 6. Archaism : With this term, I designate the ancient character of psychic contents and functions. By this I do not mean archaistic, i.e. imitated antiquity, as exhibited for instance in the later Roman sculpture or the nineteenth century c Gothic ', but qualities which have the character of survival. All those psychological traits can be so described which essentially correspond with the qualities of primitive mentality. It is clear that archaism primarily clings to the phantasies of the unconscious, i.e. to such products of unconscious phantasy-activity as reach consciousness. The quality of the image is archaic when it possesses unmistakable mythological parallels 2 . The analogy- associations of unconscious phantasy are archaic, as is their symbolism (v. Symbol). The relation of identity with the object (v. Identity), or " participation mystique " (q.v.) is archaic. Concretism of thought and feeling is i a. Wundt. Grundrtg* for physiolog. Psychohgie, i, 322. * Cf. Jang, Psychology ofth* Unconscious. DEFINITIONS 535 archaic. Compulsion and inability for self-control (being carried away) are also archaic. That condition in which the psychological functions are fused or merged one into the other (v. Differentiation) is archaic the fusion, for instance, of thinking with feeling, feeling with sensation, or feeling with intuition. Furthermore, the coalescence of parts of a function (' audition colorize '), ambitendency and ambivalency (Bleuler), i.e. the state of fusion with its counterpart, e.g. positive with negative feeling, is also archaic. 7. Assimilation is the absorption or joining up of a new conscious content to already prepared subjective material x , whereby the similarity of the new content with the waiting subjective material is specially emphasized, even to the prejudice of the independent quality of the new content 2 . Fundamentally, assimilation is a process of apperception (v. Apperception), which, however, is dis- tinguished from pure apperception by this element of adjustment to the subjective material. It is in this sense that Wundt says 8 : "This method of acquisition (viz. assimilation) stands out most obviously in representations where the assimilating elements arise through reproduc- tion and the assimilated material through a direct sense- impression. For then the elements of memory-images are transferred, as it were, into the outer object, which is especially the case when the object and the reproduced elements differ so considerably from each other that the completed sense-perception appears as an illusion, de- ceiving us as to the actual nature of things," I employ assimilation in a somewhat broader sense, namely as the adjustment of object to subject in general, and with it I contrast dissimilation, which represents the i Wundt, Logic, i. 20. * Cf. Lipps, Leitfaden for Psychology, 2te Aufl., p. 104. * Wundt, Grundx&ge d. physiolog. Psyckol. iii, 529. 526 DEFINITIONS adjustment of subject to object, and a consequent estrange- ment of the subject from himself in favour of the object, whether it be an external object or a ' psychological ' or inner object, as for instance an idea. 8. Attitude (Einstellung) : This concept is a relatively recent acquisition to psychology. It originated with Miiller and Schumann \ Whereas Kulpe * defines attitude as a predisposition of the sensory or motor centres to a definite stimulation or persistent impulse, Ebbinghaus 8 conceives it in a wider sense as a phenomenon of exercise, introducing an air of the customary into the individual act which deviates from the customary. Our use of the concept proceeds, from Ebbinghaus' conception of attitude. For us, attitude is a readiness of the psyche to act or to react in a certain direction. It is precisely for the psychology of complex psychic phenomena that the concept is so important, since it provides an expression for that peculiar psychological phenomenon wherein we find certain stimuli exercising a powerful effect on one occasion, while their effect is either weak or wholly absent on another. To have a certain attitude means to be ready for something definite, even though this definite something is unconscious, since having an attitude is synonymous with an a priori direction towards a definite thing, whether this be present in consciousness or not The state of readiness, which I conceive attitude to be, always consists in the presence of a certain subjective constellation, a definite combination of psychic factors or contents, which will either determine action in this or that definite direction, or will comprehend an external stimulus in this or that definite way. Active apperception (q.v.) is impossible without an attitude. An attitude always has an objective ; this can be either con- * Pfl&gers Archiv, voL 45, 37. Grundg. d. Psychol., p. 44- Ibid., i, 681 ft. DEFINITIONS 527 scious or unconscious, since in the act of apperceiving a new content a prepared combination of contents unfail- ingly emphasizes those qualities or motives which appear to belong to the subjective content Hence a selection or judgment takes place which excludes the irrelevant As to what is, and what is not, relevant is decided by the already orientated combination or constellation of contents. Whether the attitude's objective be conscious or unconscious is immaterial to its selective effect, since the choice is already given a priori through the attitude, and therefore follows automatically. It is useful, however, to distinguish between conscious and unconscious, since the presence of two attitudes is extremely frequent, the one conscious and the other unconscious. Which means to say that the conscious has a preparedness of contents different from that of the unconscious. This duality of attitude is particularly evident in neurosis. There is a certain kinship between the concept of attitude and the apperception concept of Wundt, though with this difference, that the idea of apperception includes the process of relating the already prepared content to the new content to be apperceived, while the concept of attitude relates exclusively to the subjectively prepared content Apperception is, as it were, the bridge which connects the already present and prepared content with the new content, the attitude being, in a sense, the end- pier or abutment of the bridge upon the one bank, while the new content represents the abutment upon the other bank. Attitude signifies an expectation, an expectation always operates selectively it gives direction. The presence of a strongly toned content in the field of con- sciousness forms (sometimes together with other contents) a certain constellation which is synonymous with a definite attitude, because such a conscious content favours the perception and apperception of everything similar, 528 DEFINITIONS and inhibits the dissimilar. It creates an attitude corre- sponding with it This automatic phenomenon is an essential cause of the onesidedness of conscious orientation. It would lead to a complete loss of equilibrium if there were no self-regulating, compensatory (q.v.) function in the psyche to correct the conscious attitude. Thus in this sense the duality of the attitude is a normal phenomenon, which plays 'a disturbing r61e only when conscious one- sidedness becomes excessive. As ordinary attention, the attitude can be either a relatively unimportant subsidiary phenomenon or a general principle determining the whole psyche. From disposition, environmental influence, education, general experience, or conviction a constellation of contents may be habitually present, continually moulding a certain attitude which may operate even down to the most minute details of life. Every man who has a special sense of the unpleasant side of life will naturally have an attitude of constant readiness for the disagreeable. This excessive conscious attitude is counterbalanced by an unconscious attitude for pleasure The oppressed individual has a conscious attitude that always anticipates oppression; he selects this factor in experience ; everywhere he scents it out ; and in so doing his unconscious attitude makes for power and superiority. The total psychology of the individual even in its various basic characters is orientated by the nature of his habitual attitude. In spite of the fact that general psychological laws are operative in every individual, they cannot be said to be characteristic of the individual, since the nature of their operation varies completely in accord- ance with the nature of the general attitude. The general attitude is always a resultant of all the factors that can have an essential influence upon the psyche, such as inborn disposition, education, milieu-influences, experience of life, insight and convictions gained through differentia- DEFINITIONS . 529 tion (q.v.), collective ideas, etc. Without the absolutely fundamental importance of attitude, there would be no question of the existence of an individual psychology. But the general attitude effects such immense displace- ments of energy, and so modifies the relations between individual functions, that resultants are produced which frequently bring the validity of general psychological laws into question. In spite of the fact, for instance, that a certain measure of activity is held to be indispensable for the sexual function both on physiological and psycho- logical grounds, individuals certainly exist who, without injury to themselves, i.e. without pathological phenomena and without any demonstrable restriction of productive power, can, to a very great extent, dispense with it ; while, in other cases, quite insignificant deprivations or disturb- ances in this region may involve very considerable general consequences. How potent individual differences can be is seen perhaps most clearly in questions of likes and dislikes. Here practically all rules go by the board. What is there, in the last resort, which has not at one time given man pleasure, while at another has caused him pain ? Every instinct, every function can be subordinated to other instincts and functions and act as a servant. The ego or power-instinct can make sexuality its serviceable subject, or sexuality make use of the ego. Thinking may over-run everything else, or feeling swallow up thinking and sensation, all in obedience to the attitude. Au fond, the attitude is an individual phenomenon and is inaccessible to the scientific method of approach. In actual experience, however, certain attitude-types can be discriminated in so far as certain psychic functions cari also be differentiated. When a function habitually pre- dominates, a typical attitude is thereby produced. In accordance with the nature of the differentiated function, constellations of contents take place which create a cor- s 530 DEFINITIONS responding attitude. Thus there exist a typical thinking, a feeling, a sensational, and an intuitive attitude. Besides these purely psychological attitude-types, whose number might possibly be increased, there are also social types, namely, those for whom a collective idea expresses the brand. They are characterized by the various '-isms'. These collective attitudes are, at all events, very important in certain cases, even outweighing in significance the purely individual attitude. 9. Collective: All those psychic contents I term col- lective which are peculiar not to one individual, but to many, at the same time, i.e. either to a society, a people, or to mankind in general. Such contents are the " mystical collective ideas " (" representations collectives") of the primitive described by L6vy-Bruhl l ; they include also the general concepts of right, the State, religion, science, etc., current among civilized man. It is not only concepts and ways of looking at things, however, which must be termed collective, but also feelings. Lvy-Bruhl shows that for the primitives collective ideas also represent collective feelings. By virtue of this collective feeling value he also terms the rt repr&entations collectives", 'mystiques" since these representations are not merely intellectual but also emotional 8 . With civilized peoples, collective feelings are also bound up with certain collective ideas, such for example as the idea of God, justice, father- land, etc. The collective character does not merely cling to individual psychic elements, it also involves whole functions (q.v.). Thus, for instance, thinking can have the character of a wholly collective function, in so far as it possesses a generally valid quality, when, for example, it agrees with the laws of logic Feeling can also be a i Lvy Bruhl, Les fonctions mentoles dans Its socitUs infrieures t pp. 27 if, * Ibid., pp. 28 ff. DEFINITIONS 531 wholly collective function, in so far as it is identical with the general feeling, when, in other words, it corresponds with general expectations or with the general moral consciousness. In the same way, that sensation or manner of sensing, and that intuition, are collective which are peculiar to a large group of men at the same time. The antithesis of collective is individual (q.v.). 10. Compensation means a balancing or supplementing. This concept was actually introduced x into the psychology of the neuroses by Adler*. He understands by it a functional adjustment of the feeling of inferiority by a compensating psychological system, comparable to the compensating development of organs in organic in- feriority 8 . Thus Adler says: "For these inferior organs and organ-systems the struggle with the outer world begins with the release from the maternal organism, a struggle which must necessarily break out and declare itself with greater violence than ever occurs in the more normally developed apparatus. At the same time, how- ever, the foetal character provides an enhanced possibility for compensation and overcompensation, increases the capacity for adaptation to ordinary and extraordinary resistances, and ensures the formation of new and higher forms and achievements."* The neurotic's inferiority, feeling, which according to Adler corresponds aetiologically with an organ - inferiority, brings about an "auxiliary construction" 5 ; in other words, a compensation, which consists in the setting-up of a fiction to balance the inferiority. The fiction or "fictitious guiding line" is a i Allusions to the theory of compensation, originally inspired by Anton are also to be found in Gross. * Adler, The Neurotic Constitution : transl. by Gluck and Land, (London : Kegan Paul & Co.) * Adler, Studie uber Mindtrwertigkeit von Organen. 1907. * The Neurotic Constitution, p. 7. Ibid., p. 14. 33*. DEFINITIONS psychological system which seeks to convert the inferiority into a superiority. This conception gains significance in the undeniable existence for we have all experienced it of a compensating function in the sphere of psychological processes. It corresponds with a similar function in the physiological sphere, namely, the self-regulation or self- direction of the living organism. Whereas Adler restricts his concept of compensation to a mere balancing of the feeling of inferiority, I conceive it as a general functional adjustment, an inherent self- regulation of the psychic apparatus 1 . In this sense, I regard the activity of the unconscious (q.v.) as a com- pensation to the onesidedness of the general attitude produced by the function of consciousness. Psychologists often compare consciousness to the eye: we speak of a visual-field and of a focal point of consciousness. The nature of consciousness is aptly characterized by this simile : only a few contents can attain the highest grade of consciousness at the same time, and only a limited number of contents can be held at the same time in the conscious field. The activity of the conscious is selective. Selection demands direction. But direction requires the exclusion of everything irrelevant. On occasion, therefore, a certain onesidedness of the conscious orientation is in- evitable. The contents that are excluded and inhibited by the chosen direction sink into the unconscious, where by ^virtue of their effective existence they form a definite counterweight against the conscious orientation. The strengthening of this counterposition keeps pace with the intensification of the conscious onesidedness until finally a noticeable tension is produced. This tension involves a certain inhibition of the conscious activity which can assuredly be broken down by increased conscious effort. i Jung, Collected Papers on Analytical Psychology, 2nd edn., pp, 278 ff. (JLondon : Baillitoe) DEFINITIONS 533 But as time goes on, the tension becomes so acute that the inhibited unconscious contents begin to break through into consciousness in the form of dreams and spontaneous images. The more onesided the conscious attitude, the more antithetic are the contents arising from the uncon- scious, so that we may speak of a real opposition between the conscious and the unconscious; in which case, com- pensation appears in the form of a contrasting function Such a case is extreme. Compensation by the unconscious is, as a rule, not so much a contrast as a levelling up or supplementing of the conscious orientation. In dreams, for instance, the unconscious may supply all those contents which are constellated by the conscious situation, but which are inhibited by conscious selection, although a knowledge of them would be quite indispensable to a complete adaptation. In the normal condition the compensation is un- conscious, i.e. it performs an unconscious regulation of conscious activity. In the neurotic state the unconscious appears in such strong contrast to the conscious that compensation is disturbed. The aim of analytical therapy, therefore, is to make the unconscious coo- tents conscious in order that compensation may be re- established. 11. Concretism : By this term I understand a definite peculiarity of thought and feeling which represents -the antithesis to abstraction. The actual meaning of concrete is * grown together'. A concretely-thought concept is one that has grown together or coalesced with other concepts. Such a concept is not abstract, not isolated, and independently thought, but always impure and related. It is not a differentiated concept, but is still embedded in the sense-conveyed material of perception. Concre- tistic thinking moves among exclusively concrete con- 534 DEFINITIONS cepts and views; it is constantly related to sensation. Similarly concretistic feeling is never free from sensuous relatedness. Primitive thinking and feeling are exclusively con- cretistic; they are always related to sensation. The thought of the primitive has no detached independence, but clings to the material phenomenon. The most he can do is to raise it to the level of analogy. Primitive feeling is always equally related to the material phen- omenon. His thought and feeling depend upon sensation and are only faintly differentiated from it Concretism, therefore, is an archaism (j.v.). The magical influence of the fetish is not experienced as a subjective state of feeling, but sensed as a magical effect. This is the concretism of feeling. The primitive does not experience the idea of divinity as a subjective content, but the sacred tree is the habitat nay, even the deity' himself. This is concretism of thinking. With civilized man, con- cretism of thought consists in the inability to conceive of anything which differs from the immediately obvious external facts, or in the inability to discriminate subjective feeling from the sense-given object Concretism is a concept which falls under the more general concept of * participation mystique" (q.v.). Just as "participation mystique" represents a fusion of the individual with outer objects, so concretism represents a mixing-up of thought and feeling with sensation. It is a state of concretism when the object of thinking and feeling is at the same time also an object of sensation. This coalescence prevents a differentiation of thought and feeling, anchoring both functions within the sphere of sensation, i.e. sensuous relatedness ; accordingly they can never be developed into pure functions, but must always remain the mere retainers of sensation. The result of this is a predominance of the factor of sensation in the DEFINITIONS 535 psychological orientation. (Concerning the importance of the factor of sensation v. Sensation; Types); The disadvantage of concretism is the subjection of function to sensation. Because sensation is the perception of physiological stimuli, concretism either rivets the function to the sphere of sense or constantly leads it back there. The effect of this is a sensual subjection of the psychological functions, favouring the influence of external facts at the expense of individual psychic autonomy. From the standpoint of the recognition of facts, this orientation is, of course, valuable, but from the standpoint of the interpretation of facts and their relation to the individual it is definitely prejudicial. Concretism produces a state where facts gain the paramount import- ance, thereby suppressing the individuality and its freedom in favour of the objective process. But since the individual is not only determined by physiological stimuli, but also by factors which may even be opposed to the external fact, concretism effects a projection of these inner factors into the outer fact, thus provoking an almost superstitious overvaluation of mere facts, as is precisely the case with the primitive. A good example of this is seen in Nietzsche, whose concretism of feeling resulted in an excessive valua- tion of diet; the materialism of Moleschott is a similar instance ("Man is what he eats"). An example of the superstitious overvaluation of facts is also provided by the hypostasizing of the concept of energy in the monism of Ostwald 12. Consciousness : By consciousness I understand the relatedness of psychic contents to the ego (v. Ego) in so far as they are sensed as such by the ego l . In so far as relations are not sensed as such by the ego, they are un- i Natorp, EinUitung in dw Psych. , p. n. Also Lipps, Leitfadtn for Psych., p. 3. 536 DEFINITIONS conscious (q.v.). Consciousness is the function or activity l which maintains the relation of psychic contents with the ego. Consciousness is not identical with psyche, since, in my view, psyche represents the totality of all the psychic contents, and these are not necessarily all bound up directly with the ego, i.e. related to it in such a way that they take on the quality of consciousness. . There exist a great many psychic complexes and these are not all, necessarily, connected with the ego *. 13. Constructive : This concept is used by me in an equivalent sense to synthetic, almost in fact as an illustra- tion of the latter concept. Constructive means ' building up '. I employ ' constructive ' and ' synthetic ', in describing a method that is opposed to the reductive 8 . The con- structive method is concerned with the elaboration of unconscious products (dreams, phantasies, etc.). It takes the unconscious product as a basis or starting point, as a symbolical (q.v.) expression, which, stretching on ahead as it were, represents a coming phase of psychological development 4 . In this connection, Maeder actually speaks of a prospective function of the unconscious, which half playfully anticipates the future psychological develop- ment . Adler, too, recognises an anticipatory function of the unconscious 6 . It is obvious that the product of the unconscious must not be regarded as a finished thing, a sort of end-product; for in this case it would be dis- * Cf. Riehl (jr. Einf. in die Phil., 161), who regards consciousness as both " activity " and " process ". f Jung, The Psychology of Dementia Pracox. 8 Jung, Content of the Psychoses (Collected Papers, 2nd edn., ch. 4 A detailed example of this is to be found in Jung, Psych, and Path, of so-called Occult Phenomena (Collected Papers, 2nd edn.) 5 Maeder, The Dream Problem (Monograph Series. Nervous and Mental Disease Pub. Co., New York) Adler, The Neurotic Constitution. DEFINITIONS 537 possessed of every practical significance. Even Freud allows the dream a teleological rdle as the " guardian of sleep" 1 , although for him its prospective function is essentially restricted to " wishes ". The practical character of unconscious tendencies, however, cannot be disputed a priori, if we are to accept the analogy with other psycho- logical or physiological functions. We conceive the product of the unconscious, therefore, as an expression orientated to a goal or purpose, but characterizing the objective in symbolical metaphor 8 . In accordance with this conception, the constructive method of interpretation is not so much concerned with the basic sources underlying the unconscious product, or with the mere raw materials as such, as it is with the aim to raise the symbolical product to a general and comprehensible expression 3 . The free associations of the unconscious product are thus considered with a view to a psychological objective and not from the standpoint of derivation. They are viewed from the angle of future action or inaction ; their relation to the conscious situation is thereby scrupulously considered, for with the com- pensatory conception of the unconscious its activity has an essentially supplementary significance for the conscious situation. Since it is now a question of an anticipatory orientation, the actual relation to the object does not loom so large as in the reductive procedure, which is preoccupied with the actual past relations with the object. It is much more a question of the subjective attitude, in which the object merely signifies a sign of the subjective tendencies. The aim of the constructive method, i Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams. * Silberer, Problems of Mysticism and- its Symbolism : transl. by Dr S. E. Jelliffe (London, Kegan Paul & Co.) pp. 149 ff., expresses himself in a similar sense in his formulation of anagogic significance. * Jung, The Psychology of Unconscious Processes (Collected Papers, nd Ed.) S* 53 DEFINITIONS therefore, is the production of a meaning from the uncon- scious product which is definitely related to the subject's future attitude. Since, as a rule, the unconscious has the power of shaping only symbolical expressions, the con- structive method seeks to elucidate the symbolically expressed meaning in such a way that a correct indication is supplied to the conscious orientation, whereby the subject may discover that harmony with the unconscious which his future action requires. Thus, just as no psychological method of interpretation is based exclusively upon the association-material of the analysant, the constructive method also makes use of certain comparative material. And, just as the reductive interpretation employs parallels drawn from biological, physiological, literary, folk-lore, and other sources, the constructive treatment of the intellectual problem is dependent upon philosophical parallels, while the intuitive problem is referred to parallels in mythology and the history of religion. The constructive method is necessarily individualistic, since a future collective attitude is developed only through the individual. The reductive method is, on the contrary, collective, since it leads back from the individual case to general basic attitudes or facts. The constructive method can be directly applied also by the subject upon his own material. In this latter case it is an intuitive method, devoted to the elucidation of the general meaning of an unconscious product This elucidation succeeds through an associative (hence not actively apperceptive ; q.v.) articu- lation of wider material, which so enriches and deepens the symbolical expression of the unconscious that it eventually attains a degree of clarity through which it can become comprehensible to consciousness. Through this enriching of the symbolical expression it becomes interwoven with more universal associations, and is therewith assimilated; DEFINITIONS 539 14. Differentiation means the development of differ- ences, the separation of parts from a whole. In this work I employ the concept chiefly in respect to psychological functions. So long as one function is still so merged with one or more of the other functions as for example thinking with feeling, or feeling with sensation, etc. as to be quite unable to appear alone, it is in an archaic (q.v.) state, and therefore undifferentiated, i.c. it is not separated out as a special part from the whole having its own independent existence. An undifferentiated thinking is incapable of thinking apart from other functions, i.e. it is constantly mixed up with sensations, feelings, or intuitions; such thinking may, for instance, become blended with sensations and phantasies, as exemplified in the sexualization (Freud) of feeling and thinking in neurosis. The undifferentiated function is also commonly characterized by the qualities of ambivalency and ambitmdency 1 , i.e. every positive brings with it an equally strong negative, whereby characteristic inhibitions spring up in the application of the undifferen- tiated function. Such a function suffers also from a fusing together of its individual parts; thus an undifferentiated faculty of sensation, for instance, is impaired through an amalgamation of the separate spheres of sensation ("audition colorize"), and undifferentiated feeling through confounding hatred with love. Just so far as a function is wholly or mainly unconscious is it also undifferentiated, i.e. it is not only fused together in its parts but also merged with other functions. Differentiation consists in the separation of the selected function from other functions, and in the separation of its individual parts from each other. Without differentia- i Bleuler, Die Negative Suggestibilitdt (Psych. New. Wochenschr., 1904, 27-28). Idem, Zur Theorie des Schixophrenen Negativismus (Psych. Neur Woehensckr., 19x0, 18-21). Idem, Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie, pp. 92, 285. 340 DEFINITIONS tion direction is impossible, since the direction of a function is dependent upon the isolation and exclusion of the irrelevant. Through fusion with what is irrelevant, direc- tion becomes impossible'; only a differentiated function proves itself capable of direction. 15. Dissimilation: v. Assimilation. 16. Ego : By ego, I understand a complex of repre- sentations which constitutes the centrum of my field of consciousness and appears to possess a very high degree of continuity and identity. Hence I also speak of an ego-complex x . The ego-complex is as much a content as it is a con- dition of consciousness (?.v.), since a psychic element is conscious to me just in so far as it is related to my ego- complex. But, inasmuch as the ego is only the centrum of my field of consciousness, it is not identical with the totality of my psyche, being merely a complex among other complexes. Hence I discriminate between the ego and the Self, since the ego is only the subject of my con- sciousness, while the Self is the subject of my totality: hence it also includes the unconscious psyche. In this sense the Self would be an (ideal) factor which embraces and includes the ego. In unconscious phantasy the Self often appears as a super-ordinated or ideal personality, .as Faust in relation to Goethe and Zarathustra to Nietzsche. In the effort of idealization the archaic features of the Self are represented as practically severed from the 'higher' Self, as in the figure of Mephisto with Goethe or in that of Epimetheus with Spitteler. In the Christian psychology the severance is extreme in the figures of Christ and the devil or Anti-Christ ; while with Nietzsche Zarathustra dis- covers his shadow in the ' ugliest man '. * Tung, The Psychology of Dementia Praeo*. DEFINITIONS 541 17. Emotion v. Affect. 18. Enantiodromia means 'a running counter to 1 , In the philosophy of Heraclitus 1 this concept is used to designate the play of opposites in the course of events, namely, the view which maintains that everything that exists goes over into its opposite. " From the living comes death, and from the dead, life ; from the young, old age ; and from the old, youth; from waking, sleep; and from sleep, waking ; the stream of creation and decay never stands still." 2 " Construction and destruction, destruction and construction this is the norm which rules in every circle of natural life from the smallest to the greatest. Just as the cosmos itself emerged from the primal fire, so must it return once more into the same a double process running its measured course through vast periods, a drama eternally re-enacted." 8 This is the enantiodromia of Heraclitus in the words of qualified interpreters. There are abundant sayings from the mouth of Heraclitus himself which express the same view. Thus he says : " Even Nature herself striveth after the opposite, bringing harmony not from like things, but from contrasts." " When they are born, they prepare to live, and therewith to suffer death." " For souls it is death to become water, for water death to become earth. From the earth cometh water, and from water soul." " Everywhere mutual exchange ; the All in exchange for fire, and fire in exchange for the All, just as gold for wares and wares for gold." 1 Stobaeus, Ekl. i, 58 : " eifMptdwiv ft \fyov to rijs . a Zeller, History of Greek Philosophy : transl. by S. F. Alleyne, vol. ii, p. 17 (London : Longmans & Co.) * Gompcrz, Greek Thinkers, vol. i : transl. by Laurie Magnus, p. 64 (London : Murray, 1901) 542 DEFINITIONS In a psychological application of his principle Heraclitus says: " Let ye never lack riches, O Ephesians, lest your depravity cometh to the light. * I use the term enantiodromia to describe the emergence of the unconscious opposite, with particular relation to its chronological sequence. This characteristic phenomenon occurs almost universally wherever an extreme, onesided tendency dominates the conscious life; for this involves the gradual development of an equally strong, unconscious counterposition, which first becomes manifest in an in- hibition of conscious activities, and subsequently leads to an interruption of conscious direction. A good example of enantioclromia is seen in the psychology of Saul of Tarsus and his conversion to Christianity ; as also in the story of the conversion of Raymond Lully; 2 in the Christ-identification of the sick Nietzsche with his deifica- tion and subsequent hatred of Wagner; in the trans- formation of Swedenborg from scholar into seer, etc. 19. Extraversion means an outward-turning of the libido (q.v.). With this concept I denote a manifest relatedness of subject to object in the sense of a positive movement of subjective interest towards the object. Everyone in the state of extraversion thinks, feels, and acts in relation to the object, and moreover in a direct and clearly observable fashion, so that no doubt can exist about his positive dependence upon the object In a sense, therefore, extraversion is an outgoing transference of interest from the subject to the object If it is an intellectual extraversion, the subject thinks himself into the object ; if a feeling extraversion, then the subject feels * Diels, Die Fragment* der Vorsokratiker, 2te AufL, i, 79 (1907). * Doctor Dluminatus ' (1234-1315), who as a soldier was notorious for his debaucheries, but later entirely changed his way of life and be- came a crusader against the DEFINITIONS 543 himself into the object The state of extraversion means a strong, if not exclusive, determination by the object. One should speak of an active extraversion when deliber- ately willed, and of a passive extraversion when the object compels it, i.e. attracts the interest of the subject of its own accord, even against the tatter's intention. Should the state of extraversion become habitual, the extroverted type (v. Type) appears. 20. Peeling (Fuhlen) : I count feeling among the four basic psychological functions. I am unable to support the psychological school that regards feeling as a secondary phenomenon dependent upon "presentations" or sensa- tions, but in company with Hoffding, Wundt, Lehmann, Kulpe, Baldwin, and others, I regard it as an independent function sui generis. 1 Feeling is primarily a process that takes place between the ego and a given content, a process, moreover, that imparts to the content a definite value in the sense of acceptance or rejection ('like* or Dislike'); but it can also appear, as it were, isolated in the form of 'mood 1 , quite apart from the momentary contents of consciousness or momentary sensations. This latter process may be causally related to previous conscious contents, though not necessarily so, since, as psychopathology abundantly proves, it can take origin equally well from unconscious contents. But even the mood, whether it be regarded as a general or only a partial feeling, signifies a valuation; not, however, a valuation of one definite, individual, i For the history both of the theory and concept of feeling compare : Wundt, Grundx. d. Physiolog. Psych. Idem, Grundr. d. Psychol., pp. 35 ff. Nahlowsky, Das Gef&hlsleben in seinen westntlichcm Erscheinungen. Ribot, Psychologic der GefVhle. Lehmann, Die Hauptgesetoe des menschlichen GefHhklebens. Villa, Contemporary Psychology, transl. by H. Manacorda (1903 J- 544 DEFINITIONS conscious content, but of the whole conscious situation at the moment, and, once again, with special reference to the question of acceptance or rejection. Feeling, therefore, is an entirely subjective process, which may be in every respect independent of external stimuli, although chiming in with every sensation 1 . Even an 'indifferent' sensation possesses a c feeling tone ', namely, that of indifference, which again expresses a certain valua- tion. Hence feeling is also a kind of judging, differing, however, from an intellectual judgment, in that it does not aim at establishing an intellectual connection but is solely concerned with the setting up of a subjective criterion of acceptance or rejection. The valuation by feeling extends to every content of consciousness, of whatever kind it may be. When the intensity of feeling is increased an affect (v. Affect) results, which is a state of feeling accompanied by appreciable bodily innervations. Feeling is distin- guished from affect by the fact that it gives rise to no perceptible physical innervations, i.e. just as much or as little as the ordinary thinking process. Ordinary ' simple ' feeling is concrete (q.v.), i.e. it is mixed up with other function-elements, frequently with sensation for instance. In this particular case we might term it affective, or (as in this book, for instance) feding-sensaUon, by which a well-nigh inseparable blending of feeling with sensation elements is to be understood. This characteristic fusion is universally present where feeling is still an un- differentiated function, hence most evidently in the psyche of a neurotic with a differentiated thinking. Although feeling is an independent function in itself, it may lapse into a state of dependence upon another function, upon thinking, for instance ; whereby a feeling is produced which is merely kept as an accompaniment to i On the distinction between feeling and sensation compare Wundt Grundx. d. pkys. Psychol., i, pp. 350 ff. DEFINITIONS 545 thinking, and is not repressed from consciousness only in so far as it fits in with the intellectual associations. It is important to distinguish abstract feeling from ordinary concrete feeling. For, just as the abstract concept (v. Thinking) does away with the differences of the things embraced in it, so abstract feeling, by being raised above the differences of the individual feeling-values, establishes a ' mood ', or state of feeling, which embraces and therewith abolishes the different individual values. Thus, just as thinking marshals the conscious contents under concepts, feeling arranges them according to their value. The more concrete the feeling, the more subjective and personal the value it confers ; but the more abstract it is, the more general and objective is the value it bestows. Just as a completely abstract concept no longer coincides with the individuality and peculiarity of things, only revealing their universality and indistinctness, so too the completely abstract feeling no longer coincides with the individual instant and its feeling quality but only with the totality of all instants and their indistinctness. Accordingly, feeling like thinking is a rational function, since, as is shown by experience, values in general are bestowed according to the laws of reason, just as concepts in general are framed after the laws of reason. Naturally the essence of feeling is not characterized by the foregoing definitions : they only serve to convey its external manifestations. The conceptual capacity of the intellect proves incapable of formulating the real nature of feeling in abstract terms, since thinking belongs to a category quite incommensurable with feeling. In fact, no basic psychological function whatsoever can be completely expressed by any other one. This circumstance is responsible for the fact that no intellectual definition will ever be able to render the specific character of feeling in any adequate measure. The mere fact that feelings are 54$ DEFINITIONS classified adds nothing to the understanding of their nature, because even the most exact classification will be able to yield only that intellectually seizable content to which or with which feelings appear connected, but without thereby apprehending the specific nature of feeling. Thus, however many varying and intellectually seizable classes of contents there may be, just as many feelings can be differentiated, without ever arriving at an exhaustive classification of feelings themselves; because, beyond every possible class of contents accessible to the intellect, there still exist feelings which are beyond intellectual classification. The very idea of a classification is intellectual and therefore incommensurable with the nature of feeling. Hence, we must content ourselves with our attempts to define the limits of the concept The nature of a feeling-valuation may be compared with intellectual apperception as an apperception of value. An active and a passive feeling-apperception can be dis- tinguished. The passive feeling-act is characterized by the fact that a content excites or attracts the feeling; it compels a feeling-participation on the part of the subject The active feeling-act, on the contrary, confers value from the subject it is a deliberate evaluation of contents in accordance with feeling and not in accordance with intel- lectual intention. Hence active feeling is a directed function, an act of will, as for instance loving as opposed to being in love. This latter state would be undirected, passive feeling, as, indeed, the ordinary colloquial term suggests, since it describes the former as activity and the latter as a condition. Undirected feeling is feeling-intuition. Thus, in the stricter sense, only the active, directed feeling should be termed rational : the passive is definitely irrational, since it establishes values without voluntary participation, occasionally even against the subject's intention. When the total attitude of the individual is orientated DEFINITIONS 547 by the function of feeling, we speak of a feeling-type (v. Type). 21. Feeling-into (Einfiihlung) is an introjectton (q.v.) of the object into the ego. For the fuller description of the concept of feeling-into, see text of Chapter vii (v. also Projection). 22. Function : By psychological function I understand a certain form of psychic activity that remains theoretically the same under varying circumstances. From the energic standpoint a function is a phenomenal form of libido (q.v.) which theoretically remains constant, in much the same way as physical force can be considered as the form or momentary manifestation of physical energy. I distinguish four basic functions in all, two rational and two irrational viz. thinking andfeding, sensation and intuition. 1 can give no a priori reason for selecting just these four as basic functions ; I can only point to the fact that this conception has shaped itself out of many years' experience. I differentiate these functions from one another, because they are neither mutually relatable nor mutually reducible. The principle of thinking, for instance, is absolutely different from the principle of feeling, and so forth. I make a capital distinction between this concept of function and phantasy-activity, or reverie, because, to my mind, phantasying is a peculiar form of activity which can manifest itself in all the four functions. In my view, both will and attention are entirely secondary psychic phenomena. 23. Idea : In this work the concept of idea is sometimes used to designate a certain psychological element intimately connected with what I term image (q.v.). The image may be either personal or impersonal in its origin. In the latter case, it is collective and is distinguished by mythological 548 DEFINITIONS qualities. I then term it primordial image. When, on the contrary, it has no mythological character, i.e. lacks the intuitive qualities and is merely collective, I speak of an idea. Accordingly I employ the term idea as something which expresses the meaning of a primordial image that has been abstracted or detached from the concretism of the image. In so far as the idea is an abstraction, it has the appearance of something derived, or developed, from elementary factors, a product of thinking. This is the sense, as something secondary and derived, in which it is regarded by Wundt 1 and many others. Since, however, the idea is merely the formulated meaning of a primordial image in which it was already symbolically represented, the essence of the idea is not merely derived, or produced, but, considered psychologically, it has an a priori existence as a given possibility of thought-connections in general. Hence, in accordance with its nature (not with its formula- tion), the idea is an a priori existing and determining psychological factor. In this sense Plato sees the idea as a primordial image of things, while Kant defines it as the " archetype of the use of the mind " ; hence it is a transcendent concept which, as such, transcends the limit of experienceable things a . It is a concept demanded by reason, "whose object can never be met with in experi- ence " 8 . Kant says : " For, although we axe bound to say of transcendent reasonal concepts They are only ideas, yet are we in no way justified in regarding them as superfluous and unreaL For, although no object can be determined by them, nevertheless fundamentally and unperceived they can serve the mind as canons for its extended and harmonious use, whereby it discerns no object more acutely than it would according to its own concepts, yet is guided in this i Wundt, Phil. Stud., vii, 13. Critique of Pure Reason : transl. by F. Max Mttller (London Macmillan, 1881). Logic, p. 140. DEFINITIONS 549 discernment in a better and broader approach. Not to mention the fact that they may, perhaps, bring about a transition from natural ideas to practical concepts, even providing moral ideas with a certain associative texture of the speculative findings of reason ".* Schopenhauer says : " By idea I understand every definite and established grade of the objectification of will, in so far as it is a thing-in-itself and, therefore, removed from multiplicity; such grades, moreover, are related to individual things as their eternal forms or proto- types ". With Schopenhauer, however, the idea is plastic in char- acter, because he conceives it wholly in the sense of what I describe as primordial image ; it is, however, indiscernible to the individual, revealing itself only to the "pure Subject of cognition ", which is raised above will and individuality ( 49)- Hegel completely hypostasizes the idea, and gives it the attribute of the only real existence. It is " the con- cept, the reality of the concept and the one-ness of both ". 8 It is " eternal generation ".* Lasswitz regards the idea as a "law indicating the direction, in which our experience should develop". It is the " most certain and supreme reality ". 6 With Cohen, the idea is the " self-consciousness of the concept ", the " foundation " of being 6 . I do not wish to multiply further evidence to establish the primary nature of the idea. These quotations should sufficiently demonstrate that the idea is conceived also as a fundamental, a priori existent factor. It possesses this latter quality from its antecedent, the' primordial, symbolical image (q.v.). Its secondary nature of an abstract i Critique of Pure Reason, p. 285. World as Will and Idea, trausl. by Haldane and Kemp, vol. i, par. 25 (London : Kegan Paul & Co.) * Aesthetik, i, 138. * Logic, iii, pp. 242 ff. * Wirhlichkeit, pp. 152, 154. Logik, pp. 14, 18. 550 DEFINITIONS and derived entity it receives from the rational elaboration to which the primordial image is subjected before it is made suitable for rational usage. Inasmuch as the prim- ordial image is a constant autochthonic psychological factor repeating itself in all times and places, we might also, in a certain sense, say the same of the idea, although, on account of its rational nature, it is much more subject to modification by rational elaboration, which in its turn is strongly influenced by time and circumstance. It is this rational elaboration which gives it formulations correspond- ing with the spirit of the time. A few philosophers, by virtue of its derivation from the primordial image, ascribe a transcendent quality to it; this does not really belong to the idea as I conceive it, but rather to the primordial image, about which a timeless quality clings, established as it is from all time as an integral and inherent constituent of the human mind. Its quality of independence is derived also from the primordial image which was never made and is constantly present, appearing so spontaneously in per- ception that we might also say it strives independently towards its own realization, since it is sensed by the mind as an actively determining power. Such a view, however, is not general, but presumably a question of attitude (v. Chap. vii). The idea is a psychological factor which not only determines thought but, in the form of a practical idea, also conditions feeling. As a general rule, however, I only employ the term idea, either when I am speaking of the determination of thought in a thinking-type, or when denoting the determination of feeling in a feeling- type. On the other hand, it is terminologically correct to speak of determination by the primordial image, when we are dealing with an a priori determination of an undiffer- entiated function. The dual nature of the idea, as something that is at the same time both primary and secondary, is responsible DEFINITIONS 551 for the fact that the expression is occasionally used promiscuously with 'primordial image*. For the intro- verted attitude the idea is the priinum movens ; for the extraverted, it is a product. 24. Identification : This term connotes a psychological process in which the personality is either partially 01 totally dissimilated (v. Assimilation) from itself. Identifica- tion is an estrangement of the subject from himself in favour of an object in which the subject is, to a certain extent, disguised. For example, identification with the father practically signifies an adoption of the ways and manners of the father, as though the son were the same as the father and not a separate individual. Identification is distinguished from imitation by the fact that identifica- tion is an unconscious imitation, whereas imitation is a conscious copying. Imitation is an indispensable expedient for the de- veloping personality of youth. It has a beneficial effect so long as it does not merely serve as a means of accom- modation, thus hindering the development of a suitable individual method. Similarly, identification may be pro- gressive in so far as the individual way is not yet available. But, whenever a better individual possibility presents itself, identification manifests its pathological character by proving henceforth just as great a hindrance as before it was unwittingly supporting and beneficial. For now it has a dissociating influence, dividing the subject into two mutually estranged personalities. Identification is not always related to persons but also to things (for instance, a spiritual movement, or a business, etc.) and to psycho- logical functions. In fact, the Jatter case is particularly important (cf. Chap. ii.). Identification, in such a case, leads to the formation of a secondary character, whereby the individual is so identified with his most developed 532 DEFINITIONS function that he is very largely or even wholly removed from his original character-foundation, so that his real individuality goes into the unconscious. This is nearly always the rule with men who possess one differentiated function. It is, in fact, a necessary transitional stage on the way to individuation. Identification with the parents or nearest members of the family is a normal phenomenon, in so far as it coincides with the a priori or pre-existing famiUal identity. In such a case, it is better not to speak of identification but of identity, a term which corresponds with the actual matter of fact For identification with members of the family is to be distinguished from identity by the fact, that it is not given as an a priori fact, but arises secondarily only through the following process: As the individual is developing out of the original familial identity, his process of adapta- tion and development brings him upon an obstacle which cannot immediately be mastered ; a damming-up of libido, accordingly, takes place and gradually seeks a regressive outlet The regression brings about a revivification of earlier states, among others the state of familial identity. The identification with the members of the family cor- responds with this regressive revival of a state of identity which has actually almost been overcome. Every identi- fication with persons takes place in this way. Identification has always a purpose, namely, to obtain an advantage, push aside an obstacle, or solve a task after the manner of another individual. 25. Identity : I use the term identity in the case of a psychological equality. It is always an unconscious phenomenon, since a conscious equality would necessarily involve the consciousness of two similar things hence im- mediately presupposing a separation of subject and object, whereby the phenomenon of identity would be already DEFINITIONS 553 resolved. Psychological identity presupposes its uncon- sciousness. It is a characteristic of the primitive mentality, and is the actual basis of " participation mystique", which, in reality, is merely a relic of the original psychological non-differentiation of subject and object hence of the primordial unconscious state. It is, therefore, a character- istic of the early infantile mental condition. Finally, it is also a characteristic of the unconscious content in adult civilized man, which, in so far as it has not become a conscious content, remains permanently in the state of identity with objects. From an identity with the parents proceeds the identification (q.v.) with them ; similarly, the possibility of projection and introjection (q.v.) depends upon identity. Identity is primarily an unconscious equality with the object. It is neither an assumption of equality nor an identification, but an a priori equality which has never appeared as an object of consciousness. Upon identity is founded the naive presumption that the psychology of one man is the same as that of another, that the same motive is universally valid, that what is agree- able to me must also be obviously pleasurable for others, and that what is immoral to me must also be immoral for others, and so forth. This state of identity is responsible also for the almost universal desire to correct in others what most demands change in one- self. Upon identity rests the possibility of suggestion and psychic contamination. Identity appears with special distinctness in pathological cases, as for instance in paranoia delusions of ' influencing ' and persecution, where the patient's own subjective contents are presumed, as a matter of course, to proceed from others. But identity means also the possibility of a conscious collectivism and a conscious social attitude, which found their loftiest expression in the Christian ideal of brotherly love. 554 DEFINITIONS 26. Image : When I speak of image in this book, I do not mean the psychic reflection of the external object, but a concept essentially derived from a poetic figure of speech ; namely, the phantasy-image, a presentation which is only indirectly related to the perception of the external object This image depends much more upon unconscious phantasy-activity, and as the product of such activity it appears more or less abruptly in consciousness, somewhat in the nature of a vision or hallucination but without possessing the pathological character of similar products occurring in a morbid clinical picture. The image has the psychological character of a phantasy-presentation, and never the quasi-real character of hallucination, i.e. it never takes the place of reality, and its character of 'inner' image always distinguishes it from sensuous reality. As a rule, it lacks all projection into space, although in exceptional cases it can also appear to a certain extent externalized. Such a mode of appearance must be termed archaic (q.v.) when it is not primarily pathological, though in no way does this do away with its archaic character. Upon the primitive level, i.e. in the mentality of the primitives, the inner image is easily projected into space as a visual or auditory hallucination without being a pathological phenomenon. Although, as a rule, no reality-value belongs to the image, its significance for the psychic life is often thereby enhanced, {.* a greater psychological value clings to it, representing an inner ' reality ' which occasionally far out- weighs the physical importance of < external ' reality. In such a case, the orientation of the individual is concerned less with adaptation to reality than with an adaptation to the inner claims. The inner image is a complex factor, compounded of the most varied material from the most varied sources DEFINITIONS 555 It is no conglomerate, however, but an integral product, with its own autonomous purpose. The image is a con- centrated expression of the total psychic situation, not merely , nor even pre-eminently, of unconscious contents pure and simple. It undoubtedly does express the contents of the unconscious, though not the whole of its contents in general, but merely those momentarily constellated This con- stellation is the product of the specific activity of the unconscious on the one hand, and of the momentary conscious situation on the other: this always stimulates the activity of associated subliminal material at the same time as it also inhibits the irrelevant. Accordingly the image is equally an expression of the unconscious as of the conscious situation of the moment. The interpretation of its meaning, therefore, can proceed exclusively neither from the unconscious nor from the conscious, but only from their reciprocal relation. I term the image primordial 1 when it possesses an archaic character. I speak of its archaic character when the image is in striking unison with familiar mythological motives. In this case it expresses material primarily derived from the collective unconscious (g.v.) 9 while, at the same time, it indicates that the momentary conscious situation is influenced not so much from the side of the personal as from the collective. A personal image has neither archaic character nor collective significance, but expresses contents of the per- sonal unconscious and a personally conditioned, conscious situation. The primordial image (elsewhere also termed the ' archetype ' s ) is always collective, i.e. it is at least common to entire nations or epochs. In all probability * Following an expression used by J. Burckhardt. Cf. also Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious, p. 41. 1 Jung, Instinct and ike Unconscious (Journal of Psychology, vol x, i). 55* DEFINITIONS the most important mythological motives are common to all times and races; I have, in fact, demonstrated a whole series of motives from Grecian mythology in the dreams and phantasies of thoroughbred negroes suffering from mental disorders 1 . The primordial image is a mnemic deposit, an imprint ("engramm" Semon), which has arisen through a con- densation of innumerable, similar processes. It is primarily a precipitate or deposit, and therefore a typical basic form of a certain ever-recurring psychic experience. As a mythological motive, therefore, it is a constantly effective and continually recurring expression which is either awakened, or appropriately formulated, by certain psychic experiences. The primordial image, then, is the psychic expression of an anatomically and physiologically deter- mined disposition. If one supports the view that a definite anatomical structure is the product of environ- mental conditions upon living matter, the primordial image in its constant and universal distribution corresponds with an equally universal and continuous external influence, which must, therefore, have the character of a natural law. In this way, the myth could be related to Nature (as, for instance, the solar myths to the daily rising and setting of the sun, or to the equally obvious seasonal changes). But we should still be left with the question as to why the sun, for instance, with its obvious changes, should not appear frank and unveiled as a content of the myth. The fact that the sun, or the moon, or meteorological processes do, at least, appear allegorized, points, however, to an independent collaboration of the psyche, which in this case can be no mere product or imitation of environ- mental conditions. Then whence this capacity of the psyche to gain a standpoint outside sense-perception? i A remarkable example of an archaic image is quoted in Jung, Psychol. of the Unconscious, p. 108. DEFINITIONS 537 Whence its capacity for achieving something beyond or different from the verdict of the senses ? We are forced to assume, therefore, that the given brain-structure does not owe its particular nature merely to the effect of surrounding conditions, but also and just as much to the peculiar and autonomous quality of living matter, it. to a fundamental law of life. The given constitution of the organism, therefore, is on the one hand a product of outer conditions, while on the other it is inherently determined by the nature of living matter. Accordingly, the primordial image is just as undoubtedly related to certain manifest, ever-renewing and therefore constantly effective Nature- processes as it is to certain inner determinants of the mental life and to life in general. The organism confronts light with a new formation, the eye, and the psyche meets the process of Nature with a symbolical image, which apprehends the Nature-process just as the eye catches the light. And in the same way as the eye bears witness to the peculiar and independent creative activity of living matter, the primordial image expresses the unique and unconditioned creative power of the mind. The primordial image, therefore, is a recapitulatory expression of the living process. It gives a co-ordinating meaning both to the sensuous and to the inner mental perceptions, which at first appear without either order or connection; thereby liberating psychic energy from its bondage to sheer uncomprehended perception. But it also links up the energies, released through the perception of stimuli, to a definite meaning, which serves to guide action along the path which corresponds with this meaning. It loosens unavailable, dammed-up energy, since it always refers the mind to Nature, transforming sheer natural instinct into mental forms. The primordial image is the preliminary stage of the idea (q.v.) its maternal soil. By detaching from it that 55* DEFINITIONS concretism which is peculiar and necessary to the primordial image, the reason develops the concept i.c. the idea which, moreover, is distinguished from every other concept by the fact that it is not only given by experience but is actually inferred as underlying all experience. The idea possesses this quality from the primordial image, which as the expression of a specific cerebral structure also imparts a definite form to every experience. The degree of psychological efficacy belonging to the primordial image is determined by the attitude of the individual. When the general attitude is introverted as a result of the withdrawal of libido from the outer object, a reinforcement of the inner object or idea naturally takes place. This produces a very intensive development of ideas along the line unconsciously traced out by the primordial image. In this way the primordial image indirectly reaches the surface. The further course of intel- .lectual development leads to the idea, which is merely the primordial image at the stage of intellectual formula- tion. Only the development of the counter-function can take the idea further, i.e. when once the idea is appre- hended intellectually, it strives to become effective in life. Hence it attracts feeling, which, however, in such a case is much less differentiated, and therefore more con- cretistic, than thinking. Thus the feeling is impure, and because undifierentiated, is still fused with the unconscious. Hence the individual is unable to reconcile feeling so- constituted with the idea. In such a case, the primordial image, appearing in symbolic form in the inner field of vision, embraces, by virtue of its concrete nature, the feeling existing in an undifierentiated, concrete state; but at the same time, by virtue of its intrinsic significance, it also embraces the idea, of which indeed it is the mother thus reconciling idea with feeling. Hence the DEFINITIONS 559 primordial image appears in the rdle of mediator, once again proving its redeeming efficacy, a power it has always possessed in the various religions. What Schopenhauer says of the idea, therefore, I would prefer to apply to the primordial image, since the idea as I have elsewhere observed under ' Idea 'should not be regarded as some- thing wholly and unconditionally a priori, but also as something derived and developed from antecedents. When, therefore, in the following excerpt I am quoting the words of Schopenhauer, I must ask the reader to replace the word ' idea ' in the text by * primordial image ' : he will then be able to understand my meaning : 1 " The idea is never known by the individual as such, but only by the man who is exalted above all willing and above aU individuality to the pure Subject of knowledge: thus it is attainable only by the genius, or by the man who has achieved mainly through the works of genius an elevation of his pure gift of cognition into a temper akin to genius : it is, therefore, not absolutely, but only conditionally, communicable, since the idea conceived and reproduced in an artistic creation, for instance, only appeals to every man according to his intellectual powers", etc. " The idea is unity split up into multiplicity by virtue of the temporal and spatial form of our intuitive apprehension." "The concept is like an inanimate vehicle, in which the things one deposits lie side by side, but from which no more can be taken out than was put in : the idea, on the contrary, develops within the man who has embraced it conceptions which in relation to its homonymous concept are new : it is like a living, self-developing organism endowed with creative force, bringing forth something that was never put into it." Schopenhauer clearly discerned that the 'idea', , the primordial image according to my definition, cannot be reached in the way that a concept or ' idea ' is established ('idea* according to Kant corresponds with a "concept derived from notions" 2 ), but that there pertains to it an i Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, vol. i, 49. Kant, Critique of Pure Reason. 560 DEFINITIONS element quite foreign to the formulating reason, rather Schopenhauer's "temper akin to genius", which simply means a state of feeling. For one only reaches the primordial image from the idea because of the fact that the way leading to the idea is carried on over the summit of the idea into the counter-function, feeling. The primordial image has advantage over the clarity of the idea in its vitality. It is a self-living organism, "endowed with creative force"; for the primordial image is an inherited organization of psychic energy, a rooted system, which is not only an expression of the energic process but also a possibility for its operation. In a sense, it characterizes the way in which the energic process from earliest time has always run its unvarying course, while at the same time enabling a perpetual repetition of the law-determined course to take place; since it pro- vides just that character of apprehension or psychic grasp of situations which continually yields a further continua- tion of life. It is, therefore, the necessary counterpart of instinct, which is an appropriate form of action also pre- supposing a grasp of the momentary situation that is both purposeful and suitable. This apprehension of the given situation is vouchsafed by the a priori existing image. It represents the practicable formula without which the apprehension of a new state of affairs would be impossible. 27. Individual ('unique-being'): The psychological individual is characterized by its peculiar, and in certain respects, unique psychology. The peculiar character of the individual psyche appears less in its elements than in its complex formations. The psychological individual, or individuality, has an a priori unconscious existence, but it exists consciously only in so far as a consciousness of its peculiar nature DEFINITIONS 5 6i is present, i.e. in so far as there exists a conscious distinct- iveness from other individuals. The psychic individuality is also given a priori as a correlate of the physical individuality, although, as ob- served, it is at first unconscious. A conscious process of differentiation (q.v.) is required to bring the individuality to consciousness, i.e. to raise it out of the state of identity with the object. The identity of the individuality with the object is synonymous with its unconsciousness. There is no psychological individual present if the individuality is unconscious, but merely a collective psychology of con- sciousness. In such a case, the unconscious individuality appears identical with the object, i.e. projected upon the object. The object, in consequence, possesses too great a value and is too powerful a determinant 28. Individuality : By individuality I understand the peculiarity and singularity of the individual in every psychological respect. Everything is individual that is not collective, everything in fact that pertains only to one and not to a larger group of individuals. Individuality can hardly be described as belonging to the psychological elements, but rather to their peculiar and unique grouping and combination (v. Individual.) 29. Individuation : The concept of individuation plays no small r61e in our psychology. In general, it is the process of forming and specializing the individual nature ; in particular, it is the development of the psychological individual as a differentiated being from the general, collective psychology. Individuation, therefore, is a process of differentiation, having for its goal the development of the individual personality. Individuation is, to this extent, a natural necessity, inasmuch as its hindrance, by an extensive or actually 562 DEFINITIONS exclusive levelling to collective standards, involves a definite injury to individual vital activity. But individuality, both physically and physiologically, is already given ; hence it also expresses itself psychologically. An essential check to the individuality, therefore, involves an artificial mutilation. It is at once clear that a social group consisting of deformed individuals cannot for long be a healthy and prosperous institution ; since only that society which can preserve its internal union and its collective values, while at the same time granting the greatest possible freedom to the individual, has any prospect of enduring vitality. Since the individual is not only a single, separate being but, by his very existence, also presupposes a collective relationship, the process of individuation must clearly lead to a more intensive and universal collective solidarity, and not to mere isolation. The psychological process of individuation is clearly bound up with the so-called transcendent function (q.v.)> since it alone can provide that individual line of development which would be quite unattainable upon the ways dictated by the collective norm (v. Symbol). Under no circumstances can individuation be the unique goal of psychological education. Before individuation can be taken for a goal, the educational aim of adaptation to the necessary minimum of collective standards must first be attained. A plant which is to be brought to the fullest possible unfolding of its particular character must first of all be able to grow in the soil wherein it is planted. Individuation always finds itself more or less in opposition to the collective norm, since it means a separa- tion and differentiation from the general, and a building up of the particular ; not, however, a particularity especially sought, but one with an a priori foundation in the psyche. The opposition to the collective norm, however, is only apparent, since on closer examination the individual stand- DEFINITIONS 563 point is found to be differently orientated, but not antagonistic to the collective norm. The individual way can never be actually opposed to the collective norm, because the opposite to the latter could only be a contrary norm. But the individual way is never a norm. A norm arises out of the totality of individual ways, and can have a right^to existence, and a beneficial effect, only when individual ways, which from time to time have a need to orientate to a norm, are already in existence. A norm serves no purpose when it possesses absolute validity. An actual conflict with the collective norm takes place only when an individual way is raised to a norm, which, more- over, is the fundamental aim of extreme individualism. Such a purpose is, of course, pathological and entirely opposed to life. It has, accordingly, nothing to do with individuation, which, though certainly concerned with the individual by-path, precisely on that account also needs the norm for its orientation towards society, and for the vitally necessary solidarity of the individual with society. Hence individuation leads to a natural appreciation of the collective norm, whereas to an exclusively collective orientation of life the norm becomes increasingly super- fluous : whereupon real morality goes to pieces. The more completely a man's life is moulded and shaped by the collective norm, the greater is his individual immorality. Individuation is practically the same as the develop- ment of consciousness out of the original state of identity (v. Identity). Hence it signifies an extension of the sphere of consciousness, an enriching of the conscious psycho- logical life. 30. Inferior Function: This term is used to denote the function that remains in arrear in the process of differentiation. For experience shows that it is hardly possible owing to the inclemency of general conditions 564 DEFINITIONS for anyone to bring all his psychological functions to simultaneous development. The very conditions of society enforce a man to apply himself first and foremost to the differentiation of that function with which he is either most gifted by Nature, or which provides his most effective means for social success. Very frequently, indeed as a general rule, a man identifies himself more or less com- pletely with the most favoured, hence the most developed, function. It is this circumstance which gives rise to psychological types. But, as a consequence of such a one-sided process of development, one or more functions necessarily remain backward in development. Such functions, therefore, may be fittingly termed 'inferior* in the psychological, though not in the psycho-pathological, sense, since these retarded functions are in no way morbid but merely backward as compared with the more favoured function. As a rule, therefore, the inferior function normally remains conscious, although in neurosis it lapses either partially or principally into the unconscious. For, inasmuch as too great a share of the libido is intercepted by the favoured function, the inferior function undergoes a re- gressive development, i.e. it returns to its earlier archaic state, therewith becoming incompatible with the conscious and favoured function. When a function that should normally be conscious relapses into the unconscious, the specific energy adhering to this function is also delivered over to the unconscious. A natural function, such as feeling, possesses its own inherent energy : it is a definitely organized living system, which, under no circumstances, can be wholly robbed of its energy. Through the unconscious condition of the inferior function, its energy-remainder is transferred into the un- conscious ; whereupon the unconscious becomes unnaturally activated. The result of such activity is a production of phantasy at a level corresponding with the archaic, sub< DEFINITIONS 565 merged condition, to which the inferior function has now sunk. Hence an analytical release of such a function from the unconscious can take place only by retrieving those same unconscious phantasy-images which have come to life through the activation of the unconscious function. The process of making such phantasies conscious also brings the inferior function to consciousness, thus providing it with a new possibility of development. 31. Instinct : When I speak of instinct, whether in this work or elsewhere, I therewith denote what is commonly understood by this word : namely, an impulsion towards certain activities. The impulsion can proceed from an outer or an inner stimulus, which releases the instinctive mechanism either psychically, or through organic roots which lie outside the sphere of psychic causality. Every psychic phenomenon is instinctive which proceeds from no cause postulated by the will, but from dynamic impulsion, irrespective of whether such impulsion has its origin directly in organic, therefore extra-psychic, sources, or is essentially conditioned by the energies whose actual release is effected by the purpose of the will with the qualification, in the latter case, that the resulting product exceeds the effect intended by the will. According to my 'view, all those psychic processes over whose energies the conscious has no disposal come within the concept of instinct 1 . Thus, according to this view, affects (q.v.) belong to the instinctive processes just as much as to the processes of feeling (v. Feeling). Psychic processes which, under ordinary circum- stances, are functions of the will (thus entirely subject to conscious control), can, in abnormal cases, become instinctive processes through a linking up with unconscious energy. This phenomenon always occurs whenever the conscious * Cf. Jung, Instinct and the Unconscious (Journal of Psychology, vol. x, i) 566 DEFINITIONS sphere is restricted either by repressions of incompatible contents or where, as a result of fatigue, intoxication, or pathological cerebral processes in general, an " abaissement du niveau mentale " (Janet) takes place where, in a word, the conscious either does not yet control or no longer commands the most strongly toned processes. Those processes, which were once conscious in an individual but which have gradually become automatized, I might term automatic instead of instinctive processes. Normally, they do not even behave as instincts, since under normal circumstances they never appear as im- pulsions. They do that only when they receive a tributary of energy which is foreign to them. 32. Intellect : I call directed thinking (q.v.), intellect* 33. Introjection : This term' was introduced by Avenarius 1 to correspond with projection. The frans- veying therewith intended, of a subjective content into an object is, however, just as well expressed by the concept of projection. It would, therefore, be as well to retain the term 'projection' for this process. Ferenczi' has now defined the concept of introjection as the opposite of 'projection 1 , namely, as an 'indrawing' of the object within the subjective circle of interest, while * projection * means a translation of subjective contents into the object 2 . " Whereas the paranoic expels from his ego emotions which have become disagreeable, the neurotic helps himself to as large a portion of the outer world as his ego can ingest, and makes this an object of unconscious phantasies." The former mechanism is projection, the latter introjection. Introjection is a sort of " diluting process ", an " expansion of the circle of interest ". According to Ferenczi, introjection i Menschl. WeUbegr., pp. 25 ff. * Ferenczi, Introjection and Transference (Contributions to Psych* Analysis : transl. by E. Jones. Boston : R. Badger). DEFINITIONS 567 is also a normal process. Psychologically, therefore, it is a process of assimilation (#..), while projection is a process of dissimilation. Introjection signifies an adjustment of the object to the subject, while projection involves a discrimination of the object from the subject, by means of a subjective content transveyed into the object. Introjection is an extraverting process, since for this adjustment to the object a feeling-into ', or possession of, the object is necessary. A passive and an active introjection may be discrimin- ated: to the former belong the transference-processes in the treatment of the neuroses and, in general, all cases in which the object exercises an unconditional attraction upon the subject ; while * feeling-into l , regarded as a process of adaptation, should belong to the latter form. 34. Introversion means a turning inwards of the libido (q.v.), whereby a negative relation of subject to object is expressed. Interest does not move towards the object, but recedes towards the subject. Everyone whose attitude is introverted thinks, feels, and acts in a way that clearly demonstrates that the subject is the chief factor of motivation while the object at most receives only a secondary value. Introversion may possess either a more intellectual or more emotional character, just as it can be characterized by either intuition or sensation. Introversion is active, when the subject wills a certain seclusion in face of the object ; it is passive when the subject is unable to restore again to the object the libido which is streaming back from it. When introversion is habitual, one speaks of an introverted type (v. Type). 35. Intuition (from intueri = to look into or upon) is, according to my view, a basic psychological function (v. Function). It is that psychological function which 568 DEFINITIONS transmits perceptions in an unconscious way. Everything, whether outer or inner objects or their associations, can be the object of this perception. Intuition has this peculiar quality : it is neither sensation, nor feeling, nor intellectual conclusion, although it may appear in any of these forms. Through intuition any one content is presented as a complete whole, without our being able to explain or discover in what way this content has been arrived at. Intuition is a kind of instinctive apprehension, irrespective of the nature of its contents. Like sensation (q.v.) it is an irrational (q.v.) perceptive function. Its contents, like those oi sensation, have the character of being given, in contrast to the 'derived* or 'deduced* character of feeling and thinking contents. Intuitive cognition, therefore, possesses an intrinsic character of certainty and conviction which enabled Spinoza to uphold the 'scientia intuitiva' as the highest form of cognition. 1 Intuition has this quality in common with sensation, whose physical foundation is the ground and origin of its certitude. In the same way, the certainty of intuition depends upon a definite psychic matter of fact, of whose origin and state of readiness, however, the subject was quite unconscious. Intuition appears either in a subjective or an objective form: the former is a perception of unconscious psychic facts whose origin is essentially subjective; the latter is a perception of facts which depend upon subliminal perceptions of the object and upon the thoughts and feelings occasioned thereby. Concrete and abstract forms of intuition may be dis- tinguished according to the degree of participation on the part of sensation. Concrete intuition carries perceptions which are concerned with the actuality of things, while abstract intuition transmits the perceptions of ideational Associations. Concrete intuition is a reactive process, si&ce V Similarly Bergsoa, DEFINITIONS 569 it follows directly from the given circumstances ; whereas abstract intuition, like abstract sensation, necessitates a certain element of direction, an act of will or a purpose. In common with sensation, intuition is a characteristic of infantile and primitive psychology. As against the strength and sudden appearance of sense-impression it transmits the perception of mythological images, the precursors of ideas (#.v.). Intuition maintains a compensatory function to sensa- tion, and, like sensation, it is the maternal soil from which thinking and feeling are developed in the form of rational functions. Intuition is an irrational function, notwith- standing the fact that many intuitions may subsequently be split up into their component elements, whereby their origin and appearance can also be made to harmonize with the laws of reason. Everyone whose general attitude is orientated by the principle of intuition, i.e. perception by way of the unconscious, belongs to the intuitive type 1 (v. Type), According to the manner in which intuition is employed, whether directed within in the service of cognition and inner perception or without in the service of action and accomplishment, the introverted and extraverted intuitive types can be differentiated. In abnormal cases a well-marked coalescence with, and an equally great determination by, the contents of the collective unconscious declares itself: this may give the intuitive type an extremely irrational and unintel- ligible appearance. 36. Irrational: As I make use of this term it does not denote something contrary to reason, but something outside the province of reason, whose essence, therefore, is not established by reason. i The merit of having discovered the existence of this type is diw to Miss M. Moltzer. T* 570 DEFINITIONS Elementary facts belong to this category, eg. that the earth has a moon, that chlorine is an element, that the greatest density of water is found to be 4.0 centigrade. An accident is also irrational in spite of the fact that it may sustain a subsequent rational explanation. The irrational is a factor of existence which may certainly be pushed back indefinitely by an increasingly elaborate and complicated rational explanation, but in so doing the explanation finally becomes so extravagant and overdone that it passes comprehension, thus reaching the limits of rational thought long before it can ever span the whole world with the laws of reason. A completely rational explanation of an actually existing object (not one that is merely postulated) is a Utopian ideal. Only an object that has been postulated can also be completely explained on rational grounds, since it has never contained anything beyond what was postulated by rational thinking. Empirical science also postulates rationally limited objects, since its deliberate exclusion of the accidental allows no consideration of the real object as a whole ; hence empirical observation is always limited to that same portion of the object which has been selected for rational consideration. Thus, both thinking and feeling as directed functions are rational. When these functions are concerned not with a rationally determined choice of objects, or with the qualities and relations of objects, but with the incidental perceptions which the real object never lacks, they at once lose the quality of direction, and therewith something of their rational character, because they accept the accidental. They begin to be irrational. That thinking or feeling which is directed according to accidental perceptions, and is therefore irrational, is either intuitive or sensational. Both intuition and sensation are psychological functions which achieve their functional fulfilment in the absolute perception of occurrences in general. Hence, in accordance DEFINITIONS 571 with their nature, their attitude must be set towards every possibility and what is absolutely accidental ; they must, therefore, entirely forgo rational direction. Accordingly I term them irrational functions, in contrast to thinking and feeling, which reach perfection only when in complete accord with the laws of reason. Although the irrational, as such, can never become the object of a science, nevertheless for a practical psychology it is of the greatest importance that the irrational factor should be correctly appraised. For practical psychology stirs up many problems that altogether elude the rational solution and can be settled only irrationally, i.e. they can be solved only in a way that has no correspondence with the laws of reason. An exclusive presumption or ex- pectation that for every conflict there must also exist a possibility of rational adjustment may well prove an in- surmountable obstacle to a real solution of an irrational character, (v. Rational). 37. Libido: In my view, this concept is synonymous with psychic energy 1 . Psychic energy is the intensity of the psychic process its psychological value. By this I do not mean to imply any imparted value, whether moral, aesthetic, or intellectual ; the psychological value is simply conditioned by its determining power, which is manifested in definite psychic operations ('effects 1 ). Neither do I understand libido as a psychic force, a misunderstanding that has led many critics astray. I do not hypostasize the concept of energy, but employ it as a concept denoting intensity or value. The question as to whether or no a specific psychic force exists has nothing to do with the concept of libido. Frequently I employ the expression libido promiscuously * Jung, The Psychology of the Unconscious, p. 127. Idem, The Conception and the Genetic Theory of Libido, Pt. ii, ch. 2, p. 139. 57* DEFINITIONS with 'energy'. My justification for calling psychic energy libido has been fully gone into in the works referred to in the footnote. 38. The Objective Plane: When I speak of inter- pretation upon the objective plane, I am referring to that view of a dream or phantasy by which the persons or conditions appearing therein -are referred to objectively real persons or conditions ; whereas I speak of the sub- jective plane (q.v.) when the persons and conditions appear- ing in a dream are referred exclusively to subjective elements. The Freudian view of the dream moves almost exclusively upon the objective level, inasmuch as dream- wishes are interpreted as referring to real objects, or are related to sexual processes which fall within the physio- logical, and therefore extra-psychological, sphere. 39. Orientation: This term is used to denote the general principle of an attitude (q.v.). Every attitude is orientated by a certain point-of-view, no matter whether that point-of-view be conscious or unconscious. A so- called power-attitude is orientated by the view-point of ego-power exerted against oppressive influences and con- ditions. A thinking attitude is orientated by the principle of logic as its supreme law ; a sensational attitude by the sensuous perception of given facts. 40. "Participation Mystique": This term originates with L6vy-Bruhl x . It connotes a peculiar kind of psycho- logical connection with the object wherein the subject is unatole to differentiate himself clearly from the object to which he is bound by an immediate relation that can only be described as partial identity. This identity is based upon an a priori one-ness of subject and object "Partici- i L6vy-Bnihl, Les fonctions mentales dans Its socUtts infri*ur*s (Paris, 1912). DEFINITIONS 573 pation mystique ", therefore, is a vestigial remainder of this primordial condition. It does not apply to the whole subject-object relation, but only to certain cases in which the phenomenon of this peculiar relatedness appears. It is, of course, a phenomenon that is best observed among the primitives; but it occurs not at all infrequently among civilized men, although not with the same range or intensity. Among civilized peoples it usually happens between persons and only seldom between a person and thing. In the former case it is a so-called state of trans- ference, in which the object (as a general rule) obtains a sort of magical, i.e. unconditional, influence over the subject In the latter case it is a question of a similar influence on the part of a thing, or else a kind of identification with a thing or the idea of a thing. 41. Phantasy : By phantasy I understand two different things, namely, (i) phantasm and (2) Imaginative activity. In my writings the context always shows which of these meanings is intended. When the term is used to denote phantasm^ it represents a complex that is distinguished from other complexes by the fact that it corresponds with no actual external state of affairs. Although a phantasm may originally be based upon the memory-images of actual experiences, its content corresponds with no external reality; it is merely the output of the creative psychic activity, a manifestation or product of the combination of psychic elements. In so far as psychic energy can be submitted to voluntary direction, phantasy may also be consciously and deliberately produced, as a whole or at least in part. In the former case, it is merely a combination of conscious elements. But such a case is only an artificial experi- ment of purely theoretical importance. In actual every- day psychological experience, phantasy is either released by an expectant, intuitive attitude, or appears as an 574 DEFINITIONS involuntary irruption of unconscious contents into con- sciousness. We must differentiate between active and passive phantasy. Active phantasies are called forth by intuition, i.e. by an attitude directed to the perception of unconscious contents in which the libido immediately invests all the elements emerging from the unconscious, and, by means of association with parallel material, brings them to definition and plastic form. Passive phantasies without any antecedent or accompanying intuitive attitude appear from the outset in plastic form in the presence of a wholly passive attitude on the part of the cognizing subject Such phantasies belong to the category of psychic " automatismes " (Janet). Naturally these latter can occur only as the result of a relative dissociation of the psyche, since their occurrence presupposes the withdrawal of an essential sum of energy from conscious control with a corresponding activation of unconscious material. Thus the vision of Saul presupposes an unconscious acceptance of Christianity, though the fact had escaped his conscious insight It is probable that passive phantasy always springs from an unconscious process antithetically related to conscious- ness, but one which assembles approximately the same amount of energy as the conscious attitude, whence also its capacity for breaking through the latter's resistance. Active phantasy, on the contrary, owes its existence not merely to a onesided, intensive, and antithetic uncon- scious process, but just as much to the propensity of the conscious attitude for taking up the indications or fragments of relatively lightly-toned unconscious associations, and developing them into complete plasticity by association with parallel elements. In the case of active phantasy, then, it is not necessarily a question x>f a dissociated psychic state, but rather of a positive participation of consciousness. DEFINITIONS 575 Whereas the passive form of phantasy not infrequently bears the stamp of morbidity or at least some trace of abnormality, active phantasy belongs to the highest form of psychic activity. For here, in a converging stream, flow the conscious and unconscious personality of the subject into a common and reconciling product A phantasy thus framed may be the supreme expression of the unity of an individual; it may even create the individual by the consummate expression of its unity. (Cf. Schiller's concept of the "aesthetic disposition"). As a general rule, passive phantasy is never the expression of an individuality that has achieved unity, since, as already observed, it presupposes a considerable degree of dissociation, which in its turn can result only from an equally strong opposition between the conscious and the unconscious. Hence the phantasy that breaks through into consciousness as the result of such a state, can never be the perfected expression of a united individuality, but only the prevailing standpoint of the unconscious person- ality. The life of St Paul is a good example of this : his conversion to the Christian faith corresponded with an acceptance of the hitherto unconscious standpoint and a repression of his previous anti-Christian point of view which latter soon became noticeable in his hysterical fits. Hence, passive phantasy must always require a conscious criticism, if it is not to substantiate the one-sided stand- point of the unconscious antithesis. Whereas active phantasy, as the product, on the one hand of a conscious attitude which is not opposed to the unconscious, and, on the other, of unconscious processes which do not maintain an antithetic so much as a compensatory relation to consciousness, does not require this criticism, but merely understanding. As with the dream (which is merely passive phantasy) a manifest and a latent meaning must be distinguished also 576 DEFINITIONS in phantasy. The former results from the immediate perception of the phantasy-image, and the immediate statement of the complex represented by the phantasy. Frequently, however, the manifest meaning hardly deserves the name, although it is always far more developed in phantasy than in the dream ; probably this arises from the fact that the dream-phantasy usually requires no particular energy wherewith to make an effective opposition to the feeble resistance of the sleeping consciousness ; whence it also follows that few antagonistic and only rather slight compensatory tendencies can obtain representation. Waking phantasy, on the other hand, must command a considerable sum of energy in order to overcome the inhibition proceeding from the conscious attitude. Hence, for this to take place, the unconscious antithesis must already be very important before its entrance into consciousness can become possible. If it consisted only in vague and hardly seizable indications, it would nevei be able so to divert conscious attention (conscious libido) upon itself as effectually to interrupt the associated con- tinuity of consciousness. Hence the unconscious content is dependent upon a very strong inner connection, which reveals itself in a manifest meaning. The manifest meaning always has the character of a plastic and concrete process, which, on account of its objective unreality, can never satisfy the conscious demand for understanding. Hence another signification, in other words, an interpretation, or latent meaning, has to be sought. Although the existence of a latent meaning of phantasy is by no means certain, and although nothing stands in the way of an eventual challenge of the whole possibility of a latent meaning, yet the demand for a satisfying understanding is motive enough for a thorough-going investigation. This- investigation of the latent meaning may be purely causal, inquiring into the psychological causes of the existence of the phantasy, DEFINITIONS 577 Such an interrogation leads, on the one hand, to the more remote causes of the phantasy in the distant past, and. on the other, to the substantiation of the instinctive forces which, from the energic standpoint, must be made account- able for the existence of the phantasy. As is well known, Freud has made a specially intensive elaboration of this method. It is this method of interpretation to which I have applied the term reductive. The justification of a reductive view is immediately visible ; it is also thoroughly intelligible that this method of interpreting psychological realities contains something which for a certain tempera- ment is sufficiently satisfying to obviate any further claims for deeper understanding. If a man has uttered a cry for help, such a fact is adequately and satisfactorily explained when it is shown that the man in question was in instant danger of life. If a man dreams of a lavishly-spread table, and it is shown that he went to bed hungry, a satisfactory explanation of his dream is provided. Or supposing a man who has repressed his sexuality, in the manner of a medieval saint, has sexual phantasies, this fact is sufficiently explained by a reduction to his repressed sexuality. If, however, we were to explain the vision of St Peter by dwelling upon the fact that he, " being an-hungered ", had received an invitation from the unconscious to eat animals that were " unclean", or that the eating of the unclean beasts merely signified the fulfilment of a forbidden desire with such an explanation we would still go empty away. Neither would our demand find any fuller satis- faction if, for instance, we were to trace the vision of Saul to his repressed envy of the r61e played by Christ among his fellow-countrymen which brought about his identifica- tion with Christ. Both explanations may contain some glimmering of truth, yet they stand in no sort of relation to the real psychology of the two apostles, conditioned as this was by the history and atmosphere of that time. 578 DEFINITIONS Such an explanation is both too simple arid too cheap. We cannot discuss the history of the world as though it were a problem of physiology or a mere personal 'chronique scandaleuse '. That would be altogether too limited a standpoint. Hence we are compelled very con- siderably to extend our conception of the latent meaning of phantasy. First of all in its causal aspect, for the psychology of the individual can never be exhaustively explained from himself: a clear recognition is also needed of the way in which his individual psychology is con- ditioned by contemporary history and circumstances. It is not merely a physiological, biological, or personal problem, but also a question of contemporary history. In fine, no psychological fact can ever be exhaustively explained from its causality alone, since, as a living phenomenon, it is always indissolubly bound up with the continuity of the vital process, so that on the one side it is always something that is, and on the other it is also becoming, and therefore always creative. The psycho- logical moment is Janus-faced it looks both backwards and forwards. Because it is becoming, it also prepares for the future event. Were this not so, intentions, aims, the setting-up of goals, the forecasting or divining of the future would be psychological impossibilities. If, when a man expresses an opinion, we merely relate this circum- stance to the fact that at some previous time someone else has also expressed a view, such an explanation is, practically, quite inadequate; for its real understanding, not merely do we wish to know the cause of his action but also what he intends by it, what are his aims and purposes, what does he hope to achieve by it. And usually, when we also know that, we are willing to rest satisfied. In everyday life, we immediately and quite instinctively insert a purposive standpoint into the ex- planation; indeed, very often we appraise the purposive DEFINITIONS 579 point-of-view as the decisive one, completely overlooking the strictly causal motive; clearly, in instinctive recogni- tion of the essentially creative factor of the psyche. If we so act in everyday experience, a scientific psych- ology must also take this circumstance into account, and not rely exclusively upon the strictly causal stand- point originally taken over from natural science ; for it also has to consider the purposive nature of the psychic product. When we find everyday experience establishing the purposive orientation of the conscious content beyond any sort of doubt, we have absolutely no grounds to assume, in the absence of experience to the contrary, that this may not also be the case with the content of the unconscious. My experience gives me no reason at all to dispute the purposive orientation of unconscious contents ; on the contrary, the cases in which a satisfactory in- terpretation could alone be attained through the intro- duction of the purposive standpoint are in the majority. Suppose, for example, we were again to consider the vision of Saul, but this time from the angle of the Pauline world mission, and were now to reach the conclusion that Saul, though a conscious persecutor of Christians, had unconsciously adopted the Christian standpoint, that he was finally brought to avow it by the increasing pre- dominance and final irruption of the unconscious stand- point, and that his unconscious personality was constantly striving towards this goal in an instinctive apprehension of the necessity and importance of such an act. To me this seems a more adequate explanation of the real significance of the event than a reductive interpretation to personal motives, albeit these latter doubtless co- operated in one form or another, since the * all-too-human ' is never lacking. Similarly, the indication given in the Acts of the Apostles of a purposive interpretation of the 580 DEFINITIONS vision of St Peter is far more satisfying than a merely physiological and personal conjecture. To sum up, we may say that phantasy needs to be understood both causally as well as purposively. With the causal explanation it appears as a symptom of a physiological or personal condition, the resultant of previous occurrences; whereas, in the purposive interpretation, phantasy appears as a symbol, which seeks with the help of existing material a clear and definite goal ; it strives, as it were, to distinguish or lay hold of a certain line for the future psychological development. Active phantasy being the principal attribute of the artistic mentality, the artist is not merely a represmter : he is also a creator, hence essentially an educator, since his works have the value of symbols that trace out the line of future develop- ment. Whether the actual social validity of the symbol is more general or more restricted depends upon the quality or vital capacity of the creative individuality. The more abnormal the individual, i.e. the less his general fitness for life, the more limited will be the common social value of the symbols he produces, although their value may be absolute for the individuality in question. One has no right to dispute the existence of the latent meaning of phantasy, unless we also cling to the view that the general Nature-process contains no satisfying meaning. But natural science has developed the meaning of the Nature- process into the form of natural laws. These, admittedly, are human hypotheses advanced in explanation of the Nature-process. But, only in so far as we have ascertained that the proposed law actually coincides with the objective process, are we justified in speaking of a meaning of the natural occurrence. Just so far, therefore, as we have succeeded in demonstrating a law-abiding principle in phantasy, are we also justified in speaking of a meaning DEFINITIONS 581 of the same. But the disclosed meaning is satisfying, or in other words the demonstrated regularity deserves the name, only when it adequately renders the nature of phantasy. There is a law-abiding regularity in the Nature-process, and also a regularity of the Nature-process. It is certainly law-determined and regular that one dreams when one sleeps; but there is no sort of law-determined' principle that affirms anything about the nature of the dream. Its nature is a mere condition of the dream. The demonstra- tion of a physiological source of the phantasy is a mere condition of its existence, not a law of its nature. The law of phantasy as a psychological phenomenon can only be a psychological law. We now come to the second point of our explanation . of the concept of phantasy, viz. imaginative activity. Imagination is the reproductive, or creative, activity of the mind generally, though not a special faculty, since it may come into play in all the basic forms of psychic activity, whether thinking, feeling, sensation, or intuition. Phantasy as imaginative activity is, in my view, simply the direct expression of psychic vital activity: it is energy merely appearing in consciousness in the form of images or contents, just as physical energy also reveals itself as a definite physical state wherein sense organs are stimulated in physical ways. For as every physical state from the energic standpoint is merely a dynamic system, so, too, a psychic content regarded energically is merely a dynamic system appearing in consciousness. Hence from this standpoint one may affirm that phantasy in the form of phantasm is merely a definite sum of libido which cannot appear in consciousness in any other way than in the form of an image. Phantasm is an ' ide-force '. Phantasy as imaginative activity is identical with the course ot the energic psychic process. 58* DEFINITIONS 42. Power-complex: I occasionally use this term as denoting the total complex of all those ideas and strivings whose tendency it is to range the ego above other in- fluences, thus subordinating all such influences to the ego, quite irrespective of whether they have their source in men and objective conditions, or spring from one's own sub- jective impulses, feelings, and thoughts. 43. Projection signifies the transveying of a subjective process into an object. It is the opposite of introjection (j.v.). Accordingly, projection is a process of dissimilation wherein a subjective content is estranged from the subject and, in a sense, incorporated in the object. There are painful, incompatible contents of which the subject un- burdens himself by projection, just as there are also positive values which for some reason are uncongenial to the subject; as, for instance, the consequences of self- depreciation. Projection is based upon the archaic identity (q.v.) of subject and object, but the term is used only when the necessity has already arisen for resolving the identity with the object. This necessity arises when the identity is disturbing, i.e. when, through the absence of the projected content, the process of adaptation is materially prejudiced, so that the restoration of the pro- jected content becomes desirable to the subject From this moment the hitherto partial identity maintains the character of projection. This expression, therefore, denotes a state of identity which has become noticeable, and, there- fore, the object of criticism, whether it be the self-criticism of the subject or the objective criticism of another. We may discriminate between passive and active pro- jection. The former is the customary form of every patho- logical and many normal projections; it springs from no purpose and is a purely automatic occurrence. The latter form is an essential constituent of the act of ' feeling-into ' DEFINITIONS 583 Feeling-into (q.v.), as a whole, is a process of introjection, since it serves to bring the object into an intimate relation with the subject. In order to establish this relation, the subject detaches a content (a feeling, for instance) from himself; he then transveys it into, therewith animating, the object, which he thus relates to the subjective sphere. The active form of projection, however, is also an act of judgment which aims at a separation of subject and object. In this case a subjective judgment is detached from the subject as a valid statement of the case, and is transveyed into the object; by so doing the subject dis- tinguishes himself from the object Accordingly, pro- jection is a process of introversion, since, in contrast to introjection, it leads not to a linking-up and assimilation but to a differentiation and separation of subject from object Hence it plays a leading part in paranoia, which usually ends in a total isolation of the subject. 44. Rational: The rational is the reasonable, that which accords with reason. I conceive reason as an attitude whose principle is to shape thought, feeling, and action in accordance with objective values. Objective values are established by the average experience of external facts on the one hand, and of inner psychological facts on the other. Such experiences, however, could represent no objective 'value', if 'valued' as such by the subject ; for this woulcl already amount to an act' of reason. But the reasoning attitude, which permits us to declare as valid objective values in general, is not the work of the individual subject, but the product of human history. Most objective values and reason itself among them are firmly established complexes handed down to us through the ages, to the organization of which countless generations have laboured with the same necessity with which the nature of the living organism, in general, reacts 584 DEFINITIONS to the average and constantly recurring conditions of the environment, confronting them with corresponding function- complexes as, for instance, the eye, which so perfectly corresponds with the nature of light. We might, therefore, speak of a pre-existing, metaphysical world-reason, if, as Schopenhauer has already pointed out, the reaction of the living organism that corresponds with average external influence were not the indispensable condition of its existence. Human reason, therefore, is merely the ex- pression of human adaptability to the average occurrence which has gradually become deposited in solidly organized complexes, constituting our objective values. Thus the laws of reason are those laws which rule and designate the average ' correct ' or adapted attitude. Everything is rational which harmonizes with these laws, and everything irrational (y.v.) which contravenes them. Thinking and feeling are rational functions in so far as they are decisively influenced by the motive of reflection. They attain their fullest significance when in fullest possible accord with the laws of reason. The irrational functions, on the contrary, are such as aim at pure perception, e.g. intuition and sensation ; because, as far as possible, they are forced to dispense with the rational (which pre-supposes the exclusion of everything that is outside reason) in order to be able to reach . the most complete perception of the whole course of events. 45. Reductive (' leading back ') : I employ this expres- sion to denote- that method of psychological interpretation which regards the unconscious product not from the symbolic point of view, but merely as a semiotic expression, a sort of sign or symptom of an underlying process. Accordingly, the reductive method treats the unconscious product in the sense of a leading-back to the elements and basic processes, irrespective of whether such products DEFINITIONS 585 arc reminiscences of actual events, or whether they arise from elementary processes affecting the psyche. Hence, the reductive method is orientated backwards (in contrast to the constructive method ; q.v.), whether in the historical sense or in the merely figurative sense of a tracing back of complex and differentiated factors to the general and elementary. The methods both of Freud and of Adler are reductive, since in both cases there is a reduction to elementary processes either of wishing or striving, which in the last resort are infantile or primitive. Hence the unconscious product necessarily acquires the value of a merely figurative or unreal expression, for which the term ' symbol ' (q.v.) is really not applicable. The effect of reduction as regards the real significance of the unconscious product is disintegrating, since it is either traced back to its historical antecedents, and so robbed of its intrinsic significance, or it is once again reintegrated into the same elementary process from which it arose. 46. Self : v. Ego. 47. Sensation: According to my conception, this is one of the basic psychological functions (v. Function). Wundt also reckons sensation among the elementary psychic phenomena 1 . Sensation, or sensing, is that psychological function which transmits a physical stimulus to perception. It is, therefore, identical with perception. Sensation must be strictly distinguished from feeling, since the latter is an entirely different process, although it may, for instance, be associated with sensation as * feeling-tone '. Sensation i For the history of the concept of sensation compare : Wundt, Grundx> for physiologischtn Psychologic, i, pp. 350 ff. Dessoir, Gcschichtc for ncucrn dcutschcn Psychologic. Villa, Einlcitung in die Psychologic for Gcgcnwart, y. fiajrtm&nn, Die mofcrnt Psychologic, 586 DEFINITIONS is related not only to the outer stimuli, but also to the inner, i.e. to changes in the internal organs. Primarily, therefore, sensation is sense-perception, i.e. perception transmitted via the sense organs and 'bodily senses' (kinaesthetic, vaso-motor sensation, etc.). On the one hand, it is an element of presentation, since it transmits to the presenting function the perceived image of the outer object; on the other hand, it is an element of feeling, because through the perception of bodily changes it lends the character of affect to feeling, (v. Affect). Because sensation transmits physical changes to consciousness, it also represents the physiological impulse. But it is not identical with it, since it is merely a perceptive function. A distinction must be made between sensuous, or concrete, and abstract sensation. The former includes the forms above alluded to, whereas the latter designates an abstracted kind of sensation, i.e. a sensation that is separated from other psychological elements. For concrete sensation never appears as ' pure ' sensation, but is always mixed up with presentations, feelings, and thoughts. Abstract sensation, on the contrary, represents a differ- entiated kind of perception which might be termed * aesthetic* in so far as it follows its own principle and is as equally detached from every admixture of the differences of the perceived object as from the subjective admixture of feeling and thought, thus raising itself to a degree of purity which is never attained by concrete sensation. The concrete sensation of a flower, for instance, transmits not only the perception of the flower itself, but also an image of the stem, leaves, habitat, etc. It is also directly mingled with the feelings of pleasure or dislike which the sight of it provokes, or with the scent-perceptions simultaneously ex- cited, or with thoughts concerning its botanical classification. Abstract sensation, on the other hand, immediately picks out the most salient sensuous attribute of the flower, DEFINITIONS 587 as for instance its brilliant redness, and makes it the sole or at least the principal content of consciousness, entirely detached from all the other admixtures alluded to above. Abstract sensation is mainly suited to the artist Like every abstraction, it is a product of the differentiation of function : hence there is nothing primordial about it The primordial form of the function is always concrete, i.e. blended (v. Archaism, and Concretism). Concrete sensa- tion as such is a reactive phenomenon, while abstract sensation, like every abstraction, is always linked up with the will, i.e. the element of direction. The will that is directed towards the abstraction of sensation is both the expression and the activity of the asthetic sensational attitude. Sensation is a prominent characteristic both in the child and the primitive, in so far as it always predominates over thinking and feeling, though not necessarily over intuition. For I regard sensation as conscious, and in- tuition as unconscious, perception. For me, sensation and intuition represent a pair of opposites, or two mutually compensating functions, like thinking and feeling. Think- ing and feeling as independent functions are developed, both ontogenetically and phylogenetically, from sensation (and equally, of course, from intuition as the necessary counterpart of sensation). In so far as sensation is an elementary phenomenon, it is something absolutely given, something that, in con- trast to thinking and feeling, is not subject to the laws of reason. I therefore term it an irrational (q.v.) function, although reason contrives to assimilate a great number of sensations into rational associations. A man whose whole attitude is orientated by the prin- ciple of sensation belongs to the sensation type (v. Types). Normal sensations are proportionate, i.e. their value approximately corresponds with the intensity of the physical stimulus. Pathological sensations are dispro- 588 DEFINITIONS portionate, i.e. either abnormally weak or abnormally strong : in the former case they are inhibited, in the latter exaggerated. The inhibition is the result of the pre- dominance of another function ; the exaggeration proceeds from an abnormal amalgamation with another function, e.g. a blending with a still undifferentiated feeling or thinking function. In such a case, the exaggeration of sensation ceases as soon as the function with which sensation is fused is differentiated in its own right. The psychology of the neuroses yields extremely illuminating examples of this, where, for instance, a strong sexualization (Freud) of other functions very often prevails, i.e. a blending of sexual sensation with other functions. 48. Soul (anima) : I have found sufficient cause, in my investigations into the structure of the unconscious, to make a conceptual distinction between the soul and the psyche. By the psyche I understand the totality of all the psychic processes, both conscious as well as uncon- scious ; whereas by soui^ I understand a definitely demar- cated function-complex that is best characterized as a 'personality'. In order to describe more exactly what I mean by this, I must introduce still remoter points of view such, in particular, as the phenomena of somnambulism, of character-duplication, of dissociation of personality, the investigation of which is primarily due to French research, and which has enabled us to recognize the possibility of a plurality of personalities in one and the same individual \ * Azam, Hypnotisms Double Conscience. Paris, 1887. Morton Prince, The Dissociation of a Personality. 1906. JLandmann, Die Mehrheit geistiger Persdnlichkeiten in einem Indi- vidttum. 1894. Ribot, Die PersOnlichkeit. 1894. Flouraoy, Des Indes a la planete Mars. 1900. Jung. On the Psychology and Pathology of so-called Occult Phenomena (Collected Papers, 2ndedn.) DEFINITIONS 589 It is at once evident that such a plurality of person- alities can never appear in a normal individual ; but the possibility of a dissociation of personality which these cases represent must also exist, at least potentially, within the range of normality. And, as a matter of fact, a moderately acute psychological observation can succeed without much difficulty in proving at least the traces of character-splitting in the normal individual. For example, we have only to observe a man rather closely under varying circumstances, to discover that a transition from one milieu to another brings about a striking alteration in his personality, whereby a sharply-outlined and distinctly changed character emerges. The proverbial expression 'angel abroad, and devil at home ' is a formulation of the phenomenon of character-splitting derived from everyday experience. A definite milieu demands a definite attitude. Corresponding with the duration or frequency with which such a milieu-attitude is demanded, the more or less habitual it becomes. Great numbers of men of the educated classes are obliged to move in two, for the most part totally different, milieux viz. in the family and domestic circle and in the world of affairs. These two totally different environments demand two totally different attitudes, which, in proportion to the degree of identifica- tion (q.v.) of the ego with the momentary attitude, produce a duplication of character. In accordance with social conditions and necessities, the social character is orientated, on the one hand by the expectations or obligations of the social milieu, and on the other by the social aims and efforts of the subject. The domestic character is, as a rule, more the product of the subject's laissez-aller indolence and emotional demands; whence it frequently happens that men who in public life are extremely energetic, bold, obstinate, wilful, and inconsiderate appear good-natured, mild, accommodating, even weak, when at 590 DEFINITIONS home within the sphere of domesticity. Which, then, is the true character, the real personality ? This is a question it is often impossible to answer. This brief consideration will show that, even in the normal individual, character-splitting is by no means an impossibility. We are, therefore, perfectly justified in treating the question of dissociation of personality also as a problem of normal psychology. According to my view then to pursue the discussion the above question should be met with a frank avowal that such a man has no real character at all, i.e. he is not individual (q.v.) but collective (q.v.), i.e. he corresponds with general circumstances and expectations. Were he an individual, he would have but one and the same character with every variation of attitude. It would not be identical with the momentary attitude, neither could it nor would it prevent his individuality from finding expression in one state just as clearly as in another. He is an individual, of course, like every being ; but an unconscious one. Through his more or less complete identification with the attitude of the moment, he at least deceives others, and also often himself, as to his real character. He puts on a mask, which he knows corres- ponds with his conscious intentions, while it also meets with the requirements and opinions of his environment, so that first one motive then the other is in the ascendant This mask, viz. the ad hoc adopted attitude, I have called ihejersona* which was the designation given to the mask worn by the actors of antiquity. A man who is identified with this mask I would call "personal" (as opposed to "individual"). Both the attitudes of the case considered above are collective personalities, which may be simply summed up under the name " persona " or " personae ". I have already i Jung, The Conception of the Unconscious (Collected Papers, ind edn., p. 457). DEFINITIONS .591 suggested above that the real individuality is different from both. Thus, the persona is a function-complex which has come into existence for reasons of adaptation or necessary convenience, but by no means is it identical with the indivi- duality. The function-complex of the persona is exclusively concerned with the relation to the object. The relation of the individual to the outer object must be sharply distinguished from the relation to the subject. By the subject I mean those vague, dim stirrings, feelings, thoughts, and sensations which have no demonstrable flow towards the object from the continuity of conscious experi- ence, but well up like a disturbing, inhibiting, or at times beneficent, influence from the dark inner depths, from the background and underground of consciousness which, in their totality, constitute one's perception of the unconscious life. The subject, conceived as the c inner ' object, is the unconscious. There is a relation to the inner object, viz. an inner attitude, just as there is a relation to the outer object, viz. an outer attitude. It is quite intelligible that this inner attitude, by reason of its extremely intimate and inaccessible nature, is far less widely known than the outer attitude, which is immediately perceived by everyone. Nevertheless, the task of making a concept of this inner attitude does not seem to me impossible. All those so- called accidental inhibitions, fancies, moods, vague feelings, and fragments of phantasy, which occasionally harass and disturb the accomplishment of concentrated work, not to mention the repose of the most normal of men, and which evoke rational explanations either in the form of physical causes or reasons of like nature, usually have their origin, not in the reasons ascribed to them by consciousness, but in the perceptions of unconscious processes, which, in fact, they are. Among such phenomena, dreams also naturally belong : these are admittedly liable to be accounted for by such external and superficial causes as indigestion, sleeping 59* DEFINITIONS on one's back, and the like, in spite of the fact that such explanations never withstand a searching criticism. The attitude of individual men to these things is extremely variable. One man will not allow himself to be disturbed in the smallest degree by his inner processes he can, as it were, ignore them entirely ; while another is in the highest degree subject to them : at the first waking-moment some phantasy or other, or a disagreeable feeling, spoils his temper for the whole day ; a vague, unpleasant sensation suggests the idea of a secret malady, or a dream leaves him with a gloomy foreboding, although in other ways he is by no means superstitious. To others, again, these unconscious stirrings have only a very episodic access, or only a certain category of them come to the surface. For one man, perhaps, they have onever yet appeared to consciousness as anything worth thinking about, while for another they are a problem of daily brooding. The one values them physiologically, or ascribes them to the conduct of his neighbours ; another finds in them a religious revelation. These entirely different ways of dealing with the stirrings of the unconscious are just as habitual as the attitudes to the outer object. The inner attitude, there- fore, corresponds with just as definite a function-complex as the outer attitude. Those cases in which the inner psychic processes appear to be entirely overlooked are lacking a typical inner attitude just as little as those who constantly overlook the outer object and the reality of facts lack a typical outer attitude. The persona of these latter, by no means infrequent, cases has the character of unrelatedness, or at times even a blind inconsiderateness, which frequently yields only to the harshest blows of fate. Not seldom, it is just those individuals whose persona is characterized by a rigid inconsiderateness and absence oi relations who possess an attitude to the unconscious processes which suggests a character of extreme suscepti- DEFINITIONS 393 bility. As they are inflexible and inaccessible outwardly, so are they weak, flaccid, and determinable in relation to their inner processes. In such cases, therefore, the inner attitude corresponds with an inner personality diametri- cally opposed and different from the outer. I know a man, for instance, who without pity blindly destroyed the happiness of those nearest to him, and yet he would interrupt his journey when travelling on important business just to enjoy the beauty of a forest scene glimpsed from the carriage window. Cases of this kind are doubtless familiar to everyone ; it is needless therefore to enumerate further examples. With the same justification as daily experience furnishes us for speaking of an outer personality are we also justified in assuming the existence of an inner personality. The inner personality is the manner of one's behaviour towards the inner psychic processes; it is the inner attitude, the character, that is turned towards the unconscious. I term the outer attitude, or outer character, the persona, the inner attitude I term the antma, or soul. In the same degree as an attitude is habitual, is it a more or less firmly welded function-complex, with which the ego may be more or less identified. This is plastically expressed in language: of a man who has an habitual attitude towards certain situations, we are accustomed to say: He is quite another man when doing this or that. This is a practical demonstration of the independence of the function-complex of an habitual attitude; it is as though another personality had taken possession of the individual, as ' though another spirit had entered into him '. The same autonomy as is so often granted to the outer attitude is also claimed by the soul or inner attitude. One of the most difficult of all educational achievements is this task of changing the outer attitude, or persona. But to change the soul is just as difficult, since its structure tends to be just as firmly welded as is that of the persona. U 594 DEFINITIONS Just as the persona is an entity, which often appears to constitute the whole character of a man, even accompany* ing him practically without change throughout his entire life, so the soul is also a definitely circumscribed entity, with a character which may prove unalterably firm and independent. Hence, it frequently offers itself to characterization and description. As regards the character of the soul, my experience confirms the validity of the general principle that it maintains, on the whole, a complementary relation to the outer character. Experience teaches us that the soul is wont to contain all those general human qualities the conscious attitude lacks. The tyrant tormented by bad dreams, gloomy forebodings, and inner fears, is a typical figure. Outwardly inconsiderate, harsh,. and unapproach- able, he is inwardly susceptible to every shadow, and subject to every fancy, as Chough he were the least independent, and the most impressionable, of men. Thus his soul contains those general human qualities of suggestibility and weakness which are wholly lacking in his outer attitude, or persona. Where the persona is intellectual, the soul is quite certainly sentimental. That the complementary character of the soul is also concerned with the sex-character is a fact which can no longer seriously be doubted. A very feminine woman has a masculine soul, and a very manly man a feminine soul. This opposition is based upon the fact that a man, for instance, is not in all things wholly masculine, but has also certain feminine traits. The, more manly his outer attitude, the more will his womanly traits be effaced; these then appear in the soul. This circumstance explains why it is that the very manly men are most subject to characteristic weaknesses ; their attitude to the unconscious has a womanly weakness and impressionability. And, vice versa, it is often just the most womanly women who, DEFINITIONS 395 in respect of certain inner things, have an extreme intract- ableness, obstinacy, and wilfulness; which qualities are found in such intensity only in the outer attitude of men. These are manly traits, whose exclusion from the womanly outer attitude makes them qualities of the soul. If, there- fore, we speak of the anima of a man, we must logically speak of the animus of a woman, if we are to give the soul of a woman its right name. Whereas logic and objective reality commonly prevail in the outer attitude of man, or are at least regarded as an ideal, in the case of woman it is feeling. But in the soul the relations are reversed : inwardly it is the man who feels, and the woman who reflects. Hence man's greater liability to total despair, while a woman can always find comfort and hope ; hence man is more liable to put an end to himself than woman. However prone a woman may be to fall a victim to social circumstances, as in prostitution for instance, a man is equally delivered over to impulses from the unconscious in the form of alcoholism and other vices. As regards the general human characters, the character of the soul may be deduced from that of the persona. Everything which should normally be in the outer attitude, but is decidedly wanting there, will invariably be found in the inner attitude. This is a basic rule, which my experience has borne out again and again. But, as regards individual qualities, nothing can be deduced about them in this way. We can be certain only that, when a man is identical with his persona, the individual qualities are associated with the soul. It is this association which gives rise to the symbol, so often appearing in dreams, of the soul's pregnancy; this symbol has its source in the primordial image of the hero-birth. The child that is to be born signifies the individuality, which, though existing, is not yet conscious. Hence in the same way as the persona, which expresses one's adaptation to the 53* DEFINITIONS milieu, is as a rule strongly influenced and shaped by the milieu, so the soul is just as profoundly moulded by the unconscious and its qualities. Just as the persona, almost necessarily, takes on primitive traits in a primitive milieu, so the soul assumes the archaic characters of the un- conscious as well as its prospective, symbolic character. Whence arise the 'pregnant* and 'creative* qualities of the inner attitude. Identity with the persona automatically conditions an unconscious identity with the soul, because, when the subject or ego is not differentiated from the persona, it can have no conscious relation to the processes of the unconscious. Hence it is these processes: it is identical with them. The man who is unconditionally his outer r61e therewith delivers himself over unquestioningly to the inner processes, i.e. he will even frustrate his outer r61e by absolute inner necessity, reducing it ad absurdum (enantiodromia ; q.v.). A steady holding to the individual line is thereby excluded, and his life runs its course in inevitable opposition. Moreover, in such a case the soul is always projected into a corresponding, real object, with which a relation of almost absolute dependence exists. Every reaction proceeding from this object has an immediate, inwardly arresting effect upon the subject. Tragic ties are frequently formed in this way (v. Soul- image). 49. Soul-Image: The soul-image is a definite image (q.v.) among those produced by the unconscious. Just as the persona, or outer attitude, is represented in dreams by the images of certain persons who possess the oat- standing qualities of the persona in especially marked form, so the soul, the inner attitude of the unconscious, is similarly represented by definite persons whose particular qualities correspond with those of the soul. Such an image is called a ' soul-image '. Occasionally these images DEFINITIONS 597 are quite unknown or mythological figures. With men the soul, i.e. the anima, is usually figured by the un- conscious in the person of a woman ; with women it is a man. In every case where the individuality is unconscious, and therefore associated with the soul, the soul-image has the character of the same sex. In all those cases in which an identity with the persona (v. Soul) is present, and the soul accordingly is unconscious, the soul-image is transferred into, a real person. This person is the object of an intense love or an equally intense hatred (possibly even fear). The influence of such a person has the character of something immediate ' and absolutely compelling, since it always evokes an affective response. The affect depends upon the fact that a real conscious adaptation to the object who represents the soul-image is impossible. Because the objective relation is alike im- possible and non-existent, the libido gets dammed up and explodes in a release of affect. Affects always occur where there is a failure of adaptation. A conscious adaptation to the object who represents the soul-image is impossible only when the subject is unconscious of the anima. Were he conscious of it, it could be distinguished from the object, whose immediate effects might then be resolved, since the potency of the object depends upon the projection of the soul-image. For a man, a woman is best fitted to be the bearer of his soul-image, by virtue of the womanly quality of his soul; similarly a man, in the case of a woman. Wherever an unconditional, or almost magical, relation exists between the sexes, it is always a question of pro- jection of the soul-image. Since such relations are common, just as frequently must the soul be unconscious, i*e. great numbers of men must be unaware of how they are related to the inner psychic processes. Because such unconsciousness goes always hand in hand with a cor- 598 DEFINITIONS respondingly complete identification with the persona (v. Soul), it dearly follows that the latter also must occur very frequently. This accords with reality; for, as a matter of fact, large numbers of men are wholly identified with their outer attitude, and therefore have no conscious relation to their inner processes. But the converse may also happen; namely, where the soul-image is not pro- jected, but remains with the subject; whereupon an identification with the soul is liable to result just in so far as the subject is himself convinced that his manner of behaviour to his inner processes is also his unique and actual character. In such a case, the unconsciousness of the persona results in its projection upon an object, more especially of the same sex, thus providing a foundation for many cases of more or less admitted homosexuality, and of father-transferences in men or mother-transferences in women. Such cases are always persons with defective external adaptation and comparative unrelatedness, because the identification with the soul begets an attitude with a predominant orientation towards the inner processes, whereby the object is deprived of its determining influence. Whenever the soul-image is projected, an unconditional, affective tie to the object appears. If it is not projected, a relatively unadapted state results, which Freud has partially described as narcissism. The projection of the soul-image offers a release from a too great preoccupation with the inner processes, in so far as the behaviour of the object harmonizes with the soul-image. The subject is thus enabled to live his persona, and to develop it further. In the long run, however, the object will scarcely be able to correspond consistently with the soul-image, although many women succeed, by constantly disregarding their own lives, in representing their husband's soul-image for a very considerable time. The biological, feminine instinct assists them in this. A man may unconsciously do the DEFINITIONS 599 same for his wife, only he is thereby prompted to deeds which, for good or evil, finally exceed his powers. In his case, also, the biological masculine instinct is an assistance. If the soul-image is not projected, a thoroughly morbid differentiation of the relation to the unconscious gradually develops. The subject is increasingly overwhelmed by unconscious contents, which his defective relation to the object makes him powerless to organize, or to put to any sort of use. Obviously, such contents as these very seriously prejudice the relation to the object These attitudes only represent, of course, the two extremes, between which the more normal attitudes are to be found. The normal man, as we know, is not distinguished by any special clarity, purity, or depth, in the matter of psycho- logical phenomena, but commonly inclines to a certain indistinctness in such matters. In men with a good- natured and inoffensive outer attitude, the soul-image, as a rule, has a rather malevolent character. A good literary example of this is the daemonic woman who accompanies Zeus in Spitteler's "Olympischer Friihling." For the idealistic woman, a depraved man is often a bearer of the soul-image ; hence the ' salvation phantasy ' so frequent in such cases. The same thing often happens with men, where the prostitute is surrounded with the halo of a soul crying for succour. 60. Subjective Plane : By interpretation upon the sub- jective plane, I understand that conception of a dream or phantasy in which the persons or conditions appearing therein are related to subjective factors entirely belonging to the jsubject's own psyche. It is common knowledge that the image of an object existing in our psyche is never exactly like the object, but at most only similar. Although admittedly brought about through sense-perceptions and their apperception, it is actually the product of processes 600 DEFINITIONS inherent in the psyche whose activity the object merely stimulates. Experience shows that the evidence of our senses very largely coincides with the qualities of the object, but our apperception is subject to well-nigh incalculable subjective influences, which render the correct knowledge of a human character extraordinarily difficult. Moreover, such a complex psychic factor as is presented by a human character offers only a very slight field for pure sense perception. Its cognition also demands 'feeling-into', reflection, and intuition. The final judgment that Issues from these complex factors is always of very doubtful tralue ; necessarily, therefore, the image we form of a human object is, to a very large extent, subjectively conditioned. Hence, in practical psychology we should be well advised to differentiate the image or imago of a man quite definitely from his real existence. Not infrequently as a result of its extremely subjective origin, an imago is actually more an image of a subjective function-complex than of the. object itself. In the analytical treatment of unconscious products, therefore, it is essential that the imago shall not immedi- . atety be assumed to be identical with the object ; it is wiser to regard it as an image of the subjective relation to the object. This is what is meant by the consideration of a product upon the subjective plane. The treatment of an unconscious product upon this plane results in the presence of subjective judgments and tendencies of which, the bearer is made the object When, therefpre, an object-imago appears in an unconscious product, it is not definitely concerned with the real object per se, but just as much, possibly even more, with a sub- jective function-complex (v. Soul-image). The application of meaning upon this plane yields us a comprehensive psychological explanation, not only of dreams but also of literary works, in which the individual DEFINITIONS 601 figures represent relatively autonomous function-complexes in the psyche of the poet 61. Symbol : The concept of a symbol should, in my view, be strictly differentiated from that of a mere sign. Symbolic and semiotic interpretations are entirely different things. In his book Ferrero * does not speak of symbols in the strict sense, but of signs. For instance, the old custom of handing over a sod of turf at the sale of a piece of land, might be described as 'symbolic' in the vulgar use of the word ; but actually it is purely semiotic in character. The piece of turf is a sign, or token, representing the whole estate. The winged wheel worn by the railway employes is not a symbol of the railway, but a sign that distinguishes the personnel of the railway. But the symbol always presupposes that the chosen expression is the best possible description, or formula, of a relatively unknown fact; a fact, however, which is none the less recognized or postu- lated as existing. Thus, when the winged-wheel badge of the railway employ^ is explained as a symbol, it is tanta- mount to saying that the man has to do with an unknown entity whose nature cannot be differently or better ex- pressed than by a winged wheel. Every view which interprets the symbolic expression as an analogous or abbreviated expression of a known thing is semiotic. A conception which interprets the symbolic expression as the best possible formulation of a relatively unknown thing which cannot conceivably, therefore, be more clearly or characteristically represented is symbolic. A view which interprets the symbolic expression, as an intentional tran- scription or transformation of a known thing is allegoric. The explanation of the Cross as a symbol of Divine Love is scmiotic, since Divine Love describes the fact to be ex- pressed better and more aptly than a cross, which can have * Ferrero, Les his psychologiques du symbolism* , 1893. U* 602 DEFINITIONS many other meanings. Whereas that interpretation of the Cross is symbolic which puts it above all imaginable explanations, regarding it as an expression of an unknown and as yet incomprehensible fact of a mystical or trans- cendent, <.*. psychological character, which simply finds its most striking and appropriate representation in the Cross. In so far as a symbol is a living thing, it is the expression of a thing not to be characterized in any other or better way. The symbol is alive only in so far as it is pregnant with meaning. But, if its meaning is born out of it, l.e. if that expression should be found which formu- lates the sought, expected, or divined thing still better than the hitherto accepted symbol, then the symbol is dead, i.e. it possesses only a historical significance. We may still go on speaking of it as a symbol, under the tacit assumption that we are speaking of it as it was before its better expression had been born from it The way in which St Paul and the early mystical speculators handle the symbol. of the Cross shows that for them it was a living symbol which represented the inexpressible in an unsurpassable way. For every esoteric explanation the symbol is dead, since through esoterism it has been brought to a better expression (at least ostensibly), whereupon it merely serves as a conventional sign for associations which are more completely and better known elsewhere. Only for the exoteric standpoint is the symbol always living. An expression that stands for a known thing always remains merely a sign and is never a symbol. It is, therefore, quite impossible to make a living symbol, i.e. one that is pregnant with meaning, from known associations. For what is thus manufactured never contains more than was put into it Every psychic product, in so far as it is the best possible expression at the moment for a fact as yet unknown or only relatively known, may be regarded as DEFINITIONS 603 a symbol, provided also that we are prepared to accept the expression as designating something that is only divined and not yet clearly conscious. Inasmuch as every scientific theory contains a hypo- thesis, and therefore an anticipatory designation of a fact still essentially unknown, it is a symbol. Furthermore, every psychological phenomenon is a symbol when we are willing to assume that it purports, or signifies, some- thing different and still greater, something therefore which is withheld from present knowledge. This assumption is absolutely possible to every consciousness which is orientated to the deeper meaning of things, and to the possibilities such an attitude enfolds. Such an assumption is impossible only for this same consciousness when it has itself contrived an expression, merely to contain or affirm just as much as the purpose of its creation intended, as for example a mathematical term. For another conscious- ness, however, this restriction does not exist at all. It can also conceive the mathematical term as a symbol of an unknown psychic fact concealed within the purpose of its production, in so far as this fact is demonstrably unknown to the man who created the semiotic expression, and therefore could not be the object of any conscious use. Whether a thing is a symbol or not depends chiefly upon the attitude of the consciousness considering it ; as for instance, a mind that regards the given fact not merely as such but also as an expression of the yet unknown. Hence it is quite possible for a man to produce a fact which does not appear in the least symbolic to himself, although profoundly so to another. The converse is also possible. There are undoubtedly products whose sym- bolical character not merely depends upon the attitude of the considering consciousness, but manifests itself spontaneously in a symbolical effect' upon the regarding subject. Such products are so fashioned that they must 604 DEFINITIONS forfeit every sort of meaning, unless the symbolical one is conceded them. As a pure actuality, a triangle in which an eye is enclosed is so meaningless that it is impossible for the observer to regard it as mere accidental trifling. Such a figure immediately conjures up a symbolical conception of it This effect is supported either by a frequent and identical occurrence of the same figure, or by a particularly careful and arresting manner of production which is the actual expression of a particular value placed upon it Symbols that are without the spontaneous effect just described .are either dead, i.e. outstripped by a better formulation, or else products whose symbolical nature depends exclusively upon the attitude of the observing consciousness. This attitude that conceives the given phenomenon as symbolic may be briefly described as the symbolical attitude. It is only partially justified by the behaviour of things ; for the rest, it is the outcome of a definite view of life endowing the occurrence, whether great or small, with a meaning to which a certain deeper value is given than to pure actuality. This view of things stands opposed to another view, which lays the accent upon pure actuality, and subordinates meaning to facts. For this latter attitude there can be no symbol at all, wherever the symbolism depends exclusively upon the manner of consideration. But -even for such an attitude symbols also exist: namely, those that prompt the observer to the conjecture of a hidden meaning. An image of a god with the head of a bull can certainly be explained as a human body with a bull's head. But this explanation cou!4 scarcely hold the scales against the symbolic interpretation, since the symbol is too arresting to be entirely overlooked. A symbol that seems to obtrude its symbolical nature need not be alive. Its effect may be wholly restricted, for instance, to the historical DEFINITIONS 605 or philosophical intellect It merely arouses intellectual or aesthetic interest. But a symbol really lives only when it is the best and highest possible expression of something divined but not yet known even to the observer. For under these circumstances it provokes unconscious partici- pation. It advances and creates life. As Faust says: " How differently this token works upon me ! " The living symbol shapes and formulates an essential unconscious factor, and the more generally this factor prevails, the more general is the operation of the symbol ; for in every soul it touches an associated chord. Since, on the one hand the symbol is the best possible expression of what is still unknown an expression, moreover, which cannot be surpassed for the given epoch it must proceed from the most complex and differentiated contemporary mental atmosphere. But since, on the other hand, the living symbol must embrace and contain that which relates a considerable group of men for such an effect to be within its power, it must contain just that which may be common to a large group of men. Hence, this can never be the most highly differentiated or the highest attainable, since only the very few could attain to, or understand it ; but it must be something that is still so primitive that its omni- presence stands beyond all doubt. Only when the symbol comprises this something, and brings it to the highest possible expression, has it any general efficacy. Therein consists the potent and, at the same time, redeeming effect of a living, social symbol. All that I have now said concerning the social symbol holds good for the individual symbol. There are individual psychic products, whose manifest symbolic character at once compels a symbolical conception. For the individual, they possess a similar functional signifi- cance as the social symbol for a larger human group. Such products, however, never have an exclusively con- 5o6 DEFINITIONS SCIONS or unconscious source, but proceed from a uniform co-operation of both. Purely conscious products are no more convincingly symbolic, per se, than purely uncon- scious products, and vice versa; it devolves, therefore, upon the symbolical attitude of the observing conscious- ness to endow them with the character of a symbol. But they may equally well be conceived as mere causally conditioned facts, in much the same sense as one might regard the red exanthema of scarlet fever as a * symbol ' of the disease. In such a case, of course, it is correct to speak of a ' symptom ', not of a symbol. In my view, therefore, Freud is justified, when, from his standpoint, he speaks of symptomatic 1 , rather than symbolical actions; since, for him, these phenomena are not symbolic in the sense here defined, but are symptomatic signs of a definite and generally known underlying process. There are, of course, neurotics who regard their unconscious products, which are primarily morbid symptoms, as symbols of supreme importance. Generally, however, this is not the case. On the contrary, the neurotic of to-day is only too prone to regard a product that may actually be full of significance, as a ' symptom '. The fact that there are two distinct and mutually contradictory views, eagerly advocated on either side, concerning the meaning and the meaninglessness of things, can only show that processes clearly exist which express no particular meaning, being in fact mere consequences, or symptoms; while there are other processes which bear within them a hidden meaning, processes which have not merely arisen from something, but also tend to become something, and are therefore symbols. It is left to our judgment and criticism to decide whether the thing we are dealing with is a symptom or a symbol. The symbol is always a creation of an extremely Freud. Psychopathohgy of Everyday Lift. DEFINITIONS 607 complex nature, since data proceeding from every psychic function have entered into its composition. Hence its nature is neither rational nor irrational. It certainly has one side that accords with reason, but it has also another side that is inaccessible to reason ; for not only the data of reason, but also the irrational data of pure inner and outer perception, have entered into its nature. The pro- spective meaning and pregnant significance of the symbol appeals just as strongly to thinking as to feeling, while its peculiar plastic imagery when shaped into sensuous form stimulates sensation just as much as intuition. The living symbol cannot come to birth in an inert or poorly- developed mind, for such a man will rest content with the already existing symbols offered by established tradition. Only the passionate yearning of a highly developed mind, for whom the dictated symbol no longer contains the highest reconciliation in one expression, can create a new symbol. But, inasmuch as the symbol proceeds from his highest and latest mental achievement and must also include the deepest roots of his being, it cannot be a one- sided product of the most highly differentiated mental functions, but must at least have an equal source, in the lowest and most primitive motions of his psyche. For this co-operation of antithetic states to be at all possible, they must both stand side by side in fullest conscious opposition. Such a condition necessarily entails a violent disunion with oneself, even to a point where thesis and antithesis mutually deny each other, while the ego is still forced to recognize its absolute participation in both. But, should there exist a subordination of one part, the symbol will be disproportionately the product of the other, and in corresponding degree will be less a symbol than a symptom, viz. the symptom of a repressed antithesis. But, to the extent in which a symbol is merely a symptom, it also lacks the redeeming effect, since it fails to express 608 DEFINITIONS the full right to existence of every portion of the psyche, constantly calling to mind the suppression of the anti- thesis, although consciousness may omit to take this into account. But, when the opposites are given a complete equality of right, attested to by the ego's unconditioned participa- tion in both thesis and antithesis, a suspension of the will results ; for the will can no longer be operative while every motive has an equally strong counter-motive by its side. Since life cannot tolerate suspension, a damming up of vital energy results, which would lead to an insupportable condition from the tension of the opposites did not a new reconciling function arise which could lead above and beyond the opposites. It arises naturally, however, from the regression of the libido effected by its damming up. Since progress is made impossible by the total disunion of the will, the libido streams backwards, the stream Sows back as it were to its source, fa, the suspension and inactivity of the conscious brings about an activity of the unconscious where all the differentiated functions have their common, archaic root, and where that promiscuity of contents exists of which the primitive mentality still exhibits numerous remainders. Through the activity of the unconscious, a content is unearthed which is constellated by thesis and antithesis in equal measure, and is related to both in a compensatory (q.v.) relation. Since this content discloses a relation to both thesis and antithesis, it forms a middle territory, upon which the opposites can be reconciled. Suppose, for example, we conceive the opposition to be sensuality versus spirituality ; then, by virtue of its wealth of spiritual associations, the mediatory content born from the uncon- scious offers a welcome expression to the spiritual thesis, and by virtue of its plastic sensuousness it embraces the sensual antithesis. But the ego rent between thesis and DEFINITIONS 609 antithesis finds in the uniting middle territory its counter- part, its reconciling and unique expression; and eagerly seizes upon it, in order to be delivered from its division. Hence, the energy created by the tension of the opposites flows into the mediatory expression, protecting it against the conflict of the opposites which forthwith begins both about it and within, since both are striving to resolve the new expression in their own specific sense. Spirituality tries to make something spiritual out of the unconscious expression, while sensuality aims at something sensual; the one wishing to create science and art from the new expression, the other sensual experience. The resolution of the unconscious product into either is successful only when the incompletely divided ego clings rather more to one side than the other. Should one side succeed in resolving the unconscious product, it does not fall alone to that side, but the ego goes with it ; whereupon an identification of the ego with the most-favoured function (v. Inferior Function) inevitably follows. This results in a subsequent repetition of the process of division upon a higher plane. But if, through the resoluteness of the ego, neither thesis nor antithesis can succeed in resolving the unconscious product, this is sufficient demonstration that the unconscious expression is superior to both sides. The steadfastness of the ego and the superiority of the mediatory expression over thesis and antithesis are to my mind correlates, each mutually conditioning the other. It would appear at times as though the fixity of the inborn individuality were the decisive factor, at times as though the mediatory expression possessed a superior force prompting the ego to absolute steadfastness. But, in reality, it is quite conceivable that the firmness and certainty of the individuality on the one hand, and the superior force of the mediatory product on the other, are 6io DEFINITIONS merely tokens of one and the same fact. When the mediatory product is preserved in this way, it fashions 'a raw product which is for construction, not for dissolution, and which becomes a common object for both thesis and antithesis; thus it becomes a new content that governs the whole attitude, putting an end to the division, and forcing the energy of the opposites into a common channel. The suspension of life is, therewith, abolished, and the individual life can compass a greater range with new energy and new goals. In its totality I have named the process just described the transcendent function, and here I am not using the term ' function ' in the sense of a basic function, but rather as a complex-function compounded of other functions, neither with 'transcendent' do I wish to designate any meta- physical quality, but merely the fact that by this function a transition is made possible from the one attitude to the other. The raw material, when elaborated by the thesis and antithesis, which in its process of formation reconciles the opposites, is the living symbol. In the essential raw- ness of its material, defying time and dissolution, lies its prospective significance, and in the form which its crude material receives through the influence of the opposites, lies its effective power over all the psychic functions. Indications of the foundations of the symbol-forming process are to be found in the scanty records of the initiation-period experienced by founders of religions, e.g. Jesus and Satan, Buddha and Mara, Luther and the Devil, Zwingli and his previous worldly life; also Goethe's conception of the rejuvenation of Faust through the contract with the Devil. Towards the end of Zarathustra we find a striking example of the suppression of the antithesis in the figure of the " ugliest man". 52. Synthetic : (v. Constructive). DEFINITIONS 611 53. Thinking : This I regard as one of the four basic psychological functions (v. Function). Thinking is that psychological function which, in accordance with its own laws, brings given presentations into conceptual connection. It is an apperceptive activity and, as such, must be differentiated into active and passive thought-activity. Active thinking is an act of will, passive thinking an occurrence. In the former case, I submit the representa- tion to a deliberate act of judgment; in the latter case, conceptual connections establish themselves, and judg- ments are formed which may; even contradict my aim they may lack all harmony with my conscious objective, hence also, for me, any feeling of direction, although by an act of active apperception I may subsequently come to a recognition of their directedness. Active thinking would correspond, therefore, with my idea of directed thinking. 1 Passive thinking was inadequately character- ized in my previous work as " phantasying " 2 . To-day I would term it intuitive thinking. To my mind, a simple stringing together of representa- tions, such as is described by certain psychologists as associative thinking* is not thinking at all, but mere presentation. The term ' thinking' should, in my view, be confined to the linking up of representations by means of a concept, where, in other words, an act of judgment prevails, whether such act be the product of one's inten- tion or not The faculty of directed thinking, I term intellect: the faculty of passive, or undirected, thinking, I term intellectual intuition. Furthermore, I describe directed thinking or intellect as the rational (q.v.) function, since it arranges the representations under concepts in accordance with the presuppositions of my conscious rational norm. Undirected 1 Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious, p. 14. Ibid, p. 19. 3 James, Text-booh of Psychology, p. 464 (London : Longmans & Co.). 612 DEFINITIONS thinking, or intellectual intuition, on the contrary is, in my view, an irrational (q.v.) function, since it criticizes and arranges the representations according to norms that are unconscious to me and consequently not appreciated as reasonable. In certain cases, however, I may recognize subsequently that the intuitive act of judgment also corresponds with reason, although it has come about in a way that appears to me irrational. Thinking that is regulated by feeling, I do not regard as intuitive thinking, but as thought dependent upon feeling ; it does not follow its own logical principle, but is subordinated to the principle of feeling. In such thinking the laws of logic are only ostensibly present; in reality they are suspended in favour of the aims of feeling. 54. Transcendent Function. (v. Symbol). 55. Type : A type is a specimen, or example, which reproduces in a characteristic way the character of a species or general class. In the narrower meaning used in this particular work, a type is a characteristic model of a general attitude (q.v.) occurring in many individual forms. From a great number of existing or possible attitudes I have, in this particular research, brought four into especial relief; namely, those that are primarily orientated by the four basic psychological functions (. Function) viz. thinking, feeling, intuition, and sensation. In so far as such an attitude is habitual, thus lending a certain stamp to the character of the individual, I speak of a psychological type. These types, which are based upon the root-functions and which one can term the thinking, the feeling, the intuitive, and the sensational types, may be divided into two classes according to the quality of the respective basic function : viz. the rational and the irrational. The thinking and the feeling types DEFINITIONS 613 belong to the former. The intuitive .and the sensational to the latter, (v. Rational ; Irrational). A further differen- tiation into two classes is permitted by the preferential movements of the libido, namely introversion and extrover- sion (j.v.). All the basic types can belong equally well to the one or the other class, according to the predomin- ance of introversion or extraversion in the general attitude. A thinking type may belong either to the introverted or the extraverted class, and the same holds good for any other type. The differentiation into rational and irrational types is another point of view, and has nothing to do with introversion and extraversion. In two previous contributions upon the theory of types 1 I did not differentiate the thinking and feeling from the introverted and extraverted types, but identified the thinking type with the introverted, and the feeling with the extraverted. But a more complete investigation of the material has shown me that we must treat the introversion and the extraversion types as superordinated categories to the function types. Such a division, more- over, entirely corresponds with experience, since, for example, there are, undoubtedly two sorts of feeling-types, the attitude of one being orientated more by his feeling- experience, the other more by the object. 56. Unconscious : The concept of the unconscious is for me an exclusively psychological concept, and not a philo- sophical concept in the metaphysical sense. In my view, the unconscious is a psychological boundary-concept, which covers all those psychic contents or processes which are not conscious, i.e. not related to the ego in a perceptible way. My justification for speaking of the existence of i Jung, Contribution it I'etude des types psychologiques (Arch, de Psychologie, T. xvi, p, 152) Idem, The Psychology of Unconscious Processes (Collected Papers t 2nd edn., p. 354) 614 DEFINITIONS unconscious processes at all is derived purely and solely from experience, and in particular from psychopathological experience, where we have undoubted proof that, in a case of hysterical amnesia, for instance, the ego knows nothing of the existence of extensive psychological complexes, and in the next moment a simple hypnotic procedure is enough to bring the lost contents to complete reproduction. From thousands of such experiences we may claim a certain justification for speaking of the existence of unconscious psychic contents. The question as to the state in which an unconscious content exists, when not attached to consciousness, is withheld from every possi- bility of cognition. It is, therefore, quite superfluous to hazard conjectures about it Conjectures concerning cerebration and the whole physiological process, etc., really belong to such phantasies. It is also quite impossible to specify the range of the unconscious, i.e. what contents it embraces. Only experience can decide such questions. We know by experience that conscious contents can become unconscious through loss of their energic value. This is the normal process of 'forgetting 1 . That these contents do not simply get lost beneath the threshold of consciousness we know from the experience that occasionally, under suitable conditions, they can again emerge from their submersion after a decade or so, eg. in dreams or under hypnosis in the form of cryptamnesia \ or through the revival of associations with the forgotten content Furthermore, experience teaches us that conscious contents can fall beneath the threshold of consciousness through 'intentional forgetting', without a too considerable i Cf . Flournoy, Des Indes a la planite Mats. 1900. Idem, tfouvelles Observations sur un cos de somnambulism* avec ghssolalie (Arch, de Psychologic, T. i, p. 101) Jung, On the Psych, and Path, of so-called Occult Phenomena (Col- tcitd Paters) DEFINITIONS 615 depreciation of value what Freud terms the repression of a painful content. A similar effect is produced by the dissociation of the personality, or the disintegration of consciousness, as a result of a violent affect or nervous shock or through the dissolution of the personality in schizophrenia. (Bleuler). Similarly, we know from experience that sense-percep- tions which, either because of their slight intensity or because of the deviation of attention, do not attain to conscious apperception, none the less become psychic contents through unconscious apperception, which again may be demonstrated by hypnosis, for example. The same thing may happen with certain conclusions and other combinations which remain unconscious on account of their too slight energy-content, or because of the deflection of attention. Finally, experience also teaches us that there exist unconscious psychic associations for instance, mytho- logical images which have never been the object of consciousness, and hence must proceed wholly from unconscious activity. To this extent experience gives us certain directing- points for our assumption of the existence of unconscious contents. But it can. affirm nothing as to what the unconscious content may possibly be. It is idle to hazard guesses about it, because what the whole unconscious content could be is quite incalculable. What is the furthest limit of a subliminal sense-perception? Is there any sort of measurement either for the extent or the subtlety of unconscious combinations? When is a for- gotten content totally effaced? To such questions there is no answer. Our experience hitherto of the nature of unconscious contents permits us, however, to make a certain general division of them. We can distinguish a personal uncon- scious, which embraces all the acquisitions of the personal 6x6 DEFINITIONS existence hence the forgotten, the repressed, the sub- liminally perceived, thought and felt. But, in addition to these personal unconscious contents, there exist other contents which do not originate in personal acquisitions but in the inherited possibility of psychic functioning in general, viz. in the inherited brain-structure. These are the mythological associations those motives and images which can spring anew in every age and clime, without historical tradition or migration. I term these contents the collective unconscious. Just as conscious contents are engaged in a definite activity, the unconscious contents so experience teaches us are similarly active. Just as certain results or products proceed from conscious psychic activity, there are also products of unconscious activity, as for instance dreams and phantasies. It is vain to speculate upon the share that consciousness takes in dreams. A dream presents itself to us: we do not consciously produce it Conscious reproduction, or even the perception of it, certainly effects a considerable alteration in it, without, however, doing away with the basic fact of the unconscious source of the productive activity. The functional relation of the unconscious processes to consciousness we may describe as compensatory (y.v.), since experience proves that the unconscious process pushes subliminal material to the surface that is constellated by the conscious situation hence all those contents which could not be lacking in the picture of the conscious situation if everything were conscious. The compensatory function of the unconscious becomes all the more manifest, the more the conscious attitude maintains a one-sided standpoint; this is confirmed by abundant examples in the realm of pathology. 57* Will: I regard as will that sum of psychic energy which is disposable to consciousness. In accordance with DEFINITIONS 617 this conception, the process of the will would be an energic process that is released by conscious motivation. A psychic process, therefore, which is conditioned by unconscious motivation I would not include under the concept of the will. Will is a psychological phenomenon that owes its existence to culture and moral education, and is, therefore Largely lacking in the primitive mentality. CONCLUSION iBi our age, which has witnessed the 'libert, fraternit^' achieved by the French Revolution extending into a wide social movement, that not only pulls down or exalts political rights to a general and uniform level but thinks it is able to do away with unhappiness by means of external regulations and social levelling in such an age it is indeed a thankless task to speak of the complete dissimilarity of the elements which compose the nation. Although it is certainly a fine thing that every man should stand equal before the law, that every man should have his political vote, and that no man through inherited social position and privilege should unjustly over-reach his brother, nevertheless it is distinctly less beautiful when the notion of equality is extended to other provinces of life. A man must needs have a very clouded vision or must regard human society from a very misty distance, to cherish the view that a uniform distribution of happiness can be won through a uniform regulation of life. Such a man must already be somewhat deluded if he can really cling to the notion, for instance, that the same amount of income, or the same external opportunities of life, must possess approximately the same significance for all. But what would such a legislator do with all those for whom life's greatest possibility lies not without, but within? Were he just, he would have to give at least twice as much to one man as to another, since to the one it means much, to the other little. This difficulty of the psychological differences of men, this most necessary factor in providing the vital energy of a human society no social legislation will sur- 618 CONCLUSION 619 mount It may well serve a useful purpose, therefore, to speak of the heterogeneity of men. These differences involve such different claims to happiness that even the most consummate legislation could never give them approximate satisfaction. No general external form could be devised, however equitable and just it might appear, that would not involve injustice for one or other human type. That, in spite of this fact, every kind of enthusiast political, social, philosophical and religious is at work endeavouring to find those general and uniform external conditions which shall signify a more general opportunity for happi- ness, seems to me to be linked up with a general attitude to life too exclusively orientated by external facts. It is not possible to do more than touch upon this far-reaching question here, since it is not the province of this work to handle such a task. We are here concerned only with the psychological problem ; and the fact of the different typical attitudes is a problem of the first order, not only for psychology but also for all those departments of science and life in which human psychology plays a decisive rdle. It is, for instance, an immediately intelligible fact to an ordinary human intelligence that every philosophy, that is not just a mere history of philosophy, depends upon a personal psychological pre-condition. This pre-condition may be of a purely individual nature, and moreover would ordinarily be so regarded, if a true psychological criticism existed at all. Because it has always been taken for granted, we have thereby overlooked the fact that what we regarded- as individual prejudice was certainly not so under all circumstances; since the standpoint of the philosopher in question often boasted a very imposing following. His standpoint was acceptable to these men not because they echoed him without thinking, but because it was something they could fully understand and appreciate. Such an under- standing would be quite impossible if the standpoint of the 620 CONCLUSION philosopher were merely individually determined, for it is quite certain in that case that he would neither be fully understood nor even tolerated. The peculiar character of the standpoint which is understood and appreciated by his following must, therefore, correspond with a typical personal attitude, which in the same or similar form finds many representatives in human society. As a rule, the partisans of either side attack each other merely externally, always seeking out the joints in their opponent's individual armour. Such a dispute, as a rule, bears little fruit. It would be of considerably greater value if the contest were transferred to the psychological realm, whence it actually originates. Such a transposition would soon reveal the fact that many different kinds of psychological attitudes exist, each of which has a right to existence, although necessarily leading to the setting up of incompatible theories. As long as one tries to settle the dispute by forms of external compromise, one merely satisfies the modest claims of shallow minds that have never yet glowed with the passion of a principle. But a real understanding can, in my view, be reached only when the inherent diversity of the psychological pre-conditions is recognised. It is a fact, which is constantly and overwhelmingly apparent in one's practical work, that a man is well-nigh incapable of comprehending and giving full sanction to any other standpoint than his own. In smaller things a pre- vailing superficiality, a none too frequent indulgence and tolerance, and an equally rare goodwill, may help to build a bridge over the chasm which lack of understanding makes between man and man. But, in more important matters and especially those wherein the ideal of the type is in question, an understanding seems, as a rule, to be beyond the limits of possibility. Strife and misunderstanding are, assuredly, constant requisites for the tragi-comedy of human life, but it is none the less undeniable that the advance of CONCLUSION 621 civilization has led from the right of the strongest to the establishment of laws, and therewith to the creation of a court of justice and a standard of rights which are super- ordinated above the contending parties. It is my conviction that a basis for the adjustment of conflicting views could be found in the recognition of types of attitude, not however of the mere existence of such types but also of the fact that every man is so imprisoned in his type that he is simply incapable of a complete under- standing of another standpoint, Without a recognition of this far-reaching demand a violation of the other's stand- point is practically inevitable. Just as parties in dispute forgathering before the law refrain from direct violence, and confide their mutual claims to the justice of the la\\ and the impartiality of the judge, so each type, conscious of his own predilection, must abstain from casting indignities, suspicions, and depreciatory valuations upon his opposing type. Through a consideration of the problem of typical attitudes, and the presentation of it in a certain form and outline, I aspire to guide my readers to a contemplation of this picture of the manifold possibilities of viewing life, in the hope that in so doing I may contribute a small share to the knowledge of the almost infinite variations and grada- tions of individual psychology. No one, I trust, will draw the conclusion from my description of the types that I believe the four or eight types which I describe to be the only ones that might ever occur. That would be a grave misconception, for I have no sort of doubt that the various attitudes one meets with can also be considered and classified from other points of view. Indeed, this actual investigation contains not a few indications of such other possibilities, as, for instance, a division accord- ing to the factor of activity. But, whatever may serve as a criterion for the establishment of types, a comparison of various forms of habitual attitudes will invariably 629 CONCLUSION lead to the setting up of an equal number of psychological types. However easy it may be to regard the various existing attitudes from angles other than the one here adopted, it would certainly be difficult to adduce evidence against the existence of psychological types. I have no doubt at all that my opponents will be at some pains to eliminate the question of types from the scientific agenda, since, for every theory of complex psychic processes that makes any pretence to general validity, the type-problem must, to say the least, be a very unwelcome obstacle. Following the analogy of every natural science theory, which also pre- supposes one and the same fundamental nature, every theory of complex psychic processes presupposes a uniform human psychology. But in the case of psychology there is the peculiar condition that, in the making of its concepts, the psychic process is not merely the object but at the same time also the subject If, therefore, one assumes, that in every individual case the subject is one and the same, it can also be assumed that the subjective process of the making of concepts is also invariably one and the same. That this is not so, however, is most impressively demonstrated by the very existence of the most diverse views upon the nature of complex psychic processes. Naturally, a new theory is prone to assume that all other views have been wrong, and, as a rule, this is solely due to the fact that the author has a different subjective view from that of his predecessors. He does not reflect that the psychology he sees is Ms psychology, and, in the best case, the psychology of his type. He, therefore, supposes that there can only be one true interpretation of the psychic process which is the object of his investigation, namely that which agrees with his type. All the other views I might almost say all the seven other views which, after their kind, are just as true as his, are for him merely errors. In CONCLUSION 623 the interest of the validity of his own theory, therefore, he will feel a lively and humanly understandable repugnance to the establishment of types of human psychology, since therewith his conception loses, for instance, seven-eighths of its value as truth. For then, besides his own theory, he would have to regard seven other theories of the same process as equally true, or grant to at least a second theory a value equal to his own. I am quite convinced that a Nature-process which is largely independent of human psychology, and therefore can only be an object for it, can have but one true ex- planation. But I am equally convinced that a complex psychic process which cannot be subjected to any objective registering apparatus can necessarily only uphold that explanation which, as subject, it itself produces, i.e. the author of the concept can produce only such a concept as corresponds with the psychic process he is endeavouring to explain. But the concept can correspond only when it coincides with the process to be explained in the thinking subject himself. If the process to be explained had neither any sort of existence in the author himself nor any analogy to it, he would be faced by a complete enigma, whose explanation he would have to leave to the man who himself experienced the process. How a vision comes about, I can never bring into experience by any objective apparatus ; thus I can explain its origin only as I under- stand it. In this * as I understand it', however, there lies the predilection, for at best my explanation proceeds from the way the process of a vision is presented to myself. But who gives me the right to assume that in everyone else the process of the vision has an identical, or even a similar, presentation ? With apparent justice, one will instance the universal homogeneity of human psychology in every age and clime as an argument in favour of this universality of the 624 CONCLUSION subjectively conditioned judgment I am myself so profoundly convinced of this homogeneity of the human psyche that I have actually embraced it in the concept of the collective unconscious, as a universal and homogeneous substratum whose homogeneity extends even into a world- wide identity or similarity of myths and fairy-tales ; so that a negro of the Southern States of America dreams in the motives of Grecian mythology, and a Swiss grocer's apprentice repeats in his psychosis, the vision of an Egyptian Gnostic. From this fundamental uniformity, however, an equally great dissimilarity of the conscious psyche stands out in all the bolder relief. What immeasurable distances lie between the consciousness of a primitive, a Themistoclean Athenian, and a modern European! What a difference between the consciousness of the learned professor and that of his spouse 1 ! What, in any case, would our world of to-day be like if there existed a uniformity of con- sciousness? No, the notion of a uniformity of the conscious psyche is an academic chimera, doubtless simplifying the task of a University lecturer when facing his pupils, but shrinking to nothing in the face of reality. Quite apart from the diversity of the individual whose innermost nature is sundered from his neighbour by stellar distances, thfe types, as classes of individuals, are them- selves to a very large extent different one from another, and to the existence of types the diversities of general conceptions must be ascribed. In order to discover the uniformity of the human psyche I must descend into the very foundations of consciousness. Only there do I find wherein all are alike. When I found a theory upon that which connects all, I explain the psyche from what is its foundation and origin. But, in so doing, my explanation entirely omits that factor which consists in its historical or individual differentiation. CONCLUSION With such a theory, I ignore the psychology of the conscious psyche. Therewith I actually deny the whole other side of the psyche, namely, its differentiation from the primordial germinal state. I practically reduce man to his phylogenetic prototype, or I disintegrate him into his elementary processes ; and, when I would reconstruct him out of this reduction, in the former case an ape would emerge, and in the latter an accumulation of elementary processes whose interplay would merely yield an aimless and meaningless reciprocal activity. Doubtless the explanation of the psychic phenomenon upon the basis of homogeneity is not only possible, but also completely justified. But if I wish to develop the picture of the psyche in its completeness, I must keep in mind the fact of the diversity of psyches, since the conscious individual psyche belongs just as much to the general picture of psychology as does its unconscious foundation. Hence, in my construction of concepts, I am equally justified in starting out from the fact of differ- entiated psyches, and in considering the same process which I previously considered from the angle of its uniformity, although ribw from the standpoint of differ* entiation. This naturally leads me to a view that is radically opposed to the former one. Everything which in that view was left out of account as an individual variant here becomes important as a starting-point for further differentiations; and everything which there contained a special value as homogenous now appears to me worthless, because merely collective. In this view I shall always be on the look-out for the objective aimed at, and never for the source whence things come; whereas in the former view I never troubled myself about the goal, but merely about the origin. I can, therefore, explain one and the same psychic process by two antagonistic and mutually exclusive theories, concerning neither of which am I in 3 x 626 CONCLUSION position to maintain that it is wrong, since the tightness of the one is proved by the uniformity of the psyche, while the truth of the other is manifested by its dissimilarity. But here, both for the lay public and for the scientific world, begins that immense difficulty, which the perusal of my earlier book (Psychology of the Unconscious) so aggravated, that, on account of it, many otherwise able minds became utterly confounded (as witnessed by their precarious criticisms). For there I attempted to present in concrete material the one view just as much as the other. But since reality, as we all know, neither consists in nor adheres to theories, there is in both these views, which we .are bound to regard as severed, a common living something which, shimmering multi-coloured in the soul, combines and sanctions both. Each is a product of the past and carries a future meaning, and of neither can it be ascertained with certainty whether it be merely the end or holds as well a new beginning. For everyone who thinks there exists but one true explanation of a psychic process, this vitality of the psychic content, which neces- sitates two opposite theories, is* a matter for despair, especially if he should be a lover of simple and uncom- plicated truths, incapable maybe of thinking both at the same time. On the other hand, I am not convinced that, with these two ways of regarding the psyche, the reductive and the constructive as I once called them 1 , the possibilities are exhausted. On the contrary, I believe that other equally 'true' explanations of the psychic process can still be advanced, just as many in fact as there are types. More- over, such explanations will agree just as well, or just as ill, with one another as the types themselves in their personal relations. Should, therefore, the existence of i Jung, Contents of the Psychoses (Collected Papers}. CONCLUSION 627 typical differences of human psyches be granted, and I confess I can see no reason why it should not be granted, the scientific theorist is confronted with the disagreeable dilemma of either, allowing severally mutually contra- dictory theories of the same process to exist side by side, or of making an attempt that is doomed from the outset to found a sect which claims for itself the only correct method and the only true theory. The former possibility encounters not only the above-mentioned extraordinary difficulty of a Duplicated and inherently antagonistic thought operation, but also collides with one of the first principles of intellectual morality : ' principia explicandi non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem'. The necessity of a plurality of explanations, however, in the case of a psychological theory is definitely granted, since, unlike any other natural science theory, the object of psychological explanation is of like nature with the subject : one psycho- logical process has to explain another. This serious difficulty has already driven thinking minds to remarkable subterfuges, as, for instance, the assumption of an * objective mind' which could stand outside psychology and, hence, be able to regard objectively its own psyche ; or the similar assumption, that the intellect is a faculty which can also stand outside itself and regard itself. With these and similar expedients that Archimedean, extra-terrestrial point is to be created by means of which thp intellect shall raise itself from its own hinges. I can understand the profound human need for comfort and ease, but I do not understand why truth should bend to this need. I also understand that, aesthetically, it would be far more satisfactory if, instead of the paradox of mutually contra- dictory explanations, we could reduce the psychic process to the simplest possible, instinctive foundation, and be at rest, or if we could credit it with a metaphysical goal of redemption, and find peace in that hope. 628 CONCLUSION But whatever we strive to fathom with our intellect will end in paradox and relativity, if, indeed, it be honest work and not a mere petitio principii in the service of comfort and convenience. That intellectual apprehension of the psychic process must lead to paradox and relativity is simply unavoidable, for the reason that the intellect is only one among divers psychic functions which Nature intends to serve man in the construction of his objective images. We should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling. Therefore the judgment of the intellect is, at best, only the half of truth, and must, if it be honest, also come to an understanding of its inadequacy. To deny the existence of types is of little use in face of the fact of their existence. In view of their existence, therefore, every theory of the psychic processes must submit to be valued in its turn as a psychic process, and, moreover, as the expression of an existing and recognized type of human psychology. Only from such typical presentations can the materials be gathered whose co- operation shall bring about the possibility of a higher synthesis. INDEX A priori categories of thought : 377, 380 conditions of apprehension: 378 idea : 378, 379, 380, 385 ' AoMSsement du mveau mental* ' ; 156, 250, 566 Abegg, Dr, of Zurich : 244 Abelard : 54, 62, 83, 398 Abstract thinking : 376, 377, 379, 380 thoughts and feelings : 521 Abstracting attitude of oriental religious and art-forms : 364, 365 Abstraction : 64, 339, 340, 342, 358, 520 as introverted attitude : 362, 363. 3^5. 368, 369 M attitude of (Worringer) : 361, 363, 3^6, 367 definition of : 520 function of : 366, 367, 368 impulse to : 361 Abstractionist and concrete think- ing (Flournoy) : 375, 376, 377 Acceptance of evil : 234 Accommodation not true adapta- tion: 4x8 Action extraverted : 418 Activation of unconscious images : 292, 293, 2941 296, 300, 301 ' Active nature ' of Jordan : 185, 188 Active thinking as rational : 611 Activity, factor of in Jordan's descriptions : 185, 188, 195, 206 Acts of the Apostles (vision of St Peter) : 579, 580 Adaptation, the observance of uni- versal laws : 419 Adjustment of extravert, his limita- tion: 419 Adler, psychology of: 309,454,478, 53L 532, 536. 585 Adler's 'fictitious guiding line 1 : r's interpretation of phantasy : 78-82 ^Esthetic animation ( Jodl) : 359 devotion, 156 ' disposition ' of Schiller : 148, 153, *54. **o. 161. 575 Esthetic estimation of the problem by Nietzsche: 177 sensational attitude : 587 standpoint : 177, 181 types as opposed to rational : 181 Esthetics, problem of typical atti- tudes in: 358 ^Esthetism : 152, 170, 176 Affect, definition of : 522, 544 Affect-explosion occasioned by fail- ure of adaptation : 597 Affective fluctuations : 244 Affective-sensation : 544 Affectivity as Jordan's character criterion : 187, 189, 194 criterion of (Ostwald) : 404 definition of : 523 Affects as instinctive processes : 565 pronounced, regarded as sen- sations : 523, 586 Age of enlightenment: 101,230,381 Agni : 251, 252, 258, 259, 260 Agoraphobia, spiritual : 361 Ahasueras, the wandering Jew : 331 Allegoric interpretation : 601 Ambitendency : 525, 539 Ambivalency : 525, 539 Ambrosius, St : 286, 287 Amfortas : 269, 270 Amor et visio Dei : 25 Anagogic significance of Silberer: 537 Analogy, primitive thinking on the level of : 534 Analytical therapy, aim of : 533 Ananda or bliss : 150, 308 ' Angel abroad and devil at home ' : 5.89 Anima as inner attitude or soul: 593-596 or soul : 273, 524, 593-596 (soul), definition of : 588, 593 Animus of woman : 595 Anquetil du Perron : 152 Anselm of Canterbury : 54 Anthony, St, biography 01 : 72 Antinomians :. 26 Antiphon of Rhamnus : 40 Antisthenes : 38, 45, 47, 50 Antithetic sect of Gnostics : 26, 312 Anton, 531 6 3 o INDEX Apollo as image of principii indi- viduationis: 173 Apollonian attitude : 180 Apollonian-Diony^ian antithesis of Nietzsche : 172 Apperception, active, impossible without attitude : 526 as bridge : 527 definition of : 524, 525 passive and active : 376, 385, subject to subjective influ- ences: 600 typical differences of : 472 unconscious : 615 Approfondissement, introvert's ten- dency to: 347, 349 o Aquinas, Thomas : 58 Archaic function-ways : 370 Archaism, definition of i 524 Archetype . an, 296, 378, 380, 390, 392, 395, 476, 482, 507, 508, 555 as inherited foundation of psyche : 507 as instinctive apprehension : as law-determined course : 508 M as pooled experience of or- ganic existence : 507 M as primordial image : 476 as symbolical formula : 476 influence of upon objects : 476 of woman : 277 the nounxenon of tho image : 508 Archimedean point : 627 Archontici : 26 Aristotle : 53 Anus, heresy of : 30 Arjuna : 243 Artist as creator and educator: 580 Aryaman. 260 Asses feast in Zarathustra : 229 Assimilation : 393, 422, 449 as process of apperception: dtion of : 525 ,, to object : 422, 423, 525 Association fear (Gross) : 343 Association Studies (Jung) : 518 Associative thinking as mere pre- sentation : 611 Astarte, daughter of Behemoth . 333 Astral and lunar myths : 241 Athanasius, Archbishop of Alex- andria: 73 Atharvaveda : 246, 247, 248, 249 259 Atlantis : 445 Atman, or Self : 149* 244, 246, 247, 302 Attention, a secondary psychic extraverted : 4^7 in relation to attitude : 528 Attitude, as conscious function : 271 as expectation or state of readiness : 527 definition of : 526 determining efficacy of prim- ordial image : 558 duality of, a normal pheno- menon : 528 habitual as function-complex : 593 historical changes of : 229, 230 inner and outer : 591, 592 inner and outer, as function- complexes : 592 of unconscious : 422 symbolical: 604 the basis of intensity of primary function : 355, 356 types : 529, 530 underlying sexuality and power, 271, 529 Attitudes, conscious and uncon- scious: 527 general basic : 186, 198, 528, 529, 612 typical, formation of . 529, 53 Auch Einer (Vischer) : 369, 480 Audition colorifo : 525, 539 Augustine, St : 32, 286, 288 Auto-erotic : 472 ' Automatismes ', psychic (Janet) 574 Automatized processes : 566 Auxiliary construction (Adler) : 531 Avenarius : 566 Aram: 588 Baldwin : 382, 543 Barbarian's danger of one-sided- ness : 256 Barbarism : 128, 136, 140, 175, 255, 264, 331 Barlach's Der tote Tag : 321, 325 Basic functions : 14, 421, 428, 567, 612 instincts, Schiller on the two : 123 INDEX 631 Basic Psych. Functions, peculiari- ties of in extroverted atti- tude : 428 et seq. Psych. Functions, peculiari- ties of in introverted atti- tude : 480 et seq. Bataks, Religion of the : 304 Beauty as religious ideal with Schiller: 153 Bee, working, sexual deprivation of: 296 Behemoth and his host : 228, 3x9, 325, 333, 334, 335 and Leviathan as the two monsters of God : 333, 335 pact with : 229, 334 Bergaigne on Rita-concept : 258 Bergson : 398, 400, 568 Bernhard, St, prayer of : 273 Berserker rage : 256, 278 Bhagavadgita : 243, 244 Binswanger : 523 Biography, type-problem in : 401 Biological precursor of types : 414 Bird, as symbol of Epimethean realm: 335 Birth of deliverer equivalent to great catastrophe : 328 "Birth of Tragedy" by Nietzsche: 170, 177, 182 Blake, William : 308, 336, 414 Blessedness, origin and nature of : 308, 3" Bleuler: 143, 522, 5*3, 5*5, 539, 615 Blonde beast, cult of : 318 Bodhisattva : 221 Bodhi-tree, the chosen : 222 Borborites : 26 Boring in the worship of Agni : 259 Bostonian tourists (James) : 391 Brahma : 244, 247 Brahman as cosmic life-principle : 248, 249, 251 as Creator of the world : 245, 247, 254 as Eternal Truth : 247 as Gracious One (Vena) : 247 as life-force : 249, 251 as process, or irrational factor : 246 as state of redemption : 245, 246, 247 as sun : 247, 248 attainment of : 150, 151, 243, 244 corresponding with Tao : 26$ Brahman essence as psychological state : 248, 249 identified with Rita : 257, 259 meaning of the word : 249 two great monsters of : 254 Rra.h n>an- Atnf> an teaching : I49t ^ 150, 151, 242, 245 Brahmanic conception of problem of Opposites : 242 et seq. Brahmaiis, sacred caste of : 249 ' Brain-mythology ' : 353, 380 Brain, newly-born, an ancient in- strument : 378 ' Breaking through ' of Eckehart : ?i4, 315 Rrt h *Mlaranyaka-T7p^Tniishad : 245 246, 248 Buddha and Mara (symbol-forming process) : 610 birth of : 221, 222, 320, 331 fire-sermon of : 364, 366 Buddhism : 242, 272, 306 Budge, Sir Wallis : 290 Burckhardt, Jakob : 476, 555 . Bushman and his boy, episode of: 295 Caelestius: 33 Capacity for deviation : 339 atapatha-Brahmanam : 251, 252, 253. 258 Catholic authorities : 287 Church and Luther : 84, 85 Causal investigation of latent mean- J*! : ? 7 ?' A 7 , 8 ' 579 ^ standpoint taken over from natural science : 579 thinking and empiricism : 393 Celtic mythology : 288 Chalcedon, council of : 30 ' Character as seen in Body and Parentage ' by Jordan : 184 social and domestic : 589 -splitting in normal indivi- dual : 589, 590 Child as redeeming symbol: 266, 323 Tao as spiritual state of : 266 -education, our belief in method: 512 Childhood-complex : 157, 308 Childhood's phantasies : 321 Childlike attitude : 323 state : 309, 323 Chinese religion : 242, 264, 268 Christ and Anti-Christ : 540 63* INDEX Christ and temptation of the Devil : 70 as bridegroom : 285 birth of : 320 -identification of Nietzsche: 54 2 Christ's understanding of His king- ship phantasy : 70 Christian asceticism : 255 attempt at solution : 234, 272 ideal as differentiated func- tion : 231, 232 passion-theme and fate of jewel : 331 principle of love : 151 process, meaning of : 27, 28 solution : 99 sphere and phantasy activity : 7 Christianity, traditional : 229, 236, 291, 292 Chthonic craving : 284 Chu-Hi school of China : 268 Church as bride : 285 schisms of Early : 283, 284, 293 symbol of in Hennas vision : 283, 293 Churinga rites of Australians : 366 Circulusvitiosus, neurotic : 371, 451 Civilization, advance of : 621 present state of : 352 Civilizing and. cultural (GrossT : 352 Civitas Dei of St Augustine Classic and Romantic (Ostwald) : 401, 406 type as introvert : 404 type (Ostwald), characters of : 402 Classical solution : 232 * Cogito ergo cogito ' of mystical thinking : 483 Cognition and necessity of subject : theory of : 42, 394 Cohen: 549 Collective attitude : 229 definition of : 530 psyche : 316, 318, 319, 33* unconscious : 236, 237, 240, 271, 3, 3i6, 319, 475. 47^, 480* 555. 616, 624 unconscious, definition of : 616 Colmar manuscript : 287 Compensation, definition of : 531 disturbed in neurotic state: 533 genius : 32 types Compensatory reaction of nncon scious : 421, 537 relation of unconscious to conscious : 422, 616 Complementary relation of soul to outer character: 594, 595, 596 sex-character of soul : 594 Complex with commanding value : 342 Complexes as ' possessions ' : 138 Compulsion as archaic symptom : 525 -neurosis of introverted in- tuitive type : 570 -neurosis of introverted sensa- tion type : 504 Concept, concrete : 522 developed from primordial image : 558 Concepts, general : 530 need for precision of : 519 Conceptual-intuition of Hegel : 399 Conceptualism : 63, 66, 398, 399 Conclusion : 618 Concrete thinking, weakness of: 376. 377. 379, 380 Concretism, definition of : 533 in science : 381 of thought and feeling, as archaic : 524, 534 Conscience of Epimetheus : 213, 222, 329 Conscious activity, selective : 532 inner life of introvert : 193 -unconscious antithesis, de- velopment of: 441 Consciousness deepened, as basis for deepening of individuality : n of : 535 shallow extensive and narrow intensive of Gross : 346 Consensus gentium : 57, 58, 519 Constructive, definition of : 536, 585 method: 83, 312, 313, 536, 537. 538 method, individualistic : 538 Consubstantiation : 84 Contractive effect (Gross) : 341 Co-operation of unconscious : 159 Cosmogonic myth, projection of: *5<>, 151 Counter-function, development of : 558. 56o Creation, positive, as solution oi conflict of opposites : 400 Creative phantasy : 155, 138, 144, 146, 148, 573, 578, 581 INDEX 633 Creative psychic activity : 573 state, the happy state : 311 Crank, the psychology of the : 508 Crihat, or sawansong : 253 Cripple Creek : 391 Criterion of extroverted thinking : 4 2 .5 Critique of Pure Reason (Kant) : 548, 559 Cross, interpretation of the : 601, 602 Cryptamnesia : 614 Cumont : 288 Cuvier as extraverted thinking type : 484 Cynics : 38, 39, 47 Cyrillian doctrine : 33 Daemon of Socrates : 182 Daemoniac possession : 256 Daemonic effect of soul : 225 Dante's Divina Commedia : 273, 299 Inferno : 236 quest of Beatrice : 299 Darwin as extraverted thinking type: 484 Davy, Humphry : 403, 404 De Came Christi : 21 Definitions : 518 et seq. Dementia Praecox, by Jung : 254 Demiurgos : 117 Demons, as irruptions from uncon- scious : 138, 139 Dependence upon object : 596, 597, 598 Depersonalization of feeling: 451, 452 De Somniis, of Synesius : 137 Dessoir: 585 Destiny : 262 Destructive character of uncon- scious archaism : 425, 426 Desubjectification of consciousness : Deus absconditus : 123, 313 Deussen's Allgenteine Gesch. d. Philos. : 243 et seq. interpretations : 245, 249, 253 Devotion : 156, 157 ' Devouring ' type of Blake : 336, 414 Diastole as used by Goethe: n, 179, 252, 263, 313 Diels : 542 ^ Differentiated affectivity of extra- vert : 198, 199 M feeling: 125 Differentiation as starting point: 625 definition of : 539 of function in civilized life: 94. 96 of instinct: 296 required to bring individuality to consciousness : 561 Diogenes : 39, 50 Dionysian choir : 173 expansion or diastole : 179 orgies: 174 satyr-feasts, as totem feasts : 176 Dionysius the Areopagite : 58 Dionysos : 172. 173, 176, 177 Diotima: 53 Directed function, identification with: 370 function, the nature of : 371, 570 Disciple, as incarnation of Brah- man : 248 Discrimination necessary between conscious man and his shadow: 203 the nature of consciousness : 142, 156 Dissimilation : 393, 394, 395, 525, 54, 55i, 582 Dissociation : 484, 574, 575 between ego and state of feeling : 450 incompatible with united indi- viduality : 575 of personality : 588, 590, 615 Divine birth as creation of new symbol : 235 birth as psychological fact: 314 birth as oft-renewing process (Eckehart) : 313 Divine children, the three : 335 Divine harlot : 234 Docetism : 19, 30, 31 Doctor lUuminatus : 542 Dogmatism governed by idea : 396 of extraverted intellectual standpoint : 440 versus Scepticism (James) : 396 Dream as ' guardian of sleep ' (Freud) : 537 law-determined principle of: 581 Dreams and conscious activity : 6x6 and inner attitude : 591 229, 334. 634 INDEX Dn Bois-Raymond : 402 Duplication of character : 588, 598 ' Durb Crfatrice ' : 246, 265, 398 Dvandva, or pair of opposites : 242 Dyophysitic formula : 30, 31, 33 Dynamis: 23, 173, 307, 311, 316, 318, 327. 328 Dynamistic conceptions of the East : 266 Ebbinghaus, on attitude : 526 Eberschweiler : 338 Ebionites : 30, 31 Ecclesia, figure of : 284 Across* I'infame : 230, 236 Education of man : 155, 156, 159 Ego and consciousness : 535, 536 Ego and its relations : 117 and Self : 475, 477, 540 and subject, relation of in introverted feeling : 495 basis of, always identical with itself : 450 defective relation of to object, in introverted attitude : 478 definition of : 540 development of : 475, 477 of introvert, its system of safeguards : 478 participation of in thesis and antithesis : 607, 608, 609 reservation of : 472 resoluteness of (symbol) : 609 1 Egocentric ' : 472, 474, 477, 495 Egocentricity of morbid introver- sion : 477, 488, 495, 498 Ego-complex : 540 EinftMuns : 358 EinsUHung, or attitude : 526 Alan vital: 398 Eleatic principle : 48 Elijah's ascent into Heaven, medie- val illustrations of : 288 Elpore : 224 Jimtte ou de I'Sducation, by Rous- seau : 104, 105 Emotion, definition of (t>. Affect) : 541 Empathy : 358 Empirical observation, limitations of : 570 tr thinking : 376, 385. 482 Empiricism and ideologism : 381* 38a, 383, 387 as pluralistic (James) : 373 prevalence of : 381 synonymous with sensational* ism (James) :. 373 Empiricist type (James) : 373 Empiricistic attitude : 393 Enantiodromia, definition of : 541 Enantiodromia of Heraclitns : 123, 228, 333, 541, 596 Encratitic sect of Gnostics : 26, 312 Energetics, laws of : no Energic psychic process : 581 Energic value of conscious contents : 143 Energy, concept of: 41, 250, 262, 535. 5^1 Energy, hypostasiring of : 250, 535, 57i Engrams or archetypes : 211, 296, Enkekalymmenos, the veiled-man fallacy : 44 Enlightenment, age of: 101, 230, 381 Enthusiasm in the two types : 407 Epimeleia : 224, 227 Epimethean attitude : 228, 229, 232, 234, 235, 323, 417, 419 quality of inferior function : valuation of symbol : 323 Epimetheus and statue of Heracles : 321 as extraverted attitude : 207, 222, 228, 419 compact of with Behemoth: 228 downfall of : 228, 235, 236 figure in Goethe's Pandora : 224, 225, 226 j of Goethe : 217, 223 Lorn of: 222 of : 333 relation of to world : 208,212. 213, 214, 419 reply to angel : 212, 222 seeks the jewel : 321 the shadow of Spitteler : 540 visit to sick Prometheus : 214, 219 Equilibrium, process of psychic : 426 Esoteric explanation of symbol : 602 'gsprit de Vescalw' quality ol inferior thinking : 442, 514 Esse in anima : 61, 68 ' Est ergo est ' of empiricist : 483 t Euclid of Megara .-48 Evangelical movement : 84 Eve ; 234 Excessively valued idea : 342 Exodus, Book of: 287 INDEX 635 Exoteric standpoint, symbol alive for : 602 Externalization, laws of ( Jodl) : 359 Extraversion, active and passive : i of : 542 value of : 198, 202 Extravert and introvert, attitude of vis-a-vis the object: 395, 405, 412 archaic thoughts of : 187 danger of : 420 normality of, its conditions : 419 specific psychology of: 203, 341, 404, 405 unconscious egoism of : 424 Extraverted attitude and problem of human relationships : 471 bias against introverted atti- tude : 472, 474, 476, 512 character of introvert's in- ferior functions : 489 ,, criticism : 197 feeling as creative factor : 447 feeling, when overstressed in favour of object : 447 ,, feeling- judgment as act of accommodation : 446 Feeling Type : 448 et seq. feeling type, feeling of an adapted function : 448 feeling type, love-choice of: 448 feeling type, thinking of : 351, 427 ., formula, disagreeable results of : 436-439 Intuitive Type : 464 ft seq. judgment as predicative : 442 ,, man of Jordan : 200, 214, 215 mentality, dangers of (Gross) : 352, 420 Sensation Type : 457 et seq. thinking as synthetic : 442 ., thinking, appearance of : 431, 432 .. thinking, concretistic : 377 .. thinking, objective criterion of : 428, 429, 431 thinking, peculiarities of : 428, 43i Thinking Type, description of : 434 et s#[. thinking tyjje, impersonal con- scious attitude of : 439 thinking type, the formula of : 435 Extraverted thinking type, uncon- scious sensitiveness of : 439 Type, general attitude of con- sciousness of : 416 Type, general description of : 416 woman of Jordan : 195 Eye as function-complex : 583 consciousness compared with : 532, 557 Falsification of type 'through tion : 213 Familial identity : 552 Fanaticism as over-compensated doubt : 441 Faraday : 403, 404 Fatalism : 373 Father and Mother divinities : 157 Father-transference : 598 Fathers of the Church : 285, 286, 288, 290, 296 Faust as example of dissociation : 255 as the Self of Goethe : 540 ' How differently this token works upon me ' : 605 prayer of, to Virgin Mother : 274 rejuvenation of, through pact with Devil : 610 solution of problem in : 233, 239* 240 , the medieval Prometheus : 232, 234 transformation of, as figured by Margaret, Helen, etc. ; 273 ' a kind < Feeling, a kind of judging : 544 a rational function : 545 abstract and concrete : 545 active, as directed function : 546 and affect : 544 and thinking, incompatibility of : 514 , , and thinking types as rational: 452 as process : 543 1 Feeling ', concept of : 519 criterion of acceptance or re- jection: 544 ,, definition of : 543 dependent upon thinking: distinguished from affect : 522 6 3 6 INDEX Feeling, disturbance of, from assimi- lation to object : 449 futility of classification : 546 inaccessible to intellectual de- finition : 545 in extraverted attitude : 446 necessarily represses thinking : 449, 45i Feeling-apperception, active and passive : 546 1 Feeling-into ' : 64, 156, 393, 567,582 M and abstraction : 358, 368, 369 as extraversion : 360, 36? definition of : 547 Feeling-intuition as undirected feel- ing : 546 , t of Schopenhauer : 399 Feeling-sensation or sensuous feel- ing: 119, 125, 127, 129, 180, 544 -tone as feeling mixed with sensation : 585 ,. -type : 547 Feri : 523 Ferencri : 566 Ferrero : 601 Fetish and churinga, recharging of : 240 power of : 302, 366, 534 Fichte : 54, 55 Fictitious guiding-line (Adler) : 369, 53i Fire-sermon of Buddha : 364, 366 Flatus vocis : 37, 59, 65 Flournoy (Des Indas A la plantto Mars) : 588, 614 una mystique modern* : 333 on James characters : 375 Forgetting, normal process of : 614 Form and name as two monsters or functions of Brahman : 254 Formative instinct of Schiller : 126, 129 Formula, an intellectual super- stition : 441 becomes a religion : 441 of extraverted thinking type : 435 ** seq. tyranny of in extraverted thinking type : 435 FOILS signatus : 280 France, Anatole : 37 Free-will : 373, 393, 395 Freedom, inner, impossibility of proof of : 394 Freedom of subject, conditions of : 295, 396 the feeling of : 395 French Revolution : 100, 103, 230, 6x8 school of hypnotists : 470 Frenzy, the Dionysian state : 172 Freud, incest-wish of : 424 his interpretation of phantasy: 78-82, 537, 572, 577. 585 on repression of parent-imago ; 157 psychology of: 78-82, 454. 537. 539, 584. 585, 598, 606, 614 reductive method of : 78, 312, 313, 536, 537. 538, 577. 578, 584 his view of symbol : 157 wish-view of, true for extra- vert's unconscious : 423, 424 Frobenius: 325 Function, conscious, nature of : 514 definition of : 547 main, nature of : 514 natural, an organized living system : 564 secondary, nature of : 515 subjection of, to sensation (concretism) : 535 Function-complex, independence of: ^ 59 3 Function-engrams : 211, 296, 556 Function-types : 412 Functions, basic : 14, 421, 428, 547, 567, 612 combinations of main and auxiliary : 515, 516 grouping of unconscious : 516 of relation, mind and speech as: 254 Principal and Auxiliary : 513 rational and irrational: 570, 57i superior and inferior : 87, 324, 370, 426, 427, 563 the four basic, selection based upon experience : 547 unconscious, their symbolical appearance in dreams : 5x7 Fundamental laws of human nature: 263 Galtonesque family-portraits, type- descriptions as : 513 Garden enclosed : 285, 286 INDEX 637 Gannilo : 55, 58 Gauss : 409, 410 Geheimmsse (Dig) of Goethe : 231, 234 General-attitude types : 412, 414 Genius, civilizing and cultural (Gross) : 352 German ' classics ' . 95 Gilgamesh epic : 256 Gnosis: 234, 256, 289, 290, 291, 292, 298, 299 Gnostic philosophy : 18, 234, 289, 290, 298 Gnostics and their Remains (King) : 289 God and soul essentially the same : 37 and Godhead, distinction be- tween (Eckehart) : 315 as autonomous complex : 307 as collective idea : 139, 530 as determining force : 310 as function of the soul : 315 as highest intensity of life: 307 as inner value : 304, 310 as psycho-dynamic state : 305 as psychological function of man : 300, 304, 310 as unconscious content : 306 as Universal Self of Toju's philosophy : 268 dynamic character of : 301 existence of, dependent upon soul (Eckehart) : 311, 315 growth of concept of : 318 in the Devil's shape : 334 individual relationship with : 299 orthodox view of : 301 psychological significance of : 222 t 300 relativity of : 300 et seq. sickness of : 219, 220 subjectification of : 318 God-image : 157, 158, 300 God-imago, source of : 301 God-likeness of introverted attitude towards the idea: 117, 120, 122, 123, 219 of Prometheus: 219, 220 God-renewal and seasonal pheno- mena : 241 symbol of : 240, 241, 320 Goethe and Dante : 298 Goethe and Schiller : 88, 102, 118, X2I Goethe's attempt at solution : 231* 272 Faust: 158, 170, 232, 233, 239, 240, 255, 267, 272, 273, 444 own type : 215 principle of systole and dia- stole : n, 179, 252, 313 Prometheus : 215, 217 Golden Age : 108 Gomperz, Greek Thinkers: 541 on inherency and predica- tion : 41, 45, 47, 48, 49 Graeco-Roman art, criterion of : 360 Grail, legend of : 269, 270, 290, 298 Grail-symbol, probably derived from Gnosis : 291, 298 Grecian and Christian cultures, com- parison of : 92 mythology in dreams of negroes : 356, 624 Greek Fathers : 285, 286, 296 mistrust of powers of Nature : 17? tragedy: 176 Gretchen episode compared with Pandora : 233, 234 Gross* hypothesis, summary of : 357 Otto : 337, 531 Grosse Manner, by Ostwald : 401 Guardians of the market-place: 330, Guillaume von Champeaux : 54 Hallucination : 554 Harking-back to the primitive : 302, 3i6 Harnack upon Origen : 24 Hartmann, E. von, philosophy of : 209, 585 Base's History o) the Church : 34 Hegel : 55, 60, 399, 549 Heine, on Plato and Aristotle : 9 -heit ' and ' -keit ' (Spitteler) : 212, 213, 226 Helen in Faust : 233, 234, 273 Hellenism : 91, 170 Helmholtz as teacher : 409 biography of : 402, 408 Hephaestus - Athene relationship : 218, 224 Heraclitus : 123, 541, 542 Herbart, on the reason : 383 Hennas: 275, 278, 280, 281, 282, 283 638 INDEX Hennas, vision of : 276, 281, 283, 293, 296 Hero, magical power of : 324 Hero-birth, primordial image of : 595 -myth of hero and whale : 325 Heterogeneity of men : 619, 625 Hieronymus, St : 289 Hiphil-Hophal, the high-priest : 329, 332 Historical factor, a vital need : 423 Hoffding: 543 Holderlin's Patmos : 326 Holstein-Augustenburg, Duke of, Schiller's fetters to : 87 Holy Communion controversy be- tween Luther and Zwingli : 84 Communion writing by Rad- bertus upon : 33 Homer as a naive poet : 164 Homogeneity of human psyche : 624 Homoiousia : 30 Homoousia : 30 Homosexuality, from projection of persona : 598 Human psychology, as opposed to Nature-process : 623 psychology, universal homo- geneity of : 623 Hylici : 18, 190 Hymn of the Epimethean priests : 321 to Mary, the medieval : 285, 288, 289 Hypatia : 137 Hysteria, the extravert's neurosis : 421, 452 Hysterical amnesia : 6x4 characters : 421 lakchos, winnowing basket of : 289 Idea, abstract, 376, 377, 389, 392, 394, 396, 522, 547, 55i as abstraction : 522 as primordial image at stage of intellectual formulation ; 558 as primum movens for intro- vert : 551 as product for extravert : 551 as unconscious model: 379, |8o, 386, 394, 395, 482 definition of : 547 dual nature of : 550 hierarchical character of : 396 related to image : 547 Ideas ante rent, 378 basic, as much feeling as thought : 181, 490 mystical collective : 530 Idealism or ideologism : 387, 389 versus Materialism (James) : 387, 388, 389, 390 Idealist and Realist, the, of Schiller : 168 Identification backward : 316 definition of : 551, 553 distinguished from imitation . leading to growth of secondary personality : 552 purpose of : 552 with differentiated function : 127, 128, 551, 552 with momentary attitude : 590 Identity, an unconscious equality with object : 553 definition of : 552 expressed in Christian ideal oi love : 553 . familial: 552 in paranoic delusions : 553 original state of: 294, 295, 553, $63* 572, 582 responsible for suggestion : the basis of 'participation mystique ' : 553 with persona : 595, 596, 597, 598 with soul : 596, 598 Ideologism : 381, 382, 387, 389, 394, 395 and materialism : 390 Image, an expression of total psychic situation : 555 definition of : 554 of tottering man pierced by arrow : 506 or imago of a man different from his reality : 600 personal and primordial : 555 personal or impersonal : 547 primordial: 149, 250, 265, 267, 269, 271, 172, 277, 378, 384, 476, 481, 490, 500, 548, 550, 555 Images, artistic, philosophical and religious application of : 3", 3" value of, for life and happi- ness : 312 Imagination : 82 INDEX 39 Imaginative activity : 573, 581 Imago of object : 600 Immanuel : 327 Imitatio Christi and dissimilation : 394 Imitation a necessary expedient for development : 551 Imprints or engrams : 556 Impulsion as instinct : 566 Indeterminism versus Determinism (Tames) : 393 Indian religious practice : 250 teaching : 149, 151, 153, 242, 263, 302 Individual as against collective : 561, 562, 590 definition of : 560 degeneration of 370 disposition, factor of : 415, 416 nucleus, separability of : 137, 139, 144 phantasy repressed by collec- tive symbol : 70 psychology, conditioned by contemporary history : 578 way can never be opposed to collective norm : 563 way, never a norm, 563 Individualism : 133, 272, 3x8, 563 Individuality, definition of : 561 ,. suppression of in concretism : 535 when unconscious projected upon objects : 561 Individuation as process of differ- entiation : 561 , definition of : 561 leads to collective solidarity, not isolation : 562 leads to appreciation of collec- tive norm : 563 not unique goal of psycholo- gical education : 562 Indra : 247 Infant adaptation : 415 Inferior extraversion : 129 ,. function, acceptance of: 99, xxo function, analytical release of : 565 function, definition of : 563 function hi extraverted atti- tude : 427, 428 Inferiority of feeling in extraverted thinking type : 438, 439 with contracted consciousness (Gross) : 341 Inferiority with shallow conscious- ness (Gross) : 341 Inferiority-feeling of Adler : 531 Influence of poets and thinkers : 238 Inherency, principle of : 41, 45, 47, 50 character of inferior thinking : Inherited functional disposition of the psyche : 377, 616 Inner objectelements of the un- conscious : 505 objects : 210, 591 personality opposed to outer 593 processes, individual varia- bility towards : 592 Inouye, Tetsujiro : 268, 269 Inquisition : 293 Instinct and will : 565 as inborn manner of acting : definition of : 565 Intellect, definition of : 566, 611 inadequacy of : 628 Intellectual formula, limitation of : 43.6, 437 intuition or undirected think- ing: 6n standpoint betrayed by re- pressed feeling : 440 Intellectualism versus Sensational- ism (James) : 387 Interest as libido bestowed : 521 extraverted : 417, 418 Intermediate type of Jordan : 184, 190, 191 Interpretation, causal and purpo- sive : 578, 580 or latent meaning of phantasy: 576 upon objective plane : 572 upon subjective plane : 572, 599 rf *g. Introjection, active 567 and passive : an extroverting process : 567 as feeling-into : 547, 553, 583 as process of assimilation : 567 Introversion active and passive : 567 and extraversion as biological contrast : 4x4 and extraversion, not char- acters but mechanisms : 354 definition of : 567 into unconscious : 147, 149, W X 5 6 3<>9 640 INDEX Introversion of energy into the Self : Introverted thinking, new views the 145, 147, 149, 304, 309 concern of: 481 state of : 180 Thinking Type, description Introvert and extravert, compari- of : 484 et seq. son of : 199, 202, 205, 404, Type, general attitude of 405, 406, 483 consciousness : 471 general character of: 485, Type, general description of : 486, 487 471 et seq. growing isolation of: 489, woman of Jordan : 191 504 Introvert's and extravert's relative need of, in present day activity : 410 culture : 352 apparent egocentricity : 477 values of : 193, 203 archaic affects : 187 Introverted and extraverted manner emotional life : 193, 194 of thinking, opposition of : greater synthetic capacity. 386, 483 348, 489 and extraverted view of ideal a lonely island : 480 general concepts : 385, 386 attitude governed by psycho- logical structure : 475 lack of personal relations: 406, 407, 478 lack of practical ability : 486 character of extravert's un- negative relation to object: conscious : 422 485* 5" difficulty of expression : 501 feeling counterbalanced by power psychology : 395 primitive relation to object: primitive thinking : 491 479, 485. 488 feeling falsified by egocentric psychology, unconscious atta. attitude : 491 feeling intensive rather than tude of : 477 et seq. tendency to relativism : 349 extensive : 493 undervaluation of his own feeling, peculiarity of : 206 principle : 498 feeling, tendency to over- unfavourable personal impres- power or coerce object : 494 sion : 409 Feeling Type : 492 et seq. intellectual, feelings of : 350 Intuition an attitude of expecta- tion : 461 intuitive, from extraverted an instinctive apprehension : standpoint: 507 568 intuitive, nature of : 505,506, an irrational perceptive func- 507 tion : 568 Intuitive Type as seer or and sensation maternal soil of artist : 508, 509 rational functions : 568 Intuitive Type, general de- compared with sensation in scription of: 508 introverted attitude : man of Jordan : 144 compensating function to sen- mentality: 351, 357, 405, sation : 568 406, 480 concrete and abstract : 568 posture of fear towards the object : 362, 479, 480, 485 Sensation Type, description definition of : 567 element of : 168, 461 in extraverted attitude : 461 of : 500 et seq. et seq. Sensation Type, inaccessible in introverted attitude : 505 to objective understanding : " m /**J et seq. 503 thinking : 384, 385, 429, 430, repressed in sensation type: 457. 4^0 431, 480 ., thinking dependent upon arch- ,, seeks to discover possibilities : 463, 464, 465 aic image : 482 thinking, facts of secondary subjective and objective : 568 Intuitive and sensation types, simi- importance for : 481 larity of unconscious in : 466 INDEX 641 Intuitive attitude : 388 cognition possesses character of certainty : 568 discernment as shown by Jordan : 189 mentality of primitive : 191 method of Bergson : 398 method of Nietzsche : 399 Intuitive Type : 181, 191, 569 thinking aad feel- ing as inferior functions in: 465 Inundation from the unconscious, danger of : 326, 328, 334 Invasion of evil : 235 Irrational, definition of : 569 nature of elementary facts: 5?o Irrational Types : 468 not unreasonable but empirical: 468 overtaken by rational judg- ments : 469 Isaiah : 113, 322, 323, 324, 325, 327, 328 Isis and Osiris : 289, 290 Islands of the Blessed : 55 James himself an ideologist : 390 Types, general criticism of : 397 Types, characteristic pairs of Opposites in : 382 William, on the types : 372 et seq. James-Lang theory of affect : 523 Janet : 156, 566, 574 Janus-faced psychological moment : Jehovah : 285, 333 transformation of : 320 Jeremiah : 71 Jerusalem, on the reason : 383 Jesus and Satan (symbol-forming process) : 6xo Jew, the wandering : 331 Jewel, fate of : 331 nature of in Spitteler's work : 320, 329 redeeming nature of: 329, 33* 33* Jews, medieval persecution of : 331 the, as symbol of repressed elements: 331 Job, Book of : 333 Jodl : 359 Jordan, as possible introvert : 205 Jordan's description of types : 184, 214, 215, 4<>4 impassioned type compared with Gross* sejunctive type : 346 types, special description and criticism of : 191 Julian the Apostate's discourse upon King Helios : 99 Julian s discourse upon Mother of the Gods : 17 Juno Ludovisi : 156, 158 Kant : 57, 58, 152, 377, 383, 390, 395, 44. 508, 522, 548, 559 as introverted thinking type : 484 on nature of the idea : 548 on reason, an introverted view : 384 Kant's postulate of God, freedom, and immortality : 395 Keratines, the horned-one' fal- lacy: 44 King, on Gnostic symbolism : 289 Kingdom of Heaven : 266, 305, 309, 310 Klingsor : 269 Kohler: 289 Kore of the mysteries : 288 Krishna : 243 Kubin : 483 Kule, in Barlach's Der tote Tag: Kulluka: 242 Kiilpe : 526, 543 Kundry : 269, KweiofTao: Lalitavistara : 221 Lamb, Epimetheus' raging against the : 229. 236 Landmann : 588 Lao-Tse : 83, 149, 151, 264, 26$ Lasswitz: 549 Lateran Council : 84 Lehmann : 543 Less-impassioned type of Jordan: 185, 188, 341 'Levelling of ideas' (Wernicke): Leviathan : 325, 333 L6vy-Bruhl : 106, 165, 365, 530, 574 6 4 a INDEX Libido as psychic energy, not psychic force : 571 definition of : 571 detachment of, from object : 304 detachment of, from both sides : 147, 149 splitting of : 29, 256 Libido-concept: 262 and Brahman-con- cept: 249 -symbols : 246, 250 Liebig: 403. 404 Likes and dislikes : 529, 543, 544 \LKVOV: 289 Lipps : 358, 360, 382, 525, 535 Literary figures, representing func- tion-complexes ox author : 601 Living form, Schiller's symbol of : 134. 145, 158. 267, 330 symbol: 605 Logos : 54* *3 *S* Loretto, Litany of : 274, 283, 284, 285, 292, 290 ' Lost art thou when thou thinkest of dancer ' (Nietzsche) : 352 Lotus of Bodhisattva : 221 Lotze * 55 Lolly, Raymond, conversion of : 542 Luther : 84 Macbeth : 322 Maeder's prospective function : 536 Magic cauldron of Dagda : 288 Magical powers ana the older nationalities : 233 Magna Mater : 290 Mahabharata : 243, 244 Maher-shalal-hash-baz : 327 Man as mere function : 94 Manas as form : 254 as psychological function of introversion : 253, 254, 256 as serpent-like nous : 256 or reason : 252, 253, 256 Manu, Book of : 242 Margaret in Faust : 273 Mananus. Doctor, in Faust : 274 Marriage of Heaven and Hell (Blake) : 414 Mary the divine harlot : 234 Mask or persona : 590 Mater Ghriosa : 234, 273 Materialism : 210 and idealism : 387, 389 as extraverted character : 389, 433 Materialistic and theosophical think- ing equally negative : 445 explanations as superstitious : 445 mentality: 433 Mathematical term as symbol : 603 Matter : 289 Maturity, relative, of the two types: 407 Maya : 221 Mayer, Robert : 403, 404 Measure and number, methods of : 5i8 Mechtild von Magdeburg : 285 Mediatory product, superiority of (symbol) : 609 Medieval Christianity : 176, 285 mysticism : 285, 299, 302 psychology, problem surviving from : 290 Megara : 39 Meearians: 38 Meister Eckehart: 152, 297, 299, 300. 303, 3<>4. 3<>5, 3"* 3i4 3*8, 334 Eckehart, on relativity of God: 303, 304, 305, 314, Eckehart on soul : 305 Meisterlieder, of Colmar MSS. : 287 Mephisto, personification of nega- tive thinking : 444 as archaic elements of Goethe : 540 Mephistopheles, interpretation of: the medieval Epimetheus : 232 Messiah or Mediator : 241 Messianic prophecies : 322 Messias in Spitteler myth : 335, 336 ' Metaphysical ' signifying ' uncon- scious .178 Method, constructive, as intuitive : 538 over-valuation of : 512, 513 reductive and synthetic : 83, 3, 313, 53$, 537* 577 57*. 584 Meyrink : 160, 483 Middle disposition of Schiller : 147 Mind and speech, question of pre- cedence : 253 Minerva as soul-figure of Prome- theus: 216, 217, 223 Miracle of Hellenic ' will ' Misautic (Weininger) : 47 Mithraic influence on art: 288 178 INDEX 643 Mitra : 251, 258, 260 Mneme (Semon) : 475, 556 Moleschott's dictum : 444, 535 Moltzer, Miss M. : 569 Monism as introverted attitude : 396 versus Pluralism (James) : 396 Monophysites : 30 Monsters, the two great, of Brah- man : 254, 256 Montanus : 22 Mood : 450, 543. 545 as feeling-valuation of con- scious situation : 543, 544 Moral problem for introverted in- tuitive : 509 Morality, extraverted : 4x8 More-impassioned type of Jordan : 185 Morton Prince : 588 Mosaic morality : 263 Moses' basket of rushes : 286 Mother-dragon, motif of : 325 -Earth as source of all Dower: 302 Mother of Cod in Divina Commedia : 273 of the Gods: 117 Mothers, heavenly, in Faust : 233 Mother-transference : 598 Mtihler and Schumann : 526 Mahler, Max : 248 Muratorian Canon : 275 Mysteries, Grecian : 174, 176, 288 Mystica Vannus Jacchi : 289 Mystical collective ideas (Levy- Bruhl) : 530 thinking of introvert : 483 Mysticism, German : 285, 299 Myth, West African : 267 Mythological world of introverted sensation type : 503 Myths as psychic product : 241, 6x5 astral and lunar ; 241 Nahlowsky on higher or ideal feelings : 521, 543 Naive and sentimental poetry in relation to typical mechan- isms : 265 attitude : 165 Naicai Toju, the Sage of Omi : 268 Napoleon : xox Narcissism (Freud) : Natalit solis invicii : Nartorp: 535 Natural b beauty as Western criterion of art : 360 Natural-science method, overvalua- tion of : 5x9 Naturalism, discussion of : 262, 263, 264 Nature and culture : 113 Nature-process, law-abiding regu- larity of and in : 581 Necessity for recognition of types of attitude : 62 x Negative character of dependent thinking i 443, 444 thinking, its destructive char- acter : 444, 452 thinking, personified as Mep- histo : 444 Negroes' dreams and motives of Grecian mythology : 556, 624 Nee-Platonic views : 117 Nestorian controversy : 33 Nestorius: 33 Neurasthenia as neurosis of intro- verted feeling type : 495 Neurosis, duality ox attitude in : 527 from suppression of infantile claims : 425 Nicolaitans : 26 Nietzsche : 37, 93, 122, 123, 161, *7 237, 261, 298, 352, 399, 400, 477, 484, 535, 542 and Schiller, artist nature in : 176 as introverted thinking type : 484 as advocate of power : 298 Nietzsche's 'Attempt at a Self- criticism' : 177 conception of Grecian char- acter : 170 intuitionism : 399 own type : 182 Nirdvandva : 242, 243, 244, 269 Nominalism and Realism : 37, 63, 65, 349, 374, 398 as extraversion : 374 Norm, collective : 562, 563 ' Nothing but ' style of thinking : 444, 452 Nous, of Gnosis : 256 Novuxn : 133 Nn or Nut : 289, 290 Obatala and Odudua : 267 Object-animation, as a priori pro- jection : 365 ,, -imago i ooo Object, dynamic animation of : 365 644 INDEX Object, influence of, upon thinking : 380 potency of, depends upon pro- jection of soul-image : 597 overvaluation of : 309 unconscious depotentiation of: 366 Objective catastrophe of extravert : 4 2 4 mind, assumption of : 627 plane, definition of : 572 values (rational) : 583 Objects, inner and outer : 210, 591 Observer, judging and perceptive : ^ as : 39 Olympian Spring, by Spitteler : 240, 599 Olympus, middle world of : 171, 174 One-sidedness, as gn of barbar- Opposition between sensation and thinking : 130 concept of : 250 Optimism versus P^SSIIT? ISTO (James) : 389 Optimum of life : 263 Oriental art, impulse of (Wor- ringer) : 364 Orientation, definition of : 572 Origen : 23, 38 Organic inferiority, of Adler : 531 Ostwald : 239, 401, 535 Other-world : 218, 222 Overvaluation of instruction by word and method : 512 Paganism : 230, 231, 23; Pagan influence on Christian sym- bolism : 288, 289, 290 thinking: 107 Pairs of Opposites, Brabmanic : 242 Pallas Athene : 218 Pandora, box of : 329 comparison of Goethe's with Spitteler's : 223 gift of, as symbol : 228, 319 interlude of Spitteler : 218, 219 jewel of : 220, 221, 222, 228, 319, 329, 33^ of Goethe : 223, 225, 226, 234 Pandu : 243 Parables of Christ : 309 Paradisiacal state : 308, 320 Paradiso of Dante : 273 Paradox and relativity, unavoidable end of intellectual effort : 628 Paramatman : 243 Parameshtin : 247 Paranoia : 553, 583 Parent-complex: 157 Parental influence, factor of : 415 Parsifal : 98, 239, 269, 270 as reconciler of the opposites : 269, 270 ' Participation mystique ' : 106, 120, 165, 279, 316, 365, 366, 524. 534, 553, 572 ' mystique ', definition of : 572 Paschasius Radbertus : 33 Passive thinking, as irrational : 611, 612 Patanjali : 243 Paul, St, and symbol of the Cross : 602 conversion of : 575, 577, 578 Paulhan : 213 Pelagian controversy : 32, 33 Pelagius: 33 Perseveration phenomena . 338 Persian religion : 174 Person, introvert's concern with his: 488 Persona: 208, 209, 210, 590, 592, 593, 594, 595 and soul, relation between : 594, 595, 596 as collective attitude : 590 as false self : 268 as function-complex : 591 as outer attitude or char- acter : 593 identification with : 595, 596, 597, 598 projection of : 598 represented in dreams : 596 Personal as opposed to individual : 590 unconscious : 615, 6x6 Personality : 406, 407 dissolved in feeling of the moment : 445 Personification of unconscious : 212, 306 significance of : 254 Pessimism of Schopenhauer : 170 Peter, St, vision of: 577, 580 Phallic symbols : 296 Phantasies as representations of energic transformations ; 262 M development of : 3x2 INDEX 645 Phantasm : 573, 581 Phantasy : 69, 75, 154, 312, 378, 554, 573-581 ,, active and passive : 574, 575 activity, common to all four functions : 547 as imaginative activity : 573, 58i as symptom or symbol : 580 creative, and individuality: definition of: 573 image : 554 latent meaning of not cer- tain : 576, 580 law-abiding principle in : 580, 581 ,, manifest and latent meaning of : 575, 57^, 578, 580 Phantasying not identical with passive thinking : 611 Philautic (Weininger) : 472, 474 Phileros : 227, 229 Philhellenitm : 231 Philosopher, and typical personal attitude : 619, 620 Philosophy, English : 398 German : 400 Modern, the Problem of Types in : 372 et seq. Physiological differences of indi- viduality (Gross) : 346 Pius, brother of Hennas : 278 Plaksa fig-tree : 221 Plato : 38, 40, 44, 45, 47, 5<>, 53, 216, 378, 548 Play, as dynamic principle of phantasy : 82 Play-instinct of Schiller : 134, 140, 146, 154 Pluralism as extraverted attitude : 396 Plurality of personalities in same individual : 588, 589 Plutarch : 40 Pneumatici : 18, 190 Poime*, or Th* Shepherd: 284, 293 Porphyrius : 23, 52 Positive quality of extraverted thinking : 442 Possession by demons : 278 Powell on primitive thinking : 42 Power and love as incompatibles : 298 Power-attitude : 572 -comolftx. defin ( anition of : 582 i of introvert : 478 Power-psychology, unconscious basis of : 477 Pragmatism (James) : 390, 397, 398, 400 a makeshift : 399, 400 Prajapati : 247, 248, 231, 252, 253, 259 Prana, or breath of life : 248 Pre-condition, psychological : 619, 620 Predication, principle of: 41, 45, 47,5<> Pregnancy of the soul : 595, 596 Primary function of Gross : 338 intensity of, due to attitude : 355 Primeval symbol represents future truth : 484 Primitive, and loss of soul : 278 idea of God : 301, 302, 304, 310, 316, 534 (suffix of the thing 365 r, reappearance of: $84 ,, thinking and feeling : 534 relation to object : 365 spirit, revival of : 230 Primordial image : 149, 250, 265, 267, 269, 271, 273, 277, 378, 384, 470", 481, 490, 500, 548, 550, 555. 556 image, a mnemic deposit : 556 image, a recapitulatory ex- pression of living-process: image, a self-living organism : 560 image as compensating factor: 272 image as idea and feeling: 490 image as psychic mirror world: 500 image, definition of : 556, 557 image expressing creative power of psyche : 557 image, expression of energic process : 560 image maternal soil of idea : 557 image, nature and function of: 272, 557 image necessary counterpart of instinct : 560 image reconciling idea with concrete feeling : 558 image, rftle of in introverted thinking : 481, 482 646 INDEX Primordial unconscious state : 553 Primum in tnundo fecit deus tim- 6^ explicandi ' : 56, 627 um individuationis, Apollo age of : 173 Principle, guiding, irrational nature of : 33, 324 Printer, case of the too-extra- verted: 424, 425 Problem of different typical atti- tudes : 619 Processes with and without sym- bolic meaning : 606 Procrustean bed : 121, 180 Projection, a process of dissimila- tion : 567, 582 a process of introversion : 583 ,, active, an act of judgment: of (vide Introjec- tion) : 566, 582 dependent upon identity : 553, 582 in paranoia : 583 of soul-image : 596, 597, 598 passive and active : 582 Projections, nature of: 294, 307, of intuitive type : 467 Proktophantasmists : 101 Proletarian philosophy : 50 1 Prolific ' and ' devouring ' classi- fication of Blake : 336 Prolific type of Blake : 336, 414 Promethean attitude: 228, 229, 298, 319 Prometheus as introverted atti- tude : 207, 216, 218, 227 comparison of Goethe's with Spitteler's: 215. 217, 218, 223 condition of, in unconscious : 2x9 figure of tradition : 216 fragment of Goethe : 216,218, 234 intervention of : 335 of Goethe as extravert : 226 relation to his soul : 208, 210, 214, 216, 2x7, 218 reply to angel : 207, 211 Prophets in Israel (introverted intuitive type) : 507 Prospective function of Maeder : 536 meaning of symbols : 536, 607, OTO Protagoras of Plato : 216 Protestantism: 84 Psalms: 283 Psychoasthenia, introvert's neurosis . 479, 484 Psyche and consciousness : 536, 557 and soul, distinction between : 588 creative factor of : 579 definition of : 588 independent collaboration of 556 itric view of Christ's psycho- 7 1 ttry, type problem in : 337 et sea. Psychic content as dynamic system : 581 inertia: 230 process, object as well as subject : 622 relation between the different types : 470 structure : 211 Psychici : 18, 190 Psycho-energic process : 521 -galvanic phenomena (Bins- wanger) : 523 Psychological differences of men : 6x8 types due to identification with superior function : 564 Psychology and methods of mea- sure : 518 larger conception of : 75 of the oppressed : 497 ' Psychology of the unconscious ', difficulty raised by : 626 Psychopathic states : 337 Ptah-tenen, hymn to : 290 Puer Aeternus : 336 Purposive standpoint in relation to PushanSawrtr, sun :' 248 Pythagoras: 114 Rapport: 470 between rational and irra- tional types : 470, 471 Ratio: 382, 383, 387* Schiller's conception of : 133 Rational, definition of : 583 explanation as Utopian ideal : 570 types judged from their con- scious psychology : 453 types, limitation of sensation and intuition in : 454 INDEX 647 Rational types, subservience to chance of the : 456 type, the unconscious of : 455 Rationalism as psychological atti- tude: 382 as monistic (James) : 373 logical and feeling : 382 synonymous with intellectual- ism (James) : 373 versus Empiricism (James) : 382, 387 Rationalist types (James) : 373 Ratramnus : 34 ' R6agibiliU ' of primary function : 340 Reactive rapidity, criterion of (Ostwald) : 401, 403, 408, 410 Realism : 37, 63, 374 as introversion : 374 of extraverted sensation type : 457 Reality-adaptation, value of images for : 312 Reason and objective values : 583 as capacity to be reasonable : 383 as disposition of the will : 383 as organ of balance : 280 as source of idea (Kant) : 383 incapable of creating the symbol : 322 laws of: 584 Reasonable judgment refers to objective as well as subjective factors: 496 Rebirth, meaning of : 222 Recapitulation of extraverted irra- tional types : 468 tt seq. of extraverted rational types : 452 et seq. of introverted irrational types: 5x1 etseq. of introverted rational types : 495 * seq, Reciprocity between thinking and sensation : 132, 133 Reconciliation of Delphic Apollo and Dionysos: 174 of differentiated with un- differentiated functions : 223, 231 of the opposite* : 323, 608 of Prometheus and Epime- theus : 227, 236 Reconciling Symbol as Principle of Dynamic Regulation : 257 Symbol, Brabmanic concep- tion of : 247 Reconciling Symbol in Chinese philo- sophy : 264 Symbol, Nature of, in Spit- teler: 320 Symbol, significance of : 234, 320, 608 Redeeming effect of living social symbol : 605, 607, 608 factor associated with devas- tation .-327 middle path: 242 symbol, effect of : 334 symbol, essential qualities of : 324. 32". 327 Reductive, definition of : 584 method: 78, 312, 313, 536, method as collective': 538 thinking of empiricist : 385 ' Reflective nature ' of Jordan : 185, 188 Reformation, the : 84, 293, 318 Regression converted into progres- sion : 325 of libido : 231, 608 Regula fidei : 19, 198 Relativity of God among the primitives : 301, 302 of Idea of God in Meister Eckehart : 297 et seq. of the Symbol : 272, 300 Relaxed attitude characteristic of extravert: 356 Religion as general attitude : 229 Indian and Chinese : 242 limitation of James' concept of: 393 Western forms of : 241 Religions attitude and feeling : 291, 392 character of collective ideas : 271 devotion, state of: 156, 157, 159 form in Spitteler : 239 function as universal psychic constituent: 392 symbol, value and meaning of: 158 system, effect of upon indi- vidual phantasy activity: 7 understanding of the problem : *77f 239 isness versus Irreligiousness (James) : 391 Reminiscence-complexes ; 157 Rexnusat, Charles oe : 62, 64, 65 646 INDEX Renaissance : 107, 230 Renunciation of greatest value : 252 ' Representations Collectives ' (Levy- ~ 53<> of feeling, etc., by intellectual formula : 437, 438 of feeling, its disastrous re- sults : 438, 439 of painful content (Freud) : 615 Retrogressive orientation : 107 Revene : 547 Rhoda, as soul-image: 275, 276, 277, 278, 280, 293 Ri and Ki, the two world-principles : 268, 269 Ribot: 543, 588 Riehl on consciousness : 536 Rigveda, hymn of : 251 Rita as libido-symbol : 261 as source of energy : 260 concept of : 151 Rite, meaning of : 257, 258 Rita-concept corresponding with Tao : 264 Ritual-murder notion : 332 Roman auguries : 282 Romantic type (Ostwald) : 401 type as extrayert : 404 n type, academic activities of (Ostwald) : 408 M type, external reaction of: 410, 411 Roscellinus, Johannes : 53 Rosicrucian solution : 231, 234 Rousseau : 104, 1x2, 113, 127 Ruggieri, Archbishop : 236 Running amok : 256, 278 Ryochi, as individual Self : 268, 269 as summum bonum : 269 paralleled with Brahman as light : 269 Sacred Books of the East : 242 et seg. Sacrifice, necessity of : 309, 313 Sacrificium intellect : 22, 25 phalli: 25 Sage of Omi : 268 Salvation - phantasy of idealistic woman: 599 Samadhi : 243 Samskaras : 306 San-tsai, thft three chief elements : yant : 331 Sarepta, widow of : 257 Satyr of Dionysian choir : 173 Saul, interpretation of vision of: of Tarsus, example of enantio- dromia : 542, 574, 575 Savage v. Barbarian Saviour, birth of : 322, 323, 331 Scepticism, attitude governed by object : 396 Schen of Tao : 267 Schiller and Goethe : 88, 102, 118, I2Z ., on Idealist and Realist : 168 on naive and sentimental poetry : 163 n recip on reciprocity of the two instincts: 133 on ' semblance ' : 162 on two basic instincts : 123, 140 Schiller's age and world of Greece : 91, 92, 170 attitude to Type problem: 83, 207 conscious attitude of abstrac- tion : zz8, 119 ' Golden Age ' : 108 intellectual concept of Beauty: in ., introverted feeling of inferior- ity: 119 letters on ^Esthetic Education of Man : 87 et seq. mediatory state : 161 ode An die Freude : 179 pair of opposites : 115 symbol as philosophical con- cept : 114, 148 third instinct : 134, 146 ,, transcendental way : in, 114 type : 89 Schiller, F. C. S., of Oxford : 398 Schisms, psychology of : 293 Schizophrenia (Bleuler) : 6x5 Scholasticism : 52, 62 Schopenhauer : 123, 152, 153, 170, 178, 237. 239. 269, 383, 389, 399, 549, 559, 584 on nature of the idea : 549, 559 on the reason : 383 Schopenhauer's attitude : 237 Schultz on Tertullian and Origen : 20, 20 Science and religion : 392 only one of forms of human thought: 56 ' Scuntia iniuitiva ' (Spinoza) : 568 INDEX 649 Scientific empiricism : 385 literature, abundance of : 434 separatism : 381 theories as symbols : 603 Scotus Erigena : 34 Seasonal analogies of myths : 241 Secondary function (Gross) : 337, 338 function, criticism of Gross' concept of : 353 function, effect of personal and milieu influence upon : 354 Seer or disciple, as Brahman : 247, 248 Sejunction (Wernicke) : 342 Sejunctive personality (Gross) : 342, 34* Self and world as commensurable factors : 478 as a possible aim : 144 ., as Brahman : 245, 246, 247 , as opposed to ego : 475, 476, 477, 473 denned under Ego : 540, 585 differentiation of, from the opposites : 144 the individual : 475 true and false of Toju's teaching : 268 unity of : 306 Self-divestiture, need of (Wor- ringer) : 368, 369, 371 Self-regulation of living organism : 371. 53 Semblance, Schiller's apologia for ; 162 Semiotic as opposed to symbolic : 82, 584, 601 Semon : 475 Sensation, abstract, as directed function : 587 an irrational function: 456, 587 and intuition : 587 as conceived by Schiller: 124, 131 concrete and abstract : 586 definition of : 585 element of: 168, 179, 456, 534. 535, 585 extraverted : 456 in introverted attitude: 498 etseq. normal and pathological : 587, 588 w repressed in intuitive atti- tude: 462 Sensation Type : 181, 182, 191, 456, 587 type, difficulty of rational approach to : 461 Sensation-presentation: 130 Sensational and intuitive attitudes : 388 Sensationalism as empiricism : 387 as function of sensation (James) : 388 as reflexive attitude : 388 Sensuality versus spirituality (sym- bol) : 608, 609 Sensuous instinct of Schiller : 124, 129, 131 relatedness as concretistic : 534 Sensuousness (Sinniichkeit) as psychological attitude : 388 Sentimental attitude : 166 Sermo of Abelard : 65, 398 Service of Woman and Service of the Soul: 272 Sex, the types uninfluenced by : 413 Sexual function and general atti- tude : 529 Sexual interpretation of Parsifal: 270 Sexuality not the fundamental problem : 270, 271 Sexualization of feeling and % think- ing (Freud) : 539, 588 Shadow of the extravert : 203 Shadow-effect of the two lands of thinking : 432 Shepherd, The, of Hennas : 275 Sign as opposed to symbol : 82, 584, 601 537 Angelus, on relativity of 17 on dans le caractire ' : 2x3 Sinister : 282 Socrates' dialogue upon beauty : 53 Nietzsche's attack upon : 178 Socrates' rationalistic attitude : 182 Somnambulism : 588 Song of Songs : 284, 285, 286, 287, 296, 297 Sophia- Achamoth : 234, 288, 290 Soul and masculine and feminine traits : 594 as autonomous complex : 305, 306 as birthplace of God (Ecke- hart) : 311 as established character or entity : 594 Silberer Silesius, God: 650 INDEX Soul as function of Godhead (Ecke- hart) : 315 as function of relationship : 209, 210, 279, 36, 3 10 as image of God (Eckehart) : 310 ., as perceptive organ of uncon- scious : 311 as personification of uncon- scious : 212, 306, 309, 310 character of, deducible from definition of : 588 historical ways of viewing the : 310 identification with : 596, 598 in league with undifferentiated function: 226 loss of : 278, 309 Meister Eckehart on the: 305, 315 nature of : 211, 212, 273, 305, 310, 329 or inner attitude (anima) : 593-59.6 pregnancy of : 595, 596 primitive view of : 306, 310 projection of : 596, 597 prospective symbolic char- acter of : 596 psychological view of : 306 service of : 272, 279 Soul-image : 276, 277, 283, 310 279, 280 definition of : 596 malevolent character of: 599 projection of : 597 represented by woman : 597, 598 when not projected : 599 Soul-stuff or soul-force of the primitive : 365 Spear of Klingsor : 269, 270 Speech (Vac) as extravertmg libido movement: 252 Spencer and Gillen on primitive mentality : 42, 316, 366 Spinoza : .568 Spiritualism : 210 Spiritus phantasticus : 137 Spitteler as poet : 236 Spitteler's principle of solution: 272 tf Prometheus and Epixnetheua : 3Q?' 2 4 319 Spitteler's Prometheus as compared with Goethe's : 215, 217, 218 type : 215 Stigmatization of Saints : 393 ' Still waters run deep ' (introverted feeling woman) : 492 Stilpon of Megara : 40, 50 Stirner : 93, 237 Stobaeus : 541 Stoic concept, eJ/wt/>/^"? : 32, 261 teaching : 280 Sub specie aeternifatis quality of sub- jective perception : 500 Subject and object relation as rela- tion of adaptation : 414 as inner object * the uncon- scious : 591 as only competent judge of his motives : 454 extraverted repression of : 423 meaning of : 591 Subject-object identification : 294, 295, 553, 563, 572. .582 -object identity, as hindrance to collective organization : 295 Subjectification, morbid, of con- sciousness: 474, 475, 477, 488, 4?i Subjective as epithet : 472, 473, 474 catastrophe of extravert : 425 factor, as firmly established reality : 473, 474 factor, importance of : 473 factor in introverted psy- factor, its value only relative : factor, meaning of the term : 473. 591 perception, influence upon thought, feeling, and action: 502 perception, nature of : 499- 502 plane, definition of : 599 process inseparable from thought: 431 Subjectively orientated thinking: Subjectivity, anti-real, of intro- verted sensation type : 502 Sully on abstract feelings : 521 Summum bonum : 269 Sun and Wind as proceeding from Prajapati : 252 Brahman as : 247, 243 Sun-goddess: 330 INDEX 63' Surya or sun : 248, 251 Swedenborg's transformation : 542 Symbiosis : 132 Symbol a complex creation : 606, 607 arising from conscious and unconscious co-operation : 606 as effecting transformation of libido : 291, 295, 296, 297, 3?3 as living thing : 602, 605 ,, as middleway : 324 as reconciling function : 608 as value for life : 159, 163, 291, 293, 294, 29 5' ^5 definition of : 60 1 et seq. dependent upon attitude of observer : 603 dual character of : 141, 162, 266, 607 effective nature of : 291, 605 efficacy of : 141, 144, 157, 605 general, and loss to the indi- vidual : 292, 293 Goethe's choice of : 231 irrational : 267, 322 nature of, in Spitteler: 329, 330 new : 298, 520, 329, 335 of Divine birth : 313 of god with bull's head : 604 of God-renewal in Spitteler's work : 240, 241, 320 t , of life, as conceived by Sehiller : 134, 148, 158, 267 . origin of : 144, 146, 158, 291, 293* 295* 296, 605, 606, 607 reconciling conscious with un- conscious: 326 rf representative of inferior func- tions: 330 social and individual : 605 social validity of : 580 Symbols as shaped energies : 311 of the great natural mysteries: Symbol-bearers: 225 -forming process as biolo- gical function : 294 Symbolic determinant of the will : Symbolical attitude : 604 Symptom as distinguished from symbol : 606 or symbol (phantasy) : 580 Symptomatic actions (Freud) : 606 Syraius : 137, 139 Synthetic character of introverted thinking : 489 ,, defined under Constructive: 536, 610 method : 83, 312, 313, 536 ,, or constructive : 536 Systole and diastole: ix, 179, 252, 263 Tabula rasa, human mind as : 377 Talbot, P. Amaury : 290 Tao as creative essence : 266 as irrational fact : 267 as symbol : 266, 267 concept of : 151, 264, 268 meanings of : 264 national religion of : 264 Tao-te-king, of Lao-Tze : 265 Tapas, or self-brooding : 149, 150, 248, 252, 259 Tat twam asi : 149 Taylor: 54 Teacher, inferior man never a good : 513 Temperaments, four ancient : 403, 404 human, clash of (James) : 372, 374 Templars, order of : 298 Templum pudoris : 286 Temptations of Christ : 70 Tender and tough-minded as intro- vert and extravert : 374, 382 Tender-minded and tough-minded (James) : 373, 374, 382 Tense attitude characteristic of introvert : 356 Tension between conscious and un- conscious: 532 psychic, an expression of libido : 356 Twtium non datur : 52, 133 Tertullian : 19, 288 Tewekkul-Beg, the Mohammedan mystic : 43 Thalamus, or bridal chamber : 286 Thema, ' approfondissement ' of : 34 1 or leading idea of Gross : 338, 339 Theory ox cognition : 42, 209 of types. Jung's previous con- tributions upon : 613 Theosophical thinking : 444 Theosophy : 2x0 Thesis and antithesis in symbol* formation : 607, 608 6 5 2 INDEX Thibetan prayer, ' om mani padmt hum ' : 221 Thin and thick characters of James : 374. 375 g, active or directed : 611 an Epimethean appendage to in extraverted feel- ing type : 449 and feeling as collective func- tions : 530, 531 and feeling, concretistic : 533, 534 and feeling types as rational : 452, 57<> attitude : 572 both kinds necessary as mutual correctives : 433 definition of : 611 dependent upon feeling : 612 enticing to the surface : 443 in extraverted attitude : 428 etseq. ., in introverted attitude: 480 etseq. infantile and negative, of extraverted feeling type: 45i passive or intuitive : 6n process, relation of, to sub- ject : 430 two sources of : 428 type : 434 Thomas Aquinas : 58 Thought-activity, active and pas- sive : 611 Thyestian feast : 39 Tibullus: 361 '-tion' and '-ness' ('-heit' and ' -keit ') : 212, 213, 226 Tishtrya Lied : 261 Toju, on nature of God : 268 Tondi : 304 Totem animal, assimilation to: 393 Tower of Babel : 283 Tower-symbol, the : 283, 284, 285, 293, 296 Transcendent function: 145, 159, 313. 562, 610, 612 Transference, a feeling-into process : 360, 567 state of : 567, 573 to object, as extra vert's de- fence : 369 Transformation of attitude : 240, 291, 295, 296, 297 Transubstantiation, problem of : 33, 84 Treasure-symbol : 309 Tree, the chosen : 221 Tristan, of Wagner : 298 Truth identified with extravert and his formula : 440 Tschuang-Tse : 83 Type, definition of : 612 Types described by author not the only possible ones : 621 function : 412 general-attitude : 412, 414, 529, 53<> general description of the : 412 mutual prejudices of the (James) : 373, 390. 391 random distribution of : 413 rational and irrational : 612, 6 *? social : 530 Typical conflict of introverted think- ing type: 90 Tyrant, psychology of : 594 ' Ugliest man ' of Nietzsche : 161, 237,540,610 Ugolino : 236 Ukr: 268 Unconscious activity : 616 and conscious, compensatory relation of : 422 and justification of experi- ' ence : 614 apperception : 615 as determining factor : 307, 308 as historical background of psyche : 211 as world of spirits : 310 compensatory function of: 616 contents, homogeneity of : 624 counter-position to intellec- tual formula : 441, 542 definition of : 613 embodied in a woman : 441 intervention between subject and object ; 502 not psychic caput mortuum : 508 personal and collective : 615, 616 product as symbolical expres- sion : 536 INDEX 653 Unconscious world of images : 211 Unconsciousness of anima, or soul : 597 of persona : 598 Undifferentiated function incapable of direction : 540 Uniform human psychology, the assumption of : 622 regulation of life, questionable efficacy of : 618 Uniformity of conscious psyche an academic chimera : 624 ' Unity of Being ' of Eckehart : 308 Universalia, controversy upon : 37, 38, 52, 62, 374 Universality of the types : 413 Unredeemed elements projected upon the Jews : 332 Ufanishad philosophy : 263 Upanishads: 152, 243, 245, 246, 248, 263, 300, 390 Uterus symbolism : 289, 290 Vac as Logos : 256 as name : 254 as principle of extraversion : 253. 2 54, 256 or speech : 252, 253 Valentinian school, classification of : 190 Varuna : 251, 258, 260 Vas, interpreted as uterus : 286 sapienticB . 290 Vase of sin : 289 Vayu, or wind 248 Vedas : 243, 258 Vedic conception : 242 hymns : 258 ft seq. Vena, or Gracious One * 247 Veraguth: 523 Vessel of devotion : 279 Vessel symbol, significance of : 291 -symbolism: 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 296 symbolism, extra - Biblical origin of : 288 et seq., 296 symbolism of Gnosis : 289 Vibrations, theosophical explana- tion of : 445 Vicvakarman : 253 Villa ; 543, 585 Virgin, symbol-attributes of The : 274, 283, 284, 285, 286, 288, 289, 296 w pregnancy of, as irrational condition: 322 Virgin-worship, a vestige of Pagan- ism : 290, 292, 293, 296 Virginity, symbols of : 286 Vischer, Fr. Th. : 369, 480 Vitality of psychic content, neces- sitating two opposite theories: 626 Volipresence, concept of : 85 Vulcan : 223 Wagner, Nietzsche's change of atti- tude to : 542 as advocate of love : 298 as thinking portion of Faust : 255 Wagner's Parsifal ; 98, 269, 292 Wandering Jew, The : 331 Wang- Yang-Ming : 269 Warnecke : 304 Weinmeer : 472, 474, 475 Wermcke : 339, 542 Western forms of religion : 241 Whale, the invisible, of Behemoth : Will, a secondary psychic pheno- menon : 547 and instinct : 565 as disposable energy : 144 as energic process : 617 definition of : 6x6 efficacy of : 140, 144, 145 lacking in primitive mentality: 617 metaphysical, of Schopen- hauer : 178, 315 'Will of God': 236 Winged-wheel of railway employes : 601 Witch-delusion of Middle Ages: 293 Woman, old, as the Church in Hennas story : 280, 281, 284 M service of : 272, 292 Wnder-child : 221, 320, 323, 332 Word, magical power of, 59 World an aesthetic not moral problem to perceptive *ypes: uuuiuif the : 309 'World as Will and Id**' (Schopen- hauer) : 549, 559 World-reason, pre-existing: 584 Woninger : 35*, 360, 361, 362. 364, 368 Wulfen's Cic&on* d. rilcksichtslosen : 458 654 INDEX Wundt; 359, 384, 519, 5* 5*4. 525, 527. 543. 544. 548, 585 on reason, an extroverted empiritistic view : 384 Wnwei, concept of : 268 Yajnavalkya : 246 Yakshaaspect or daemon : 254 Yama, or sun : 248 Yang and Yin, Taoistic pair of oppositea : 267 Yoga, practice of : 150, 156, 243 Yogasutra, of Patanjali : 243 Zarathustra as the Self of Nietzsche : of Nietzsche : 123, 178, 182, 229, 237, 239, 240, 399, 610 Zeller : 541 Zerebrale Sekundarfunktion, ol Gross : 337 Zwingli : 84, 85