"Look at that child: what wild delight, what merry skipping, what gladsome laughter, what a glistening eye; all questioning as to the cause would be in vain, or the causes enumerated would be utterly disproportionate to the glee. And suddenly, and again without any conscious reason, all is changed; the child is quietly lost in itself, its eye troubled, its lips pouting, on the point of weeping, peevish and sad, whereas a moment before it was contented and full of mirth" (Carus's "Psyche "). Where else should these feelings, whose peculiarity it is to be referable only to unconscious ideas, take their rise than from vital perceptions of the lower nerve-centres? That in man the power of these feelings appears to us so much the greater the less the independence of the cerebral consciousness, permits us to conclude that among the animals their significance is likewise the greater the lower we descend in the animal scale, which might be expected à priori, since in this descent the mental enjoyments and sufferings of the human cerebral consciousness dwindle more and more.

One will now see how, also, other sensuous feelings which, in part, are determined and accompanied by clearly conscious perceptions of the brain, for the rest remain obscure and unintelligible so far as they are brought about by perceptions and feelings of lower centres. Thus, e.g., one may compare the facility with which we can reproduce completely and clearly, as mere idea, any simple feeling that is determined by the perception of the higher senses leading direct to the brain, with the want of success in trying to recall clearly and completely hunger and thirst or sensual enjoyment.

Lastly, there remains the possibility that yet other unconscious ideas help in determining the special nature of the states of feeling. We have, namely, already seen above that sensuous perception frequently only has for its consequence a sensation of pleasure or pain if it occurs with a certain strength, whilst it persists of itself below

this degree, as indifferent objective perception, without causing such a feeling. But now hardly any sensuous perception is quite simple, but is compounded of a number of elements which are only combined into a unity through the common act of perception. Still one or several of these partial perceptions may very well be followed by feeling, whilst the other partial perceptions remain indifferent in respect of feeling. Nevertheless, if the union of these different partial perceptions into one total perception is not accidental, but grounded in the nature of the object, not only will those productive of feeling, but also the indifferent parts of the whole perception, blend with the feeling, and help, at the same time, to determine the quality of the whole mental state, because, indeed, the mind has no interest in undertaking the separation of the feeling-producing from the indifferent parts. Thus, e.g., every characteristic property of the vocal timbre and note influences the character of the pleasurable feeling which is produced in me on hearing a particular singer, and were it not that these slight differences, which only just enable me to distinguish different voices, possess the power to produce a difference in the degree of the enjoyment, I should not be in a position to separate the enjoyment, which I have experienced in hearing this particular singer, from those fine shades of the indifferent perception, without losing the special quality of the feeling experienced. This only proves that we have never practised ourselves in separating out what is properly pleasure and displeasure in our psychical states, but have comprehended all states of the mind in which pleasure and displeasure appear, including all accompanying perceptions and ideas (nay, even desires), under the term Feeling. One now sees that even among the merely concomitant perceptions there may be some unconscious for the brain, as has just been shown in the case of those productive of feeling. Still more important, however, do these concomitant ideas become when we pass from the sphere of sensuous perception into that of intellection.

VOL. I.

R

We have now reviewed in general the different modes. in which feeling may be determined by unconscious ideas, and perhaps on this occasion already the importance of unconscious ideas for the whole emotional life may have also become visible. This importance cannot be rated too highly. Let any one take for test whatever feeling he pleases, and seek to grasp it with perfectly clear consciousness in its whole extent. It is in vain; for unless satisfied with the most superficial explanation, he will constantly stumble on an irresolvable remainder, which mocks at every endeavour to illuminate it with the burning-glass of consciousness. But now, if one asks, what then has been done with the part that has become clear whilst it has been embraced with full consciousness, we shall be obliged to say that it has been translated into thoughts, i.e., conscious ideas, and only so far as feeling has been translated into thoughts has it become clearly conscious. But that feeling, even if only partially, has been recast into conscious ideas, sufficiently proves indeed that it already unconsciously contains these ideas, for otherwise the thoughts would, in fact, not be the same as the feeling. If the previously unconscious part of feeling, on being passed through consciousness, shows itself as material of thought, we may suppose the same also of the part of the feeling not yet interpenetrated by consciousness; for both in the individual and in humanity as a whole, the boundary between the not-understood and the understood part of feeling is always shifting.

Only so far as the feelings can be already translated into thoughts, only so far are they communicable, if we disregard the always extremely scanty instinctive language of gesture; for only so far as feelings are capable of being translated into thoughts are they to be rendered into words. One knows, however, what difficulty there is in the communication of feelings; how often they are unrecognised and misunderstood; nay, even how often they are declared to be impossible. In general, feelings

can only be understood by him who has had them; only a hypochondriac understands the hypochondriac, only he who has loved, the lover. How often, however, do we fail to understand ourselves; how enigmatical often are our own feelings, especially when they occur for the first time; how liable are we to the greatest self-delusions with regard to them! We are often mastered by a feeling which has already struck firm roots in our inmost being without our suspecting it, and suddenly, on some occasion or other, there fall, as it were, scales from our eyes. One has only to remember how often the souls of pure girls are completely possessed by a first love, which they would with a good conscience stoutly deny; but should the unconsciously loved one incur a danger from which they can save him, then all at once the hitherto bashful maiden stands forth in the full heroism and sacrificing spirit of love, shunning neither ridicule nor slander. Then, however, she also knows at that same moment that she loves and how she loves. But as in this instance love, so at least once in a lifetime every spiritual feeling, has existed in us, and the process in virtue of which we become self-conscious once for all, is the translation of the unconscious ideas which determined feeling into conscious ideas, i.e., thoughts and words.

IV.

THE UNCONSCIOUS IN CHARACTER AND MORALITY.

THERE is no manifestation of will without an exciting cause or motive. The will of the individual is primarily potential, a latent force, and its passage into the manifestation of energy, into definite volition, requires as sufficient reason a motive which always possesses the form of a mental representation. These psychological premisses I assume. Volition as such only differs in intensity. All other apparent attributes of the volition belong to its contents, i.e., to the mental pictures of the objects of volition, and this content again is connected with the motives. According to the kinds of objects most eagerly desired (as sensual enjoyment, goods and gold, praise, honour and renown, successful love, enjoyment of art and artistic productions, knowledge, &c.), is volition itself distinguished into different main tendencies (impulses), as, e.g., inordinate longing after enjoyments of sense, covetousness and avarice, vanity, ambition, and lust of fame, ardour of love, artistic impulse, thirst for knowledge, and the spirit of inquiry, &c.

If, now, this content of volition were solely dependent on motives, psychology would be very simple and the mechanism definite for all individuals. Experience shows, however, that one and the same motive, quite apart from accidental differences of disposition, acts differently on different individuals. Public opinion fails to affect one, is all in all to another. To this man the laurel crown of the poet or a beautiful woman seems contemptible, whilst another sacrifices his life-happiness for their possession.