Philosophy of the Unconscious

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by Eduard Von Hartmann


  The next group contains the influence of conscious representation on the vegetative functions. The influence of the most dissimilar emotions on the functions of secretion are well known (e.g., vexation and anger on bile and milk, terror on urine or stool, voluptuous pictures on the semen, &c.) The idea of having taken medicaments (e.g., laxatives) often acts just as well as the medicaments themselves. The imagination of having been poisoned may actually produce the symptoms of poisoning. Many Christian enthusiasts in the days of the martyrs really felt the martyrs’ pains, as hypochondriacs really feel the diseases which they fancy themselves to have, and as young doctors sometimes think they have all possible diseases of which they hear. (There is a remarkable story told of one of Boerhave’s pupils, who was obliged to give up the study on this account.) The surest way to be taken with an infectious disease is to be afraid of it, whilst the physician under like circumstances is very rarely attacked. Lively fear and the thought of sickness is of itself sufficient to cause the same, without any infection, especially if it be heightened by the terror of incurring risk. Throughout the whole of the Middle Ages there occur reports of wounds and bleedings in ascetic enthusiasts, and we have no reason to refuse credence to these accounts, when German, Belgian, and Italian physicians of the present century attest as eye-witnesses1 spontaneous bleeding at certain times. Why should not blood-vessels, if they permit blushing and occasionally allow blood perspiration, so far dilate as to allow of bleeding through the skin?

  Similar cases occur even in secular life. Ennemoser relates as a well-attested story a case where the strokes of a soldier condemned to run the gauntlet are said to have afflicted the body of his sister with like pains and external cutaneous marks. The much-doubted fright of the pregnant likewise belongs here. Most physiologists reject the facts without more ado because they cannot explain them. Burdach, Baer (who relates the case of his own sister), Budge, Bergmann, Hagen (the two latter in Wagner’s “Handwörterbuch”) thoroughly admit the facts; Valentin, at any rate, does not dispute their possibility in general. J. Müller admits the fright of the pregnant in so far as it is said only to produce arrest of formation, but not as respects the effecting of changes at particular parts of the body. But now, on the one hand, almost every arrested formation is a merely partial one, and, on the other hand, we have so many examples, both of the inheritance of quite partial marks, moles, as well as of partial changes in our own body (as fancied effect of poisons or drugs, wounds of stigmatics), that there is no reason to doubt such partial influence of the maternal mind on the soul of the fœtus, the latter being still in process of organic formation. Whilst I thus recognise the fact of the “fright” of the pregnant, I by no means doubt that nine-tenths of such stories are nonsense, but in strictness very few well-attested cases would be sufficient.

  A great number of sympathetic or miraculous cures are allied to the occurrence of signs of poisoning after imaginary poisoning, and to the effects of drugs without any having been taken. As in those cases the idea of the effect evokes the unconscious will to procure the means, and thereby the effect itself, so also here. What is peculiar to the case is the question in what way the unconscious willing of the means is produced through the idea of the effect. The conscious willing of the effect does not seem essential, for in the case of the fright of the pregnant, and in the occurrence of effects which are even dreaded, the conscious will can only be contrary, not favourable, and yet the unconscious will and the effect make their appearance. On the other hand, another factor is indispensable in that part of the phenomena which proceeds from the personal will of the individual, and not (as with mother and fœtus) magically through another will, namely, the belief in the occurrence of the effect; for, as Paracelsus finely says, “Faith it is which locks the will.” Where, therefore, the conscious will makes a show of opposition with the belief in its own power of resistance, there faith calls up an unconscious will which hinders the effect of the first idea. The question is only, which faith is stronger, that in the occurrence of the effect, or that in one’s own power of resistance, according as the unconscious will inclines to the one or the other side? The art in such cures is then only this: to inspire the belief in success, and because men do not perceive this connection, perhaps also such rational belief would be too weak to be effective, over-faith must procure faith, and for that purpose all sorts of hocus-pocus are employed. Of the unconscious will the word holds literally true: “The more will, the more power;” and this is the key to magic.

  1 See Salzburg Medical Journal of 1814, i. 145–158, and ii. 17–26: by Medical Counsellor and Professor v. Druffel at Münster. Further: “Louise Lateau, sa Vie, ses Extases, ses Stigmates.” Medical study by “Account of an Unusual Phenomenon in the Case of an Old Patient,” Dr. F. Lefebvre, Professeur de Pathologie générale et de Théra-peutique à Louvain. Louvain, Ch Peters, 1870.

  VIII.

  THE PLASTIC ENERGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.

  IN the preceding sections we have not altogether been able to avoid anticipating the theme of the present chapter. This was owing to the intimate connection of the subjects successively treated with the principle of organic formation, being indeed at bottom illustrations of the same, so that the attempt to make any sharp division would only have resulted in the omission of some very remarkable phenomena. We have seen that the term which covers the larger number of facts is that of Instinct; but one may almost as easily include the phenomena under the notion of Keflex Action, for an external stimulus must always be present, upon which action almost of necessity follows, although the reflexes may be of a considerable degree of complexity.

  Equally well, however, may all the phenomena in dispute be regarded as effects of Natural Therapeutics, for only when the external stimulus is some extraneous opposing substance can it act as a stimulus, otherwise it is uninfluential. The subduing of the material is, however, an act of the vis medicatrix. The special character of the formative principle would then have to be referred to the realisation of the IDEA of the species at the appropriate stage of life, whilst Nature’s remedial power would consist in the conservation of the realised IDEA. It is obvious, however, that, on the one hand, the warding off of a disturbance is only possible by means of new formations, i.e., that the realised IDEA cannot maintain itself except by development, by the realisation, that is, of a new stage of the IDEA; and, on the other hand, that the realisation of a new stage of the IDEA involves a series of struggles and self-preserving acts. This is so because all points of the organism are threatened with disturbance at every moment; and therefore, in the third place, the moulding and constructive instincts, no less than the plastic energy within the body, work according to fixed ideas, which must be unreservedly looked upon as integral elements of the Idea of the class. Nay, in the wider sense, all other instincts must be conceived as realisations of special aspects of the type; for the typical idea of the nightingale would be incomplete if the particular note were omitted, as that of the ox without butting, or that of the wild boar without the gnashing of the tusks, or of the swallow without the semi-annual migration.

  It accordingly only remains for us, in the first place, to make a few remarks with respect to the appropriateness of the organising impulse, and, secondly, to show how the instances of the plastic energy shade imperceptibly into the previously considered manifestations of the Unconscious.

  As concerns the adaptations of organic life, on the one hand, goodly volumes might be written on this point alone, and, on the other, the greatest caution is required with respect to teleological considerations in detail, teleology having already fallen somewhat into discredit, owing to the numerous ends that have been foisted on Nature by self-conceited minds, which not seldom verge on the ridiculous and absurd. We can therefore only here throw out some brief hints, which the rather suffice for our purpose as at the present day the knowledge of every educated person is sufficient for their elaboration.

  I start from this—that the raising of consciousness presents i
tself as the purpose of the animal kingdom. Whether one seeks the end of this clearer consciousness in an increase of enjoyment, or of knowledge, or finally of an ethical moment, the elevation of consciousness always remains the direct end of all animal organisation (comp. Chap. xiv. C.) Why, generally, the embodiment of the mind should form the condition for the origin of consciousness we shall see later on (Chap. iii. C.), but the question we have now to ask is, Why this separation of organic Nature into animal and vegetable kingdoms? The first reason is that for the conversion of inorganic into organic matter, and of the lower into higher organic combinations, there is required such an exertion of unconscious psychic force that the same individual possesses no further energy for inward growth, because its force is used up in the vegetal processes. Only when in the main no further advance in the organic chemical composition of matter is required, but on the average a mere maintenance at the stage already attained, or a mere direction of the spontaneous tendency to relapse to lower stages is desired, only then does the individual retain the necessary surplus energy to form the pre-existing matter into the artificial structure of the organs of consciousness, and to urge on the process of inward mental development to the utmost. Hence the separation of Nature into the producing vegetable kingdom and the consuming animal kingdom. But now producer and consumer might still be conceived united in a single being, the vegetable half of the organism forming the materials, by the use of which the other animal half develops its consciousness. The second reason for the separation of animal and vegetable kingdom is opposed to this, however. Namely, it is evident that an animal bound to the soil on which it grows (as the transitional forms of lower aquatic animals to the vegetable kingdom show) is capable of no extensive experience, and thereby of no higher mental development; locomotion therefore becomes imperative as a condition of a higher stage of consciousness. But now, if the materials of which organic matter is formed (i.e., matter alone fitted to support a higher consciousness) must for the most part be drawn from water permeating the soil, and an underground absorbing surface of considerable extent (root fibres) is necessary for this purpose, it is clear, that no creatures of the higher grades of consciousness can directly arise from inorganic nature, since locomotion is impossible with such a subterranean arrangement. We see, then, the reason for the mobility of animals and the stability of plants, and in general the ground of a division of the two kingdoms.

  Animals must then seek their food, and need for that purpose not only motor organs, but also organs to enable them to distinguish between the substances appropriate and inappropriate for their nutrition, and to execute their movements with accuracy. These are the organs of sense. Further, the organism can only assimilate matter by absorption; this must therefore be in a liquid form. The food of plants is already in this form, but that of animals is generally met with in a solid condition. These must therefore have organs in order to bring this solid food into the fluid state. This purpose is served by the digestive system, with its comminuting organs (mouth and stomach), its dissolving juices (saliva for conversion of starch into sugar, gastric juice for solution of albuminous matter, bile for partial saponification of fat, and pancreatic juice for all these purposes taken together), its long canals, and, finally, with its orifice for the evacuation of indigestible matters. The chyle vessels which absorb the chyme are the root-fibres of the animal. Since, on account of its incomparably greater dynamic performances, it consumes far more matter than the plant, provision must be made for a more speedy replacement. This purpose is served by the system of the circulation of the blood, which constantly supplies to all parts of the organism new materials in the most appropriate form for assimilation. As the chemical process in the animal is essentially a process of return to an earlier state, i.e., a process of oxidation, provision must be made for the necessary oxygen. Plants require no special organs for their reciprocal relations with the atmosphere, because their surface, unusually large in proportion to their content, sufficiently effects diffusion. In the animal, however, whose surface, for other reasons, must be many thousand times smaller than that of plants, the necessary quantity of oxygen must be introduced into the body through special internal organs of great superficial extent (bronchial plexus), permitting powerful ventilation, and through a rapid change of the adjacent strata of air by means of vibratile cilia, as well as through a constitution of the dividing membranes favourable to diffusion. This process of oxidation at the same time engenders animal heat, which is a condition of the subtler changes of organic matter, or at any rate spares a great part of the expended energy for the psychical influence.

  Thus from consciousness as aim of animal life we have deduced the necessity of five systems—that of movement, of organs of sense, of digestion, circulation of the blood, and respiration. What determines the external form of the body as a whole is chiefly the locomotive system. Its fundamental principle is contraction, as we see already in ciliary movement and the movements of the lower aquatic animals. As soon, however, as the other systems have attained a certain degree of development, the contractile mass requires points of support in the body itself, in order to be able to perform partial movements better, and in more varied directions; especially is this need felt by land animals (even the lowest). These points of support are obtained by means of a skeleton, which is first formed of thickened layers of epithelium or calcareous epidermic layers, afterwards in the Vertebrata of the bony skeleton. These solid parts serve at the same time for protection to the soft parts; thus, among the vertebrates, skull and spinal column protect the brain and spinal cord. The organs for external locomotion, even in animals tolerably low in the scale, are elaborated into special limbs, which exhibit the most varied modifications, in conformity with the elements, the localities, and the particular food which may be assigned the animal.—To facilitate the reciprocal influence of mind and body there is formed, as a sixth, the nervous system, of the significance of which mention has already often been made; and finally, as a seventh, in the service not of the individual but of the race, there is added the reproductive system.

  This in outline would be the teleological deduction of the construction of the animal kingdom with consciousness as end, whereby the vegetable kingdom appears merely, or at least in the main, only as ancillary to the animal kingdom, in that, on the one hand, it prepares the means of subsistence, and, on the other, the materials of heat and oxygen; for the carnivorous animals also live on the vegetable kingdom, though indirectly. To prove in detail the fitness of the contrivances would, as said already, detain us far too long. I only call attention to the wonderful construction of the organs of sense, where the conformity to an end most strikingly appears. This is almost more the case with the organs of generation, where it is especially remarkable that, notwithstanding the greatest difference in other respects, these organs are always suitable to both sexes of a species, the rest of the bodily form also always allowing of sexual congress. The time of heat among animals is always so arranged that after the fixed period of pregnancy the young appear at the season when food is most abundant. In many cases special parts for the furtherance of sexual congress spring into existence at the time of heat, which afterwards again disappear. Thus, many insects get hooks on the sexual parts for firmly holding the female; the frog has wartlike prominences on the thumbs of the anterior feet, which it inserts into the body of the female; the male of the common water-beetle, sucking-disks attached by stalks on the three first tarsal joints—the female, on the contrary furrowing of the wing-sheaths.

  Of special interest are the investigations of Dr. J. Wolf on the construction of the human os femoris, communicated in the 50th volume of Virchow’s Archiv. That it forms a tube, because it can thus be lighter with the same solidity, was already well known. It is, however, new that the cross-beams and supports, arranged in regular curves (cutting one another at right angles), which break through the bony cavity at the upper and lower end of the bone, are so ordered that they exactly agree with those constru
ctions which are in accordance with the principles of mechanics, when the forces of pressure and of draught of the burdened human femur are taken into account, and the lines of pressure and draught in the interior of the bone are ascertained. Nature, in order to render innocuous the “shearing forces” tending to inner dislocation and dispersion, has thus here realised in an unconscious way those technical rules of mechanics, as they have been applied by the conscious mind only in very recent times, and in a manner still far from perfect, in our modern iron structures (bridges, cranes, &c.)

  A common error is that of doubting the adaptation of organisms because certain conditions of fitness which we presume to lay down are not satisfied. That a perfect adjustment in every particular is impossible should indeed be obvious to every one, for otherwise no disease or weakness would subdue the body; it would be immortal. It would be childish to demand that a human cranium should sustain the blow of a hailstone as large as a fist, and declare it to be unsuitable to its purpose because it does not do so, since its adaptation for such exceptional cases would be accompanied by other and far greater inconveniences. Of this kind, however, are most cases where it is asserted that organisms are ill contrived: they amount to this, that contrivances are wanting which would be appropriate in certain cases, but unsuitable in most other cases or relations.

  Another kind of alleged want of adaptation is due to the constancy of the morphological fundamental types, which forms a thoroughgoing natural law, and only places in a clearer light the unity of all organic forms—the unity of the whole plan of creation. It is the lex parsimonice, which is verified also in the fashioning of organic forms, in that Nature finds it easier to leave here and there innocuous superfluities than always to be making changes and executing new ideas: she prefers to stop at the greatest possible unity of the IDEA, and only makes just as many modifications as are indispensably necessary. Of this kind are the rudimentary teats among male mammals, the eyes of the blind-mole, the caudal vertebræ in tailless animals, the swimming-bladder of fishes which always live at the bottom of the water, the extremities of bats and Cetaceæ, and so forth.

 

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