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Psychoanalysis means a disclosing of the mental content, the latter being taken in its widest extent as embracing both the conscious as well as the unconscious psychic processes.
It began as a therapeutic treatment of certain neurotic diseases, but quickly developed into a general science of the unconscious which aims at a complete reorientation of human life and a far-reaching revaluation of its values. In its narrower aspects, it may be defined as a therapeutic procedure designed for the cure of nervous disorders which it effects by means of a mental analysis revealing and removing the underlying psychic causes that are at the bottom of these abnormal conditions. In its larger acceptation, it may be described as the investigation of the content and the workings of the unconscious mind and of the relation between the unconscious and the conscious in all manifestations of human life. Taken in this broad sense, psychoanalysis claims intimate contacts with all the phenomena of civilization and pretends to furnish a new basis for human activities in art, education, morality and religion. "In the few years of its existence," writes Dr. Andre Tridon, "psychoanalysis has made a deep impression on all the mental sciences and has especially revolutionized psychology, ethics and psychiatry. Its terminology, at first forbidding, has enriched the language with entirely new expressions, without which the cultured would find themselves helpless in psychological discussions. It has supplied not only physicians, but artists, thinkers, sociologists, educators, and critics with a new point of view. It offers to the average man and woman a new rational code of behavior based on science instead of faith." Dr. Isador H. Coriat speaks in the same strain: "Psychoanalysis is beginning to found a new ethics as well as a new psychology, a new neurology and a new school of literary criticism." This sweeping claim is based on the alleged discovery, made by the psychoanalysts, that the differences between the content of the unconscious of the abnormal and of the normal are extremely slight and that consequently the laws governing pathological conditions of the mind may be extended to its healthy states. The highest and the lowest are thus brought together and explained by the same causes. Whatever there is most exalted in man can be adequately understood as a transfiguration of the vilest animal instincts. Thus psychoanalysis would have us believe. "For," declares Miss Beatrice M. Hinkle in her introduction to Dr. C.G. Jung's notorious "Psychology of the Unconscious," "this theory has so widened in its scope that its application has now extended beyond a particular group of pathological states. It has in fact led to a new evaluation of the whole conduct of human life; a new comprehension has developed which explains those things that formerly were unexplained, and there is offered an understanding not only of a neurosis and the phenomena of conduct but the product of the mind as expressed in myths and religions." The new world-view that grows out of psychoanalysis, it may easily be surmised, follows the evolutionary and materialistic trend of modern psychology and is very much at pains to establish man's biological relationship to animal life. It strips man of everything that constitutes his unique dignity.
Psychoanalysis is of recent date. Though its antecedents may be traced back to the great French students of mental disturbances, notably Dr. S. M, Charcot of the Salpetriere, its origin as a distinct method is associated with the name of Dr. Sigmund Freud of Vienna, who formulated his theory and gave it to the public for the first time in 1895. He departed from previously adopted methods of treating nervous troubles by rejecting hypnotism and hypnotic suggestion as factors in the cure and substituting for them his own newly developed method of mental aniysis. To this he was led by the discovery of an older colleague, Dr. Breuer, who while treating a case of hysteria made the observation that the patient improved in the degree in which she disclosed her life history. Freud saw the deeper significance of this fact. It suggested to him that the first-step towards a cure of the neurosis is the unburdening of the mind which is oppressed by some unpleasant emotional experience and cannot regain its equilibrium until it has been relieved of the troublesome idea. But in some instances it was difficult to gain access to the hidden memories and an elaborate technique had to be developed to reach down into the depths of the mind. This technique Dr. Freud called psychoanalysis.
Though first received with distrust, it gradually won its way into the medical world and at present enjoys considerable popularity. In 1908 it was introduced to the scientists of America and since has gained in vogue. The literature of psychoanalysis is steadily growing and has already reached bewildering proportions. Divergences of opinion and method have sprung up among the followers of Dr. Freud, and different schools have arisen, but this is inevitable in a new science that is not yet entirely sure of its ground. A certain body of fundamental tenets, however, is universally accepted by the advocates of psychoanalysis.
The characteristic assumption of psychoanalysis is that psychoneurotic symptoms are due to unfulfilled desires of unrecognized tendencies that have been repressed into the unconscious and now are entirely forgotten in their original form. Though repressed, they are not obliterated and struggle to get expression. If this psychic tension finds no outlet through legitimate channels, it will express itself in unethical behavior or in the form of psychoneuroses. The neurosis betrays the existence of a dynamic idea in the unconscious which, though it cannot emerge into consciousness, may in some way influence emotional attitudes and produce certain motor impulses. As Dr. Freud says: "Neurotics suffer from reminiscences." The paradoxical phase of the matter is that the memories that cause the disturbance are forgotten. Unpleasant forgotten memories of a strong affective nature are the roots of the neurotic symptoms. These memories are also referred to as strangulated emotions.
If these concealed memories are brought back into consciousness they lose their evil power, the pent-up emotion is discharged and the symptoms disappear. The way to recovery then would seem easy. But a great difficulty confronts the physician, because since these memories, have dropped out of the field of consciousness they cannot be recalled at will. The forgetting, moreover, in these cases is not a mere passive process, it is rather an actual repression, which enhances the difficulty of discovery. Only by the subtle methods of psychoanalysis can the hidden springs be unearthed. For a proper understanding of the technique employed in the search after the disturbing emotions, a previous knowledge of Freud's theory of the unconscious is indispensable. This theory is not original with Freud, but has been taken from modern psychology, though Freud has added to it a few touches of his own, notably the radical contention that the unconscious is dominated by the sexual instinct.
The mind is the battleground of conflicting forces and tendencies. Its content is divided into the conscious and the unconscious. To the former belong those experiences which are actually in the focus of attention or that may easily be recalled (foreconscious). The latter comprises such experiences that have been utterly forgotten and that cannot be brought back to our knowledge by the ordinary processes of introspection. It is, moreover, the realm of primitive instincts, selfish and antisocial tendencies, elemental urges, brutal impulses and repressed desires. The unconscious knows no higher moral law, it seeks only self-gratification and is ruled by the pleasure principle. Civilization and social life put a curb on those primitive egocentric impulses and require of the individual to hold them in check. From early childhood days this repression goes on, and thus man becomes adjusted to his social environment. But the primitive cravings remain ready, to break through the barriers that have been erected against them.
Consciousness seeks adaptation to the social requirements and represses whatever would lead to conflicts with the outer world. It is governed by the reality principle. In the average human being the adjustment to the demands of civilization though beset with difficulties, is accomplished without any fatal consequences to physical and mental health. Some types, however, are unequal to the formidable task; they break down under the strain and morbid states result which manifest themselves by emotional instability, unreasonable irritability, violent antipathies and other abnormalities.
The unconscious is dynamic and continually strives for expression. It seeks to break into consciousness, but is prevented from doing so by an inhibitive power that stands guard at the threshhold of consciousness and repels these outlawed desires unless they assume a guise that will make them acceptable to our socialized consciousness. This inhibitive power is called the censor and represents the restraining force of society. By disguising itself the unconscious frequently determines our actions which we think have been performed from motives that are altogether different from the real ones. "Too much emphasis," says Dr Wilfrid Lay, "cannot be placed on the fact that the real causes of what we do in our acts from hour to hour are hidden from us and that the majority of assigned reasons are mere pretexts, the real motives being in the unconscious, and therefore absolutely inaccessible to us."
Into the unconscious we repress such wishes that shock our socialized consciousness and that have attached to them an unpleasant emotional tone. Not always, however is the repression successful. The unwelcome wish may form in the unconscious a complex that will eventually disturb the emotional and mental equilibrium. The repression, it must be understood, is not a deliberate act, but the result of the counteracting activity of another interest. "This unwitting repression," writes R. H. Hingley, "is the activity on which the whole psychoanalytic theory is built." The complex thus formed exerts a bias on the whole trend of the individual life and starts a series of impulsive activities that are unrelated to the rest of the mental life and resemble the phenomena of dissociation. From this source arise distressing phobias, annoying amnesias, dislikes, tics, compulsion neuroses, anxiety neuroses, paralysis and hysteria. The complex may be defined as a group of unconscious ideas, or rather a group of ideas in the unconscious, which, having been subjected to repression, continue to have an independent existence and growth. Since the complex is unknown the patient cannot account for his trouble and is utterly helpless. Psychoanalysia comes to his rescue, for its purpose is to set free the unconscious with a view to the discovery and comprehension of the patient's buried complexes and to reintegrate and reharmonize his mental life.
A complex greatly decreases efficiency and tends to make life miserable. It induces obsessions and inhibitions of various kinds and consquently becomes a serious handicap. Being progressive it leads from one inability to another. This expansion of the area of the complex is graphically described by Dr. W. Lay, who says: "A complex being repressed into the unconscious on account of the painful feelings connected with it, at once begins in the unconscious to associate with itself a number of other ideas, all of which take on the unpleasant quality. These ideas, therefore, are prevented by this acquired unpleasantness from coming into consciousness. The person in whose mind these complexes are forming will not, without effort, be able to remember these ideas when he wants them. The complexes will detach from the foreconscious, where are stored the ideas which are subject to voluntary recall, one person's name, another person's address, another's occupation, and drag them down towards the unconscious, where they will nevermore be subject to his will. It is thus seen that, when looked at from the under sideas it were from the point of view of the unconsciousthere must be complexes forming down there from the time of our earliest infancy. The complexes continue to develop and attach more and more ideas to themselves until finally our minds, even those of us who are completely normal, are made up of an overwhelming majority of forgotten or repressed matter, all of it available for the purpose of feeding the complexes, and none of it of any use to ourselves. Only the fullest human lives can prevent this formation of a sodden mass of complexes in the unconscious of every one of us."
Since according to Freud, all mental conflicts are of a sexual nature and arise out of suppressed sexual experiences, it follows that in his view every complex must cluster around a sex idea. Where the sex life takes a normal course, no complex can form and no neurotic disturbances occur. He explicitly states: "In a normal sexual life no neurosis is possible." This dictum has been amended by Dr. A. A. Brill, one of his disciples, and cast into this more acceptable form: "We can lay it down as a fundamental that if a person's love-life is adequately adjusted, his adjustment to life generally is normal."
In order to cure neurosis resulting from unfulfilled wishes, it is necessary to get at the hidden desire that has been thwarted and repressed and that seeks compensation in the neurotic symptons which afford a morbid gratification. This presents great difficulties, for what has been purposely forgotten is buried much deeper than what merely slips from our memory. The difficulty is accentuated when the fatal emotional shock dates back to early childhood, as is frequently the case. Actual and exceedingly clever resistance both from the unconscious as from the patient is encountered in the process of discovery. For strange to say, the patient clings to his symptons and cherishes them. "The time required to cure a patient," writes Dr. A. A. Brill, "is directly proportional to the degree in which he is morbidly benefited by his neurosis. The patient dreads the disclosure and offers opposition rather than assistance. Hence Dr. Freud complains: "When we undertake to cure a patient, to free him from the symptons of his malady, he confronts us with a vigorous, tenacious resistance that lasts during the whole time of the treatment."
Besides, the disguise which the unconscious urge has assumed must be penetrated. These assumed disguises, to which our suppressed cravings resort to elude the censor, are called symbols. They are meant to deceive the patient as well as everybody else and bear no recognizable resemblance to the reality which they cover. "Thus, for example," writes Dr. Lay, "the fear of crossing open places symbolizes a fear of quite a different sort which is in the unconscious, and never appears above the threshold because too terrible to be faced consciously." In fact, hate may mask love, fear may stand for desire. This symbolism renders the discovery of the real cause extremely difficult. Only after long and painstaking work will the analyst be able to reach down into the hidden depths of the individual and drag into the light the underlying motives and determinants of his symptons and attitudes.
In order to dig up the buried complex the patient's life history is carefully studied, his little mannerisms are analyzed, he is encouraged to cultivate a passive attitude and to speak freely whatever may come to his mind. Forgotten names or seemingly trivial slips of speech point to the offending complex who by his clever tricks thus defeats his own purpose. Of great assistance is the word-association method by which the patient is made to betray the concealed wish through his reactions to a list of selected words.
This process of investigation simultaneously constitutes the cure; for, in its course the existing resistance is overcome, the disturbing experience relived in all its emotional intensity or, as the psychoanalysts inelegantly say, abreacted, and the psychic tension released. This process by which the mind is purged and the complex dissolved and reintegrated with the normal mental life is designated as the cathartic method. During, the treatment a stage occurs where the patient transfers to the analyst the emotional attitude which was at the root of his trouble. This process is of a very delicate nature and calls for tactful and cautious handling.
The cure is not complete and permanent until the introverted energy, liberated by the destruction of the complex, is sublimated, that is, turned into channels of social activity and diverted to useful purposes. A dangerous urge may in this fashion not only be rendered harmless, but converted into a power for good. "The term sublimation," Dr. I. Coriat explains, "was first introduced by Freud and was borrowed from the terminology of chemistry. Literally, it means the act of refining and purifying or freeing from baser qualities. The process of such sublimation in psychoanalysis is an unconscious one, that is, it takes place without the subject's knowledge. It is the end result of psychoanalysis, since no patient can be said to have been cured, until he has successfully sublimated. Sublimation may be defined as the unconscious conducting of the repressed emotions to a higher, less objectionable and more useful goal. It is the capacity for replacement or exchange of the original (repressed) aim for a secondary social, religious, scientific or artistic aim. It is really a transference of basic instincts to other interests." According to Freud, who is quite frank and outspoken in this matter, sublimation is the directing of sexual cravings toward other aims of a non-sexual nature. In his view also the sexual impulse is the driving force behind civilization. "Nay," he says, "psychoanalysis claims that these same sexual impulses have made contributions whose value cannot be overestimated to the highest cultural, artistic and social achievements of the human mind." Over the extent of the part played by the sex factor in human life a split has occurred in the ranks of the psychoanalysts, some of whom repudiate the extreme views propounded by Freud on this subject. Nevertheless, even those who do not go to the length of Freud's position, make exaggerated concessions; to his theory.
This overemphasis of sex is one of the most loathsome aspects of the psychoanalytic theory. Under its irrevent touch everything becomes slimy and reminiscent of the ooze and murk in which the repulsive monsters of the deep disport themselves. Every human instinct revolts against this desecration of things that are held sacred by our race. Spontaneously vehement indignation is aroused at the blunt statement of Dr. A. A. Brill, that "Every activity or vocation not directed to sex in the broadest sense, no matter under what guise, is a form of sublimation." By its doctrine of sublimation, psychoanalysis has gone further than any other theory in degrading man. It falls as a ruinous blight upon human ideals. It takes the glamor out of life and leaves it like a faded and dead flower. Where we were wont to see high idealism, lofty inspiration, splendid consecration, pure devotion to duty and magnificent heroism, there, according to this vile interpretation of human nature, after all, is nothing but a disguised manifestation of the sex urge. Only a foul and diseased imagination would be willing to follow the tortuous paths and nasty byways into which a detailed exposition of this theory would of necessity lead us. We sum up the case in the words of Mr. R. H. Hingley, who writes: "Actors, ministers, surgeons, physicians, artists, poeta, may all give their reasons for the vocations they have accepted. But these reasons will be very different from those crude primitive tendencies, which psychoanalysis claims to be the motive power of their various activities. These tendencies are indignantly denied and wrathfully repudiated. They link up the finest and noblest achievements of human nature to its basest and most degraded forms. "At the bottom of every human activity, however, fair and exalted it may seem, there lies something sinister, something perverse. At the core of every flower of life we find curled up the hideous cankerworm of sex. That is what psychoanalysis would make of life."
The dream occupies a very important position in psychoanalysis. For the diagnosis of the morbid condition it is of incalculable value. More than any of the previously mentioned indications it helps to disclose the hidden complex. "In the dream the unconscious is particularly active and the ordinary inhibitions of the conscious are very much relaxed. The dream, therefore, is the key to the storehouse of the unconscious and opens up windows into the deepest and most remote recesses of the mind. It took Dr. Freud some time to recognize and fully appreciate the role of the dream. Of the gradual development of this understanding Dr. A. A. Brill tells us: "At first Freud paid no more attention to the dreams which his patients narrated than any other intelligent man of the time. But gradually as he listened to them he began to see that they must have some place in the vital economy of the mind, for everything in the physical or mental spheres must have a function. In time he was convinced that the dream is not a mere jumble, a senseless mechanism, but that it represents frequently in symbolic form the person's inmost thoughts and desires, that it represents a hidden wish. He thus developed his monumental work, the greatest in the century, in my opinion, 'The Interpretation of Dreams.' He found that the dream offered the best access, that it was the via regia as he put it, to the unconscious; that it was of tremendous help not only in the treatment, but also in the diagnosis."
The cornerstone of Freud's theory of dreams is the hypothesis that all dreams are the fulfilment of a wish, especially of such wishes which we would disown and indignantly repudiate in our waking hours. The dream in this way answers a twofold biological function, it protects sleep against interruption through the unsatisfied desire and affords a fictitious gratification to repressed cravings. Freud expresses this office of the dream in technical language as follows; "Dreams are the removal of sleep-disturbing psychic stimuli by way of hallucinated satisfaction."
In the dream vengeance, hatred, jealousy, envy and other evil passions, which consciousness habitually holds in check, come to the fore and find a vicarious satisfaction by enacting scenes in which the unconsciously entertained wishes born out of these passions are realized. Yet even here these vile tendencies dare not appear in their native form and their unmitigated ugliness; for, though during sleep the vigilance of the censor relaxes it does not entirely cease. The dream, therefore, makes use of symbols in order to evade the censor. Withal on account of the partial eclipse of the censorship, the symbolic disguise may be less rigid and the underlying wish can be more easily recognized than in the incidents of our wakeful life.
To unlock the real meaning of the dream is the aim of dream interpretation which in psychoanalysis has been brought to a very high degree of perfection. Still it is fraught with great difficulties by reason of the disguise and the symbolic substitutions to which the dream has recourse. Dreams have two contents, the manifest and the latent. The former is obvious to the dreamer; the latter can only be revealed by minute analysis. Only the latent content is of value in the investigation of the unconscious.
The dynamic of the dream has received much attention on the part of the psychoanalyst. The factors energetic in the dream are dramatization, distortion, displacement and symbolic representation, all of which have but one aim, to nullify the watchfulness of the censor. These very devices which outwit the censor also render the interpretation a laborious task. The numerous gaps, the jarring incongruities and the slender threads by which the action is held together are due to the absence of reason in our dream life. The unconscious is devoid of logic. It is blind and impulsive. Dr. Ernest Jones writes: "Dream making proceeds by methods quite foreign to our waking mental life; it ignores obvious contradictions, makes use of highly strained analogies, and brings together widely different ideas by means of the most superficial associations." This illogical character of the dream processes accentuates the difficulties of dream interpretation.
According to Freud, dreams never deal with trivialities, but always with vital concerns of the individual. They revert with special predilection to childhood, in which the instinctive life was as yet unrepressed, and rehearse experiences of a strong sensational or emotional emphasis. The dream also is made to throw light upon certain race processes; for the situation of humanity with regard to social repression is analogous to that of the individual. Humanity also has its dreams by which it wishes to escape the restraint imposed by civilization. And in these dreams it likewise uses a symbolism intended to dissemble the real meaning. "Fairy tales, legends and religions," says Dr. A. Tridon, "are the dreams of the human race, expressing as they do the fulfillment of mankind's desire for happiness, and power or compensating mankind for the many restrictions imposed upon it by man's own biological status." These phenomena, then, according to Freud are properly understood if interpreted along the line of dream symbolism. Some have applied this method to the beliefs and traditions of mankind and have made havoc of its most precious spiritual possessions. Psychoanalysis in this respect has proved a great solvent and destroyer.
If we take psychoanalysis in its restricted sense as a therapeutic method we have no fundamental objections against it, but only warn against its exaggerations and counsel extreme caution in its application. The mind is a delicate mechanism and unskilled tampering with its working is liable to produce much harm. When the treatment of the patient is under the supervision of an experienced and reliable physician and if it is surrounded by the safeguards made necessary by the intimate nature of the disclosures, there is nothing to be said against it from a moral point of view. In view of ugly possibilities, however, these provisos must be insisted upon in the same way as they are urged in the practice of hypnotism. We are not prepared to admit that all psychic disturbances have their origin in unfulfilled desires, especially if these desires are supposed to be of the sexual sort. Moreover, psychoanalysis can hardly be said to be the cure of the neurosis, for after the disturbing element in the psychic life has been discovered, a complete re-education of the patient frequently becomes necessary. Psychoanalysis promises more than it can perform. The fashionable cult of psychoanalysis as practised in some circles lacking both knowledge and experience cannot be condemned too severely, because it may lead to most disastrous results. Psychoanalysis is a dangerous toy.
From the admissions of psychoanalysts strong arguments may be drawn in favor of well known Catholic practises such as confession and asceticism. A sincere confession will purge the mind of much perilous stuff which otherwise might begin to rankle and poison the soul. The resistance which the penitent experiences in disclosing his weakness also has a great curative value. Christian asceticism is, by far, more effective in repressing evil tendencies than the unconscious repression of which psychoanalysis makes so much. The conscious repression demanded by the moral law will prevent the formation of hidden complexes and will exercise deliberate control over evil impulses and tendencies. Habits of virtue, moreover, will not only repress the wicked inclinations into the unconscious, but will drain them of all their energy and gradually supplant them entirely. The important point overlooked by the psychoanalysts is this that disorders of the mental life are not so much caused by effectually suppressed desires as by insufficiently suppressed desires which are allowed to lurk in the mind. The Christian law forbidding evil thoughts prevents such insincerity that may avenge itself in psychic disturbances.
Psychoanalysis contains elements of truth, but they are distorted beyond recognition on account of the fantastic and pseudo-scientific terminology affected by the apostles of the new theory. Many of its heralded discoveries are common-sense truths expressed in a mysterious jargon calculated to impose upon the uneducated. That men act from mixed motives and that at times they disguise the real reasons that prompt their actions has long since been recognized by the teachers of the spiritual life, one of their staples being to warn the striver after virtue against this subtle self-deception. Sublimation is equally familiar to them, since they do not teach the annihilation of passions, but a redirection of them into spiritual channels. In this and in many other items Catholic asceticism has long anticipated what is useful in psychoanalysis, which has not even clarified the matters in question, but has only caused confusion and bewilderment by its pretentious vocabulary.
As an interpretation of life and a basis of conduct, psychoanalysis must be rejected without reserve. Its personifiication of the unconscious psychic processes, upon which it rests its astonishing claims, is unscientific and not borne out by facts. The unconscious is neither dynamic nor as omnipresent as the psychoanalyst would make it out. Freud has entirely inverted psychology, making the unconscious the dominant factor in our psychic life and exalting the instinctive life above the rational. In reality this would make an end of psychology as an independent science and reduce it to a branch of biology. On this point psychoanalysis is in accord with the general drift of modern evolutionary psychology.
For freedom there is no room in the psychoanalytical system; the will is nothing but the puppet of the unconscious forces. Thus writes Dr. A. A. Brill, the authentic exponent of the Freudian psychology: "For it is known that all our actions are physically determined by unconscious motives, that there is no psychic activity which does not follow definite paths formed in the individual since his childhood." Far from being known, this is contrary to observation and utterly at variance with well-established facts. For Freud man is only a bundle of conflicting impulses, each one of which is striving for the mastery whilst the mind is the passive onlooker. The animal life is not only the substratum, but the actual source of the rational and the spiritual. It is impossible to erect on such a basis an anthropology that will do justice to the dignity of man. Without exaggeration it may be asserted that at present psychoanalysis is the greatest enemy to a right understanding and a just estimate of man's place in the universe. It degrades him as few systems of philosophy have ever done. It obliterates the boundary lines between sanity and insanity; it explains the normal manifestations of the mind on the same basis as the phenomena of the diseased mind. Art, religion, heroism have the same source as crime, morbidity and perversion.
The unconscious is the key to everything. The highest is nothing but a sublimation of the lowest. Behind everything lies the dark and somber background of the vital urge. The influence of such teaching can but be pernicious and subversive of morality.
The only valuable contribution that psychoanalysis has made to the science of education is that it has called renewed attention to the fatal consequences of illegitimate and unreasonable repression. The general application of psychoanalytic methods to the training of children would be nothing short of criminal. It would ruin the beautiful unconcern of the child, ruthlessly brush the bloom of innocence from its soul and, instead of preventing nervous troubles, lay the foundation of morbidity and perversion. Even Mr. R. H. Hingley, otherwise favorably disposed towards psychoanalysis, protests against such an abuse. "We do not believe," he writes, "it is desirable, necessary or possible to apply the full technique of this method to the task of educating the ordinary child."
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APA citation. (1922). Psychoanalysis. In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: The Encyclopedia Press. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/17000a.htm
MLA citation. "Psychoanalysis." The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 17 (Supplement). New York: The Encyclopedia Press, 1922. <http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/17000a.htm>.
Transcription. This article was transcribed for New Advent by Father Thomas Carleton. Dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Ecclesiastical approbation. Nihil Obstat. 1922. Arthur J. Scanlan, D.D., Censor. Imprimatur. +Patrick J. Hayes, Archbishop of New York.
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