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Osmania University 

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PSYCHOANALYSIS has sprung many 
-*- surprises on us, performed more than 
one volte- face before our indignant eyes. 
No sooner had we got used to the psychi- 
atric quack who vehemently demonstrated 
the serpent of sex coiled round the root 
of all our actions, no sooner had we begun 
to feel honestly uneasy about our lurking 
complexes, than lo and behold the psycho- 
analytic gentleman reappeared on the 
stage with a theory of pure psychology. 
The medical faculty, which was on hot 
bricks over the therapeutic innovations, 
heaved a sigh of relief as it watched the 
ground warming under the feet of the 
professional psychologists. 


This, however, was not the end. The 
ears of the ethnologist began to tingle, 
the philosopher felt his gorge rise, and 
at last the moralist knew he must rush 
in. By this time psychoanalysis had be- 
come a public danger. The mob was on 
the alert. The (Edipus complex was a 
household word, the incest motive a 
commonplace of tea-table chat. Amateur 
analyses became the vogue. " Wait till 
you've been analysed," said one man 
to another, with varying intonation. A 
sinister look came into the eyes of the 
initiates the famous, or infamous, Freud 
look. You could recognize it everywhere, 
wherever you went. 

Psychoanalysts know what the end will 
be. They have crept in among us as 
healers and physicians ; growing bolder, 

they have asserted their authority as 



scientists; two more minutes and they 
will apj>ear as apostles. Have we not 
seen and heard the ex cathedrd Jung? 
And does it need a prophet to discern 
that Freud is on the brink of a Weltan- 
schauung or at least a Menschenschauung, 
which is a much more risky affair ? What 
detains him ? Two things. First and 
foremost, the moral issue. And next, 
but more vital, he can't get down to the 
rock on which he must build his church. 
Let us look to ourselves. This new 
doctrine it will be called no less has 
been subtly and insidiously suggested to 
us, gradually inoculated into us. It is 
true that doctors are the priests, nay 
worse, the medicine-men of our decadent 
society^ Psychoanalysis has made the 
most -of the opportunity. 

First and foremost the issue is a moral 


issue. It is not here a matter of reform, 
new moral values. It is the life or death 
of all morality. The leaders among the 
psychoanalysts know what they have in 
hand. Probably most of their followers 
are ignorant, and therefore pseudo-inno- 
cent. But it all amounts to the same 
thing. Psychoanalysis is out, under a 
therapeutic disguise, to do away entirely 
with the moral faculty in man. Let us 
fling the challenge, and then we can take 
sides in all fairness. 

The psychoanalytic leaders know what 
they are about, and shrewdly keep quiet, 
going gently. Yet, however gently they 
go, they set the moral stones rolling. At 
every step the most innocent and unsus- 
pecting analyst starts a little landslide. 
The old world is yielding under us. With- 
out any direct attack, it comes loose under 



the march of the psychoanalyst, and we 
hear the dull rumble of the incipient 
avalanche. We are in for a debacle. 

But at least let us know what we are 
in for. If we are to rea'r a serpent against 
ourselves, let us at least refuse to nurse 
it in our temples or to call it the cock of 
^Esculapius. It is time the white garb of 
the therapeutic cant was stripped off the 
psychoanalyst. And now that we feel the 
strange crackling and convulsion in our 
moral foundations, let us at least look at 
the house which we are bringing down 
over our heads so blithely. 

Long ago we watched in frightened 
anticipation when Freud set out on his 
adventure into the hinterland of human 
consciousness. He was seeking for the 
unknown sources of the mysterious stream 
of consciousness. Immortal phrase of the 



immortal James ! Oh stream of hell 
which undermined my adolescence ! The 
stream of consciousness ! I felt it stream- 
ing through my brain, in at one ear and 
out at the other. And again I was sure 
it went round in my cranium, like Homer's 
Ocean, encircling my established mind. 
And sometimes I felt it must bubble up 
in the cerebellum and wind its way through 
all the convolutions of the true brain. 
Horrid stream ! Whence did it come, 
and whither was it bound ? The stream 
of consciousness ! 

And so, who could remain unmoved 
when Freud seemed suddenly to plunge 
towards the origins ? Suddenly he stepped 
out of the conscious into the unconscious, 
out of the everywhere into the nowhere, 
like some supreme explorer. He walks 
straight through the wall of sleep, and 



we hear him rumbling in the cavern of 
dreams. The impenetrable is not im- 
penetrable, unconsciousness is not nothing- 
ness. It is sleep, that wall of darkness 
which limits our day. Walk bang into 
the wall, and behold the wall isn't there. 
It is the vast darkness of a cavern's 
mouth, the cavern of anterior darkness 
whence issues the stream of consciousness. 

With dilated hearts we watched Freud 
disappearing into the cavern of darkness, 
which is sleep and unconsciousness to us, 
darkness which issues in the foam of all 
our day's consciousness. He was making 
for the origins. We watched his ideal 
candle flutter and go small. Then we 
waited, as men do wait, always expecting 
the wonder of wonders. He came back 
with dreams to sell. 

But sweet heaven, what merchandise ! 



What dreams, dear heart ! What was 
there in the cave ? Alas that we ever 
looked ! v JNothing_but^a hygc__slimy ser- 
pent of sex, and heaps of excrement, and 
a myriad repulsive little horrors spawned^ 
between sex and excrement. 

Is it true ? Does the great unknown 
of sleep contain nothing else ? No lovely 
spirits in the anterior regions of our 
being ? None ! Imagine the unspeak- 
able horror of the repressions Freud brought 
home to us. Gagged, bound, maniacal 
repressions, sexual complexes, faecal inhi- 
bitions, dream-monsters. We tried to 
repudiate them. But no, they were there, 
demonstrable. These were the horrid 
things that ate our souls and caused our 
helpless neuroses. 

We had felt that perhaps we were 
wrong inside, but we had never imagined 



it so bad. However, in the name of 
healing and medicine we prepared to 
accept it all. If it was all just a result 
of illness, we were prepared to go through 
with it. The analyst ' promised us that 
the tangle of complexes would be un- 
ravelled, the obsessions would evaporate, 
the monstrosities would dissolve, subli- 
mate, when brought into the light of day. 
Once all the dream-horrors were translated 
into full consciousness, they would subli- 
mate into well, we don't quite know 
what. But anyhow, they would sublimate. 
Such is the charm of a new phrase that 
we accepted this sublimation process with- 
out further question. If our complexes 
were going to sublimate once they were 
surgically exposed to full mental conscious- 
ness, why, best perform the operation. 
Thus analysis set off gaily on its thera- 

17 B 


peutic course. But like Hippolytus, we 
ran too near the sea's edge. After all, 
if complexes exist only as abnormalities 
which can be removed, psychoanalysis 
has not far to go. Our own horses ran 
away with us. We began to realize that 
complexes were not just abnormalities. 
They were part of the stock-in-trade of 
the normal unconscious. The only ab- 
normality, so far, lies in bringing them 
into consciousness. 

This creates a new issue. Psychoanal- 
ysis, the moment it begins to demonstrate 
the nature of the unconscious, is assuming 
the role of psychology. Thus the niew 
science of psychology proceeds to inform 
us that our complexes are not just mere 
interlockings in the mechanism of the 
psyche, as was taught by one of the first 
and most brilliant of the analysts, a maji 



now forgotten. He fully realized that 
even the psyche itself depends on a certain 
organic, mechanistic activity, even as life 
depends on the mechanistic organism of 
the body. The mechanism of the psyche 
could have its hitches, certain parts could 
stop working, even as the parts of the 
body can stop their functioning. This 
arrest in some part of the functioning 
psyche gave rise to a complex, even as 
the stopping of one little cog-wheel in a 
machine will arrest a whole section of 
that machine. This was the origin of the 
complex-theory, purely mechanistic. Now 
the analyst found that a complex did not 
necessarily vanish when brought into 
consciousness. Why should it ? Hence 
he decided that it did not arise from the 
stoppage of any little wheel. For it 

refused to disappear, no matter how many 



psychic wheels were started. Finally, 
then, a complex could not be regarded as 
the result of an inhibition. 

Here is the new problem. If a complex 
is not caused by the inhibition of some 
so-called normal sex-impulse, what on 
earth is it caused by ? It obviously 
refuses to sublimate or to come undone 
when exposed and prodded. It refuses 
to answer to the promptings of normal 
sex-impulse. You can remove all possible 
inhibitions of the normal sex desire, and 
still you cannot remove the complex. 
All you have done is to make conscious 
a desire which previously was unconscious. 

This is the moral dilemma of psycho- 
analysis. The analyst set out to cure 
neurotic humanity by removing the cause 
of the neurosis. He finds that the cause 

of neurosis lies in some unadmitted 



desire. After all he has said about inhi- 
bition of normal sex, he is brought at 
last to realize that at the root of almost 
every neurosis lies some incest-craving, 
and that this incest-craving is not the 
result of inhibition of normal sex-craving. 
Now see the dilemma it is a fearful one. 
If the incest-craving is not the outcome 
of any inhibition of normal desire, if it 
actually exists and refuses to give way 
before any criticism, what then ? What 
remains but to accept it as part of the 
normal sex-manifestation ? 

Here is an issue which analysis is 
perfectly willing to face. Among them- 
selves the analysts are bound to accept 
the incest-craving as part of the normal 
sexuality of man, normal, but suppressed, 
because of moral and perhaps biological 

fear. Once, however, you accept the 



incest-craving as part of the normal sexual- 
ity of man, you must remove all repression 
of incest itself. In fact, you must admit 
incest as you now admit sexual marriage, 
as a duty even. Since at last it works 
out that neurosis is not the result of 
inhibition of so-called normdl sex, but of 
inhibition of incest-craving. Any inhibi- 
tion must be wrong, since inevitably in 
the end it causes neurosis and insanity. 
Therefore the inhibition of incest-craving 
is wrong, and this wrong is the cause of 
practically all modern neurosis and insanity. 

Psychoanalysis will never openly state 
this conclusion. But it is to this conclusion 
that every analyst must, willy-nilly, con- 
sciously or unconsciously, bring his patient. 

Trigant Burrow says that Freud's uncon- 
scious does but represent our conception 

of conscious sexual life as this latter exist? 



in a state of repression. Thus Freud's 
unconscious amounts practically to no 
more than our repressed incest impulses. 
Again, Burrow says that it is knowledge 
of sex tljat constitutes sin, and not sex 
itself. v lt is when the mind turns to 
consider and know the great affective- 
passional functions and emotions that sin 
enters. Adam and Eve fell, not because 
they had sex, or even because they com- 
mitted the sexual act, but because they 
became aware of their, sex and of the 
possibility of the act. , When sex became 
to them a mental object that is, when 
they discovered that they could deliber- 
ately enter upon and enjoy and even 
provoke sexual activity in themselves, then 
they were cursed and cast out of Eden. 
Then man became self-responsible ; he^ 
entered on his own career. 



Both these assertions by Burrow seem 
to us brilliantly true. But must we 
inevitably draw the conclusion psycho- 
analysis draws ? Because we discover in 
the unconscious the repressed body of our 
incest-craving, and because the recogni- 
tion of desire, the making a mental objec- 
tive of a certain desire causes the intro- 
duction of the sin motive, the desire in 
itself being beyond criticism or moral 
judgment, must we therefore accept the 
incest-craving as part of our natural 
desire and proceed to put it into practice, 
as being at any rate a lesser evil than 
neurosis and insanity ? 

It is a question. One thing, however, 
psychoanalysis all along the line fails to 
determine, and that is y the nature of the 
pristine unconscious in man, The incest- 
craving is or is not inherent in the pristine 



psyche. When Adam and Eve became 
aware of sex in themselves, they became 
aware of that which was pristine in them, 
and which preceded all knowing. But 
when the analyst discovers the incest 
motive in the unconscious, surely he is 
only discovering a term of humanity's 
repressed idea of sex. It is not even 
suppressed sex-consciousness, but repressed. 
That is, it is nothing pristine and anterior 
to mentality. It is in itself the mind's 
ulterior motive. That is, the incest- 
craving is propagated in the pristine 
unconscious by the mind itself, even 
though unconsciously. The mind acts 
as incubus and procreator of its own 
horrors, deliberately unconsciously. And 
the incest motive is in its origin not a 
pristine impulse, but a logical extension 
of the existent idea of sex and love. The 



mind, that is, transfers the idea of incest 
into the affective-passional psyche, and 
keeps it there as a repressed motive. 

This is as yet a mere assertion. It 
cannot be made good until we determine 
the nature of the true, pristine unconscious, 
in which all our genuine impulse arises 
a very different affair from that sack of 
horrors which psychoanalysts would have 
us believe is source of motivity. The 
Freudian unconscious is the cellar in 
which the mind keeps its own bastard 
spawn. N/The true unconscious is the well- 
head, the fountain of real motivity. The 
sex of which Adam and Eve became 
conscious derived from the very God who 
bade them be not conscious of it it was 
not spawn produced by secondary propa- 
gation from the mental consciousness 





T is obvious we cannot recover our 

moral footing until we can in some 
way determine the true nature of the 
unconsciou^. The word unconscious itself 
is a mere definition by negation and has 
no positive meaning. Freud no doubt 
prefers it for this reason. He rejects 
subconscious and preconscious, because 
both these would imply a sort of nascent 
consciousness, the shadowy half-conscious- 
ness which precedes mental realization. 
And by his unconscious he intends no 
such thing. He wishes rather to convey, 
we imagine, that which recoils from con- 
sciousness, that which reacts in the psyche 
away from mental consciousness. His 



unconscious is, we take it, that part of 
the human consciousness which, though 
mental, ideal in its nature, yet is unwilling 
to expose itself to full recognition, and 
so recoils back into the affective regions 
and acts there as a secret agent, uncon- 
fessed, unadmitted, potent, and usually 
destructive. The whole body of our re- 
pressions makes up our unconscious. 

The question lies here : whether a 
repression is a primal impulse which has 
been deterred from fulfilment, or whether 
it is an idea which is refused enactment. 
Is a repression a repressed passional im- 
pulse, or is it an idea which we suppress 
and refuse to put into practice nay, 
which we even refuse to own at all, a 
disowned, outlawed idea, which exists 
rebelliously outside the pale ? 

Man can inhibit the true passional 



impulses and so produce a derangement 
in the psyche. This is a truism nowadays, 
and we are grateful to psychoanalysis for 
helping to make it so. But man can do 
more than this. Finding himself in a sort 
of emotional cul-de-sac, he can proceed 
to deduce from his given emotional and 
passional premises conclusions which are 
not emotional or passional at all, but 
just logical, abstract, ideal. That is, a 
man finds it impossible to realize himself 
in marriage. He recognizes the fact that 
his emotional, even passional, regard for 
his mother is deeper than it ever could 
be for a wife. This makes him unhappy, 
for he knows that passional communion 
is not complete unless it be also sexual. 
He has a body of sexual passion which 
he cannot transfer to a wife. He has a 
profound love for his mother. Shut in 



between walls of tortured and increasing 
passion, he must find some escape or fall 
down the pit of insanity and death. What 
is the only possible escape ? To seek in 
the arms of the mother the refuge which 
offers nowhere else. And so the incest- 
motive is born. All the laboured explan- 
ations of the psychoanalysts are unneces- 
sary. The incest motive is a logical 
deduction of the human reason, which 
has recourse to this last extremity, to 
save itself. Why is the human reason in 
peril ? That is another story. At the 
moment we are merely considering the 
origin of the incest motive. 

The logical conclusion of incest is, of 
course, a profound decision in the human 
soul, a decision affecting the deepest 
passional centres. It rouses the deepest in- 
stinctive opposition. And therefore it must 



be kept secret until this opposition is either 
worn away or persuaded away. Hence 
the repression and ultimate disclosure. 

Now here we see the secret working of 
the process of idealism. By idealism we 
understand the motivizing of the great 
affective sources by means of ideas men- 
tally derived. As for example the incest 
motive, which is first and foremost a 
logical deduction made by the human 
reason, even if unconsciously made, and 
secondly is introduced into the affective, 
passional sphere, where it now proceeds 
to serve as a principle for action. 

This motivizing of the passional sphere 
from the ideal is the final peril of human 
consciousness. It is the death of all spon- 
taneous, creative life, and the substitut- 
ing of the mechanical principle. 

It is obvious that the ideal becomes 



a mechanical principle, if it be applied 
to the affective soul as a fixed motive. 
An ideal established in control of the 
passional soul is no more and no less 
than a supreme machine-principle. And a 
machine, as we know, is the active unit of 
the material world. Thus we see how it 
is that in the end pure idealism is identical 
with pure materialism, and the most 
ideal peoples are the most completely 
material. Ideal and material are identical. 
The ideal is but the god in the machine the 
little, fixed, machine principle which works 
the human psyche automatically. 

We are now in the last stages of ideal- 
ism. And psychoanalysis alone has the 
courage necessary to conduct us through 
these last stages. The identity of love 
with sex, the single necessity for fulfilment 
through love, these are our fixed ideals. 



We must fulfil these ideals in their extre- 
mity. And this brings us finally to incest, 
even incest-worship. We have no option, 
whilst our ideals stand. 

Why ? Because incest is the logical 
conclusion of our ideals, when these ideals 
have to be carried into passional effect. 
And idealism has no escape from logic. 
And once he has built himself in the shape 
of any ideal, man will go to any logical 
length rather than abandon his ideal 
corpus. Nay, some great cataclysm has 
to throw him down and destroy the whole 
fabric of his life before the motor-principle 
of his dominant ideal is destroyed. Hence 
psychoanalysis as the advance-guard of 
science, the evangel of the last ideal 
liberty. For of course there is a great 
fascination in a completely effected ideal- 
ism. Man is then undisputed master of 

83 c 


his own fate, and captain of his own soul. 
But better say engine-driver, for in truth 
he is no more than the little god in the 
machine, this master of fate. He has 
invented his own automatic principles, 
and he works himself according to them, 
like any little mechanic inside the works. 

But ideal or not, we are all of us between 
the pit and the pendulum, or the walls 
of red-hot metal, as may be. If we refuse 
the Freudian pis-aller as a means of escape, 
we have still to find some way out. For 
there we are, all of us, trapped in a corner 
where we cannot, and simply do not 
know how to fulfil our own natures, 
passionally. We don't know in which 
way fulfilment lies. If psychoanalysis 
discovers incest, small blame to it. 

Yet we do know this much : that the 
pushing of the ideal to .any further lengths 



will not avail us anything. We have 
actually to go back to our own uncon- 
scious. But not to the unconscious which 
is the inverted reflection of our ideal 
consciousness. We must discover, if we 
can, the true unconscious, where our life 
bubbles up in us, prior to any mentality. 
The first bubbling life in us, which is 
innocent of any mental alteration, this 
is the unconscious. It is pristine, not in 
any way ideal. It is the spontaneous 
origin from which it behooves us to live. 
What then is the true unconscious ? 
It is not a shadow cast from the mind. 
It is the spontaneous life-motive in every 
organism. Where does it begin ? It be- 
gins where life begins. But that is too 
vague. It is no use talking about life 
and the unconscious in bulk. You can 
talk about electricity, because electricity 



is a homogeneous force, conceivable apart 
from any incorporation. But life is in- 
conceivable as a general thing. It exists 
only in living creatures. So that life 
begins, now as always, in an individual 
living creature. In the beginning of the 
individual living creature is the beginning 
of life, every time and always, and life 
has no beginning apart from this. Any 
attempt at a further generalization t^kes 
us merely beyond the consideration of 
life into the region of mechanical homo- 
geneous force. This is shown in the 
cosmologies of eastern religions. 

The beginning of life is in the beginning 
of the first individual creature. You may 
call the naked, unicellular bit of plasm 
the first individual, if you like. Mentally, 
as far as thinkable simplicity goes, it is 
the first. So that we may say that life 



begins in the first naked unicellular organ- 
ism. And where life begins the uncon- 
scious also begins. But mark, the first 
naked unicellular organism is an individual. 
It is a specific individual, not a mathe- 
matical unit, like a unit of force. 

Where the individual begins, life begins. 
The two are inseparable, life and individu- 
ality. And also, where the individual 
begins, the unconscious, which is the 
specific life-motive, also begins. We are 
trying to trace the unconscious to its 
source. And we find that this source, in 
all the higher organisms, is the first ovule 
cell from which an individual organism 
arises. At the moment of conception, 
when a procreative male nucleus fuses 
with the nucleus of the female germ, at that 
moment does a new unit of life, of conscious- 
ness, arise in the universe. Is it not obvious ? 


The unconscious has no other source than 
this, this first fused nucleus of the ovule. 
Useless to talk about the unconscious 
as if it were a homogeneous force like 
electricity. You can only deal with the 
unconscious when you realize that in 
every individual organism an individual 
nature, an individual consciousness, is 
spontaneously created at the moment of 
conception. We say created. And by 
created we mean spontaneously appearing 
in the universe, out of nothing. Ex nihilo 
nihil fit. It is true that an individual is 
also generated. By the fusion of two 
nuclei, male and female, we understand 
the process of generation. And from the 
process of generation we may justly look 
for a new unit, according to the law of 
cause and effect. As a natural or auto- 
matic result of the process of generation 



we may look for a new unit of existence. 
But the nature of this new unit must 
derive from the natures of the parents, 
also by law. And this we deny. We 
deny that the nature of any new creature 
derives from the natures of its parents. 
The nature of the infant does not follow 
from the natures of its parents. The 
nature of the infant is not just a 
new permutation-and-combination of ele- 
ments contained in the natures of the 
parents. There is in the nature of the 
infant that which is utterly unknown in 
the natures of the parents. Something 
which could never be derived from the 
natures of all the existent individuals or 
previous individuals. There is in the 
nature of the infant something entirely 
new, underived, underivable, something 
which is, and which will for ever remain, 



causeless. And this something is the un- 
analysable, indefinable reality of indivi- 
duality. Every time at the moment of 
conception of every higher organism an 
individual nature incomprehensibly arises 
in the universe, out of nowhere. Granted 
the whole cause-and-effect process of 
generation and evolution, still the indivi- 
dual is not explained. The individual 
unit of consciousness and being whieh 
arises at the conception of every higher 
organism arises by pure creation, by a 
process not susceptible to understanding, 
a process which takes place outside the 
field of mental comprehension, where 
mentality, which is definitely limited, 
cannot and does not exist. 

This causeless created nature of the 
individual being is the same as the old 
mystery of the divine nature of the soul. 



Religion was right and science is wrong. 
Every individual creature has a soul, a 
specific individual nature the origin of 
which cannot be found in any cause-and- 
effect process whatever. Cause-and-effect 
will not explain even the individuality 
of a single dandelion. There is no assign- 
able cause, and no logical reason, for 
individuality. On 4 the contrary, individu- 
ality appears in defiance of all scientific 
law, in defiance even of reason. 

Having established so much, we can 
really approach the unconscious. By the 
unconscious we wish to indicate that 
essential unique nature of every individual 
creature, which is, by its very nature, 
unanalysable, undefinable, inconceivable. 
It cannot be conceived, it can only be 
experienced, in every single instance. And 
being inconceivable, we will call it the 



unconscious. As a matter of fact, soul 
would be a better word. By the uncon- 
scious we do mean the soul. But the 
word soul has been vitiated by the idealistic 
use, until nowadays it means only that 
which a man conceives himself to be. 
And that which a man conceives himself 
to be is something far different from his 
true unconscious. So we must relinquish 
the ideal word soul. 

If, however, the unconscious is incon- 
ceivable, how do we know it at all ? We 
know it by direct experience. All the 
best part of knowledge is inconceivable. 
We know the sun. But we cannot con- 
ceive the sun, unless we are willing to 
accept some theory of burning gases, some 
cause-and-effect nonsense. And even if 
we do have a mental conception of the 
sun as a sphere of blazing gas which it 



certainly isn't we are just as far from 
knowing what blaze is. Knowledge is 
always a matter of whole experience, 
what St. Paul calls knowing in full, and 
never a matter of mental conception merely. 
This is indeed the point of all full know- 
ledge : that it is contained mainly within 
the unconscious, its mental or conscious 
reference being only a sort of extract or 

It is necessary for us to know the 
unconscious, or we cannot live, just as 
it is necessary for us to know the sun. 
But we need not explain the unconscious, 
any more than we need explain the sun. 
We can't do either, anyway. We know 
the sun by beholding him and watching 
his motions and feeling his changing power. 
The same with the unconscious. We 
watch it in all its manifestations, its 



unfolding incarnations. We watch it in 
all its processes and its unaccountable 
evolutions, and these we register. 

For though the unconscious is the crea- 
tive clement, and though, like the soul, 
it is beyond all law of cause and effect 
in its totality, yet in its processes of self- 
realization it follows the laws of cause 
and effect. The processes of cause and 
effect are indeed part of the working: out 
of this incomprehensible self-realization of 
the individual unconscious. The great 
laws of the universe are no more than 
the fixed habits of the living unconscious. 

What we must needs do is to try to 
trace still further the habits of the true 
unconscious, and by mental recognition 
of these habits break the limits which we 
have imposed on the movement of the 
unconscious. For the whole point about 



the true unconscious is that it is all the 
time moving forward, beyond the range 
of its own fixed laws or habits. It is no 
good trying to superimpose an ideal nature 
upon the unconscious. We have to try 
to recognize the true nature and then 
leave the unconscious itself to prompt new 
movement and new being the creative 

What we- are suffering from now is the 
restriction of the unconscious within cer- 
tain ideal limits. The more we force the 
ideal the more we rupture the true move- 
ment. Once we can admit the known, but 
incomprehensible, presence of the integral j 
unconscious ; once we can trace it home 
in ourselves and follow its first revealed 
movements ; once we know how it habitu- 
ally unfolds itself; once we can scienti- 
fically determine its laws and processes 



in ourselves : then at last we can begin 
to live from the spontaneous initial prompt- 
ing, instead of from the dead machine- 
principles of ideas and ideals. There is 
a whole science of the creative unconscious, 
the unconscious in its law-abiding activi- 
ties. And of this science we do not even 
know the first term. Yes, when we know 
that the unconscious appears by creation, 
as a new individual reality in every newly- 
fertilized germ-cell, then we know the 
very first item of the new science. But it 
needs a super-scientific grace before we 
can admit this first new item of knowledge. 
It means that science abandons its intel- 
lectualist position and embraces the old 
religious faculty. But it does not thereby 
become less scientific, it only becomes at 
last complete in knowledge. 




TT is useless to try to determine what 
*is consciousness or what is knowledge. 
Who cares anyhow, since we know with- 
out definitions. But what we fail to 
know, yet what we must know, is the nature 
of the pristine consciousness which lies 
integral and progressive within every func- 
tioning organism. The brain is the seat 
of the ideal consciousness. And ideal 
consciousness is only the dead end of 
consciousness, the spun silk. The vast 
bulk of consciousness is non-cerebral. It 
is the sap of our life, of all life. 

We are forced to attribute to a star-fish, 
or to a nettle, its own peculiar and integral 
consciousness. This throws us at once out 



of the ideal castle of the brain into the 
flux of sap-consciousness. But let us not 
jump too far in one bound. Let us refrain 
from taking a sheer leap down the abyss 
of consciousness, down to the invertebrates 
and the protococci. Let us cautiously 
scramble down the human declivities. Or 
rather let us try to start somewhere near 
the foot of the calvary of human conscious- 
ness. Let us consider the child in the 
womb. Is the foetus conscious ? It must 
be, since it carries on an independent and 
progressive self-development. This con- 
sciousness obviously cannot be ideal, can- 
not be cerebral, since it precedes any 
vestige of cerebration. And yet it is an 
integral, individual consciousness, having 
its own single purpose and progression. 
Where can it be centred, how can it 
operate, before even nerves are formed ? 



For it does steadily and persistently 
operate, even spinning the nerves and 
brain as a web for its own motion, like 
some subtle spider. 

What is the spinning spider of the first 
human consciousness or rather, where is 
the centre at which this consciousness 
lies and spins ? Since there must be a 
centre of consciousness in the tiny foetus, 
it must have been there from the very 
beginning. There it must have been, in 
the first fused nucleus of the ovule. And 
if we could but watch this prime nucleus, 
we should no doubt realize that through- 
out all the long and incalculable history 
of the individual it still remains central 
and prime, the source and clue of the 
living unconscious, the origin. As in the 
first moment of conception, so to the end 
of life in the individual, the first nucleus 

49 D 


remains the creative-productive centre, 
the quick, both of consciousness and of 
organic development. 

And where in the developed foetus shall 
we look for this creative-productive quick ? 
Shall we expect it in the brain or in the 
heart ? Surely our own subjective wisdom 
tells us, what science can verify, that it 
lies beneath the navel of the folded foetus. 
Surely that prime centre, which is the 
very first nucleus of the fertilized ovule, 
lies situated beneath the navel of all 
womb-born creatures. There, from the 
beginning, it lay in its mysterious relation 
to the outer, active universe. There it 
lay, perfectly associated with the parent 
body. There it acted on its own peculiar 
independence, drawing the whole stream 
of creative blood upon itself, and, spinning 
within the parental blood-stream, slowly 



creating or bodying forth its own incarnate 
amplification. All the time between the 
quick of life in the foetus and the great 
outer universe there exists a perfect cor- 
respondence, upon which correspondence 
the astrologers based their science in the 
days before mental consciousness had 
arrogated all knowledge unto itself. 

The foetus is not personally conscious. 
But then what is personality if not ideal 
in its origin ? The foetus is, however, 
radically, individually conscious. From 
the active quick, the nuclear centre, it 
remains single and integral in its activity. 
At this centre it distinguishes itself utterly 
from the surrounding universe, whereby 
both are modified. From this centre the 
whole individual arises, and upon this 
centre the whole universe, by implica- 
tion, impinges. For the fixed and stable 



universe of law and matter, even the 
whole cosmos, would wear out and disin- 
tegrate if it did not rest and find renewal 
in the quick centre af creative life in 
individual creatures. 

And since this centre has absolute 
location in the first fertilized nucleus, it 
must have location still in the developed 
foetus, and in the mature man. And 
where is this location in the unborn infant ? 
Beneath the burning influx of the navel. 
Where is it in the adult man ? Still 
beneath the navel. As primal affective 
centre it lies within the solar plexus of 
the nervous system. 

We do not pretend to use technical 
language. But surely our meaning is 
plain even to correct scientists, when we 
assert that in all mammals the centre of 
primal, constructive consciousness and 



activity lies in the middle front of the 
abdomen, beneath the navel, in the great 
nerve centre called the solar plexus. How 
do we know ? We feel it, as we feel 
hunger or love or hate. Once we know 
what we are, science can proceed to analyse 
our knowledge, demonstrate its truth or 
its untruth. 

We all of us know what it is to handle 
a new-born, or at least a quite young 
infant. We know what it is to lay the 
hand on the round little abdomen, the 
round, pulpy little head. We know where 
is life, where is pulp. We have seen 
blind puppies, blind kittens crawling. 
They give strange little cries. Whence 
these cries ? Are they mental exclama- 
tions ? As in a ventriloquist, they come 
from the stomach. There lies the wakeful 
centre. There speaks the first conscious- 



ness, the audible unconscious, in the squeak 
of these infantile things, which is so curi- 
ously and indescribably moving, reacting 
direct upon the great abdominal centre, 
the preconscious mind in man. 

There at the navel, the first rupture 
has taken place, the first break in con- 
tinuity. There is the scar of dehiscence, 
scar at once of our pain and splendour 
of individuality. Here is the mark of our 
isolation in the universe, stigma and seal 
of our free, perfect singleness. Hence the 
lotus of the navel. Hence the mystic 
contemplation of the navel. It is the 
upper mind losing itself in the lower first- 
mind, that which is last in consciousness 
reverting to that which is first. 

A mother will realize better than a 
philosopher. She knows the rupture which 
has finally separated her child into its 



own single, free existence. She knows 
the strange, sensitive rose of the navel : 
how it quivers conscious ; all its pain, 
its want for the old connection ; all its 
joy and chuckling exultation in sheer 
organic singleness and individual liberty. 

The powerful, active psychic centre in 
a new child is the great solar plexus of 
the sympathetic system. From this centre 
the child is drawn to the mother again, 
crying, to heal the new wound, to re- 
establish the old oneness. This centre 
directs the little mouth which, blind and 
anticipatory, seeks the breast. How could 
it find the breast, blind and mindless little 
mouth ? But it needs no eyes nor mind. 
From the great first-mind of the abdomen 
it moves direct, with an anterior know- 
ledge almost like magnetic propulsion, as 
if the little mouth were drawn or propelled 



to the maternal breast by vital magnetism, 
whose centre of directive control lies in 
the solar plexus. 

In a measure, this taking of the breast 
reinstates the old connection with the 
parent body. It is a strange sinking back 
to the old unison, the old organic con- 
tinuum a recovery of the pre-natal state. 
But at the same time it is a deep, /avid 
gratification in drinking-in the sustenance 
of a new individuality. It is a deep 
gratification in the exertion of a new, 
voluntary power. The child acts now 
separately from its own individual centre 
and exerts still a control over the adjacent 
universe, the parent body. 

So the warm life-stream passes again 
from the parent into the aching abdomen 
of the severed child. Life cannot progress 
without these ruptures, severances, cata- 



clysms ; pain is a living reality, not 
merely a deathly. Why haven't we the 
courage for life-pains ? If we could depart 
from our old tenets of the mind, if we 
could fathom our own unconscious sapi- 
ence, we should find we have courage 
and to spare. We are too mentally domes- 

The great magnetic or dynamic centre 
of first-consciousness acts powerfully at the 
solar plexus. Here the child knows beyond 
all knowledge. It does not see with the 
eyes, it cannot perceive, much less con- 
ceive. Nothing can it apprehend ; the 
eyes are a strange plasmic, nascent dark- 
ness. Yet from the belly it knows, with 
a directness of knowledge that frightens 
us and may even seem abhorrent. The 
mother, also, from the bowels knows her 
child as she can never, never know it 



from the head. There is no thought nor 
speech, only direct, ventral gurglings and 
cooings. From the passional nerve-centre 
of the solar plexus in the mother passes 
direct, unspeakable effluence and inter- 
communication, sheer effluent contact with 
the palpitating nerve-centre in the belly 
of the child. Knowledge, unspeakable 
knowledge interchanged, which must be 
diluted by eternities of materialization 
before they can come to expression. 

It is like a lovely, suave, fluid, creative 
electricity that flows in a circuit between 
the great nerve-centres in mother and 
child. The electricity of the universe is 
a sundering force. But this lovely polar- 
ized vitalism is creative. It passes in 
a circuit between the two poles of the 
passional unconscious in the two now 
separated beings. It establishes in each 



that first primal consciousness which is 
the sacred, all-containing head-stream of 
all our consciousness. 

But this is not all. The flux between 
mother and child is not all sweet unison. 
There is as well the continually widening 
gap. A wonderful rich communion, and 
at the same time a continually increasing 
cleavage. If only we could realize that 
all through life these are the two syn- 
chronizing activities of love, of creativity. 
For the end, the goal, is the perfecting 
of each single individuality, unique in 
itself which cannot take place without 
a perfected harmony between the beloved, 
a harmony which depends on the at-last- 
clarified singleness of each being, a single- 
ness equilibrized, polarized in one by the 
counter-posing singleness of the other. 

So the child. In its wonderful unison 



with the mother it is at the same time 
extricating itself into single, separate, 
independent existence. The one process, 
of unison, cannot go on without the other 
process, of purified severance. At first 
the child cleaves back to the old source. 
It clings and adheres. The sympathetic 
centre of unification, or at least unison, 
alone seems awake. The child wails with 
the strange desolation of severance, wails 
for the old connection. With joy and 
peace it returns to the breast, almost as 
to the womb. 

But not quite. Even in sucking it 
discovers its new identity and power. 
Its own new, separate power. It draws 
itself back suddenly ; it waits. It has 
heard something ? No. But another cen- 
tre has flashed awake. The child stiffens 
itself and holds back. What is it, wind ? 



Stomach-ache ? Not at all. Listen to 
some of the screams. The ears can hear 
deeper than eyes can see. The first scream 
of the ego. The scream of asserted isola- 
tion. The scream of revolt from connec- 
tion, the revolt from union. There is a 
violent anti-maternal motion, anti-every- 
thing. There is a refractory, bad-tem- 
pered negation of everything, a hurricane 
of temper. What then ? After such 
tremendous unison as the womb implies, 
no wonder there are storms of rage and 
separation. The child is screaming itself 
rid of the old womb, kicking itself in a 
blind paroxysm into freedom, into separate, 
negative independence. 

So be it, there must be paroxysms, 
since there must be independence. Then 
the mother gets angry too. It affects 
her, though perhaps not as badly as it 



affects outsiders. Nothing acts more 
direct on the great primal nerve-centres 
than the screaming of an infant, this 
blind screaming negation of connections. 
It is the friction of irritation itself. Every- 
body is implicated, just as they would 
be if the air were surcharged with electri- 
city. The mother is perhaps less affected 
because she understands primarily, or 
because she is polarized directly with the 
child. Yet she, too, must be angry, in 
her measure, inevitably. 

It is a blind, almost mechanistic effort on 
the part of the new organism to extricate 
itself from cohesion with the circumam- 
bient universe. It applies direct to the 
mother. But it affects everybody. The 
great centres of response vibrate with a 
maddening, sometimes unbearable fric- 
tion. What centres ? Not the great sym- 



pathetic plexus this time, but its corre- 
sponding voluntary ganglion. The great 
ganglion of the spinal system, the lumbar 
ganglion, negatively polarizes the solar 
plexus in the primal psychic activity of 
a human individual. When a child screams 
with temper, it sends out from the lumbar 
ganglion violent waves of frictional re- 
pudiation, extraordinary. The little back 
has an amazing power once it stiffens 
itself. In the lumbar ganglion the un- 
conscious now vibrates tremendously in 
the activity of sundering, separation. 
Mother and child, polarized, are primarily 
affected. Often the mother is so sure of 
her possession of the child that she is 
almost unmoved. But the child con- 
tinues, till the frictional response is roused 
in the mother, her anger rises, there is a 
flash, an outburst like lightning. And 



then the storm subsides. The pure act 
of sundering is effected. Each being is 
clarified further into its own single, indi- 
vidual self, further perfected, separated. 

Hence a duality, now, in primal con- 
sciousness in the infant. The warm rosy 
abdomen, tender with chuckling unison, 
and the little back strengthening itself. 
The child kicks away, into independence. 
It stiffens its spine in the strength of its 
own private and separate, inviolable exist- 
ence. It will admit now of no trespass. 
It is awake now in a new pride, a new 
self-assertion. The sense of antagonistic 
freedom is aroused. Clumsy old adhesions 
must be ruthlessly fused. And so, from 
the lumbar ganglion the fiery-tempered 
infant asserts its new, blind will. 

And as the child fights the mother 
fights. Sometimes she fights to keep her 



refractory child, and sometimes she fights 
to kick him off, as a mare kicks off her 
too-babyish foal. It is the great voluntary 
centre of the unconscious flashing into 
action. Flashing from the deep lumbar 
ganglion in the mother to the newly- 
awakened, corresponding centre in the 
child goes the swift negative current, 
setting each of them asunder in clean 
individuality. So long as the force meets 
its polarized response all is well. When 
a force flashes and has no response, there 
is devastation. How weary in the back 
is the nursing mother whose great centre 
of repudiation is suppressed or weak ; 
how a child droops if only the sympathetic 
unison is established. 

So, the polarity of the dynamic con- 
sciousness, from the very start of life ! 
Direct flowing and flashing of two con- 

65 E 


sciousness-streams, active in the bringing 
forth of an individual being. The sweet 
commingling, the sharp clash of opposition. 
And no possibility of creative develop- 
ment without this polarity, this dual 
circuit of direct, spontaneous, honest inter- 
change. No hope of life apart from this. 
The primal unconscious pulsing in its 
circuits between two beings : love and 
wrath, cleaving and repulsion, inglutina- 
tion and excremcntation. What is the 
good of inventing " ideal " behaviour ? 
How order the path of the unconscious ? 
For let us now realize that we cannot, even 
with the best intentions, proceed to order 
the path of our own unconscious without 
vitally deranging the life-flow of those con- 
nected with us. If you disturb the current 
at one pole, it must be disturbed at the 
other. Here is a new moral aspect to life. 





N asserting that the seat of conscious- 

ness in a young infant is in the abdomen, 
we do not pretend to suggest that all the 
other conscious-centres are utterly dor- 
mant. Once a child is born, the whole 
nervous and cerebral system comes awake, 
even the brain's memories begin to glim- 
mer, recognition and cognition soon begin 
to take place. But the spontaneous con- 
trol and all the prime developing activity 
derive from the great affective centres of 
the abdomen. In the solar plexus is the 
first great fountain and issue of infantile 
consciousness. There, beneath the navel, 
lies the active human first-mind, the prime 
unconscious. From the moment of con- 



ception, when the first nucleus is formed, 
to the moment of death, when this same 
nucleus breaks again, the first great active 
centre of human consciousness lies in the 
solar plexus. 

The v movement of development in any 
creature is, however, towards a florescent 
individuality. The ample, mature, un- 
folded individual stands perfect, perfect 
in himself, but also perfect in his har- 
monious relation to those nearest him and 
to all the universe. Whilst only the one 
great centre of consciousness is awake, in 
the abdomen, the infant has no separate 
existence, his whole nature is contained 
in the conjunction with the parent. As 
soon as the complementary negative pole 
arouses the voluntary centre of the lumbar 
ganglion, there is at once a retraction 
into independence and an assertion of 



singleness. The back strengths itself. 

But still the circuit of polarity, dual as 
it is, positive and negative from the posi- 
tive-sympathetic and the negative-volun- 
tary poles, still depends on the duality of 
two beings it is still extra-individual. 
Each individual is vitally dependent on 
the other, for the life circuit. 

Let us consider for a moment the kind 
of consciousness manifested at the two 
great primary centres. At the solar plexus 
the new psyche acts in a mode of attractive 
vitalism, drawing its objective unto itself 
as by vital magnetism. Here it drinks 
in, as it were, the contiguous universe, 
as during the womb-period it drank from 
the living continuum of the mother. It 
is darkly self-centred, exultant and positive 
in its own existence. It is all-in-all to 
itself, its own great subject. It knows 



no objective. It only knows its own vital 
potency, which potency draws the external 
object unto itself, subjectively, as the 
blood-stream was drawn into the foetus, 
by subjective attraction. Here the psyche 
is to itself the All. Blindly self-positive. 
This is the first mode of consciousness 
for every living thing fascinating in all 
young things. The second half of the 
same mode commences as soon as direct 
activity sets up in the lumbar ganglion. 
Then the psyche recoils upon itself, in its 
first reaction against continuity with the 
outer universe. It recoils even against its 
own mode of assimilatory unison. Even 
it must break off, interrupt the great 
psychic-assimilation process which goes 
on at the sympathic centre. It must 
recoil clean upon itself, break loose from 

any attachment whatsoever. And then 



it must try its power, often playfully. 

This reaction is still subjective. When 
a child stiffens and draws away, when it 
screams with pure temper, it takes no 
note of that from which it recoils. It 
has no objective consciousness of that 
from which it reacts, the mother princi- 
pally. It is like a swimmer endlessly 
kicking the water away behind him, with 
strong legs vividly active from the spinal 
ganglia. Like a man in a boat pushing 
off from the shore, it merely thrusts away, 
in order to ride free, ever more free. It 
is a purely subjective motion, in the 
negative direction. 

After our long training in objectivation, 
and our epoch of worship of the objective 
mode, it is perhaps difficult for us to 
realize the strong, blind power of the 
unconscious on its first plane of activity. 


It is something quite different from what 
we call egoism which is really mentally 
derived for the ego is merely the sum 
total of what we conceive ourselves to be. 
The powerful pristine subjectivity of the 
unconscious on its first plane is, on the 
other hand, the root of all our conscious- 
ness and being, darkly tenacious. Here 
we are grounded, say what we may. And 
if we break the spell of this first subjective 
mode, we break our own main root and 
live rootless, shiftless, groundless. 

So that the powerful subjectivity of the 
unconscious, where the self is all-in-all 
unto itself, active in strong desirous psychic 
assimilation or in direct repudiation of 
the contiguous universe ; this first plane 
of psychic activity, polarized in the solar 
plexus and the lumbar ganglion of each 
individual but established in a circuit 



with the corresponding poles of another 
individual : this is the first scope of life 
and being for every human individual, and 
is beyond question. But we must again 
remark that the whole circuit is established 
between two individuals that neither is 
a free thing-unto-itself and that the very 
fact of established polarity between the 
two maintains that correspondence between 
the individual entity and the external 
universe which is the clue to all growth 
and development. The pure subjectivity 
of the first plane of consciousness is no 
more selfish than the pure objectivity of 
any other plane. How can it be ? How 
can any form of pure, balanced polarity 
between two vital individuals be in any 
sense selfish on the part of one individual ? 
We have got our moral values all wrong. 
Save for healthy instinct, the moralistic 



human race would have exterminated 
itself long ago. And yet man must be 
moral, at the very root moral. The 
essence of morality is the basic desire to 
preserve the perfect correspondence be- 
tween the self and the object, to have no 
trespass and no breach of integrity, nor 
yet any refaulture in the vitalistic inter- 

As yet we see the unconscious active 
on one plane only and entirely dependent 
on two individuals. But immediately fol- 
lowing the establishment of the circuit of 
the powerful, subjective, abdominal plane 
comes the quivering of the whole system 
into a new degree of consciousness. And 
two great upper centres are awake. 

The diaphragm really divides the human 
body, psychically as well as organically. 
The two centres beneath the diaphragm 



are centres of dark subjectivity, centri- 
petal, assimilative. Once these are estab- 
lished, in the thorax the two first centres 
of objective consciousness become active, 
with ever-increasing intensity. The great 
thoracic sympathetic plexus rouses like a 
sun in the breast, the thoracic ganglion 
fills the shoulders with strength. There 
are now two planes of primary conscious- 
ness the first, the lower, the subjective 
unconscious, active beneath the dia- 
phragm, and the second upper, objective 
plane, active above the diaphragm, in 
the breast. 

Let us realize that the subjective and 
objective of the unconscious are not the 
same as the subjective and the objective 
of the mind. Here we have no concepts 
to deal with, no static objects in the shape 
of ideas. We have none of that tiresome 



business of establishing the relation be- 
tween the mind and its own ideal object, 
or the discriminating between the ideal 
thing-in-itself and the mind of which it 
is the content. We are spared that hateful 
thing-in-itself, the idea, which is at once 
so all-important and so nothing. We are 
on straightforward solid ground ; there is 
no abstraction. 

The unconscious subjectivity is, in its 
positive manifestation, a great imbibing, 
and in its negative, a definite blind rejec- 
tion. What we call an unconscious rejec- 
tion. This subjectivity embraces alike 
creative emotion and physical function. 
It includes alike the sweet and untcllable 
communion of love between the mother 
and child, the irrational reaction into 
separation between the two, and also the 
physical functioning of sucking and 



urination. Psychic and physical develop- 
ment run parallel, though they are for ever 
distinct. The child sucking, the child 
urinating, this is the child acting from 
the great subjective centres, positive and 
negative. When the child sucks, there is 
a sympathetic circuit between it and the 
mother, in which the sympathetic plexus 
in the mother acts as negative or submis- 
sive pole to the corresponding plexus in 
the child. In urination there is a corre- 
sponding circuit in the voluntary centres, 
so that a mother seems gratified, and is 
gratified, inevitably, by the excremental 
functioning of her child. She experiences 
a true polar reaction. 

Child and mother have, in the first 
place, no objective consciousness of each 
other, and certainly no idea of each other. 
Each is a blind desideratum to the other. 



The strong love between them is effectual 
in the great abdominal centres, where all 
love, real love, is primarily based. Of 
that reflected or moon-love, derived from 
the head, that spurious form gf love which 
predominates to-day, we do not speak 
here. It has its root in the idea : the 
beloved is a mental objective, endlessly 
appreciated, criticized, scrutinized, ex- 
hausted. This has nothing to do with 
the active unconscious. 

Having realized that the unconscious 
sparkles, vibrates, travels in a strong 
subjective stream from the abdominal 
centres, connecting the child directly with 
the mother at corresponding poles of 
vitalism, we realize that the unconscious 
contains nothing ideal, nothing in the 
least conceptual, and hence nothing in 
the least personal, since personality, like 



the ego, belongs to the conscious or mental- 
subjective self. So the first analyses are, 
or should be, so impersonal that the so- 
called human relations are not involved. 
The first relationship is neither personal 
nor biological a fact which psychoanalysis 
has not succeeded in grasping. 

For example. A child screams with 
terror at the touch of fur ; another child 
loves the touch of fur, and purrs with 
pleasure. How now ? Is it a complex ? 
Did the father have a beard ? 

It is possible. But all-too-human. The 
physical result of rubbing fur is to set up 
a certain amount of frictional electricity. 
Frictional electricity is one of the sunder- 
ing forces. It corresponds to the volun- 
tary forces exerted at the lower spinal 
ganglia, the forces of anger and retraction 
into independence and power. An over- 



sympathetic child will scream with fear 
at the touch of fur ; a refractory child 
will purr with pleasure. It is a reaction 
which involves even deeper things than 
sex the primal constitution of the ele- 
mentary psyche. A sympathetically over- 
balanced child has a horror of the electric- 
frictional force such as is emitted from 
the fur of a black cat, creature of rapacity. 
The same delights a fierce-willed child. 

But we must admit at the same time 
that from earliest days a child is subject 
to the definite conscious psychic influences 
of its surroundings and will react almost 
automatically to a conscious-passional sug- 
gestion from the mother. In this way 
personal sex is prematurely evoked, and 
real complexes are set up. But these 
derive not from the spontaneous uncon- 
scious. They are in a way dictated from 



the deliberate, mental consciousness, even 
if involuntarily. Again they are a result 
of mental subjectivity, self-consciousness 
so different from the primal subjectivity 
of the unconscious. 

To return, however, to the pure uncon- 
scious. When the upper centres flash 
awake, a whole new field of consciousness 
and spontaneous activity is opened out. 
The great sympathetic plexus of the breast 
is the heart's mind. This thoracic plexus 
corresponds directly in the upper man to 
the solar plexus in the lower. But it is 
a correspondence in creative opposition. 
From the sympathetic centre of the breast 
as from a window the unconscious goes 
forth seeking its object, to dwell upon it. 
When a child leans its breast against its 
mother it becomes filled with a primal, 
awareness of her not of itself desiring 

81 F 


her or partaking of her but of her as 
she is in herself. This is the first great 
acquisition of primal objective knowledge, 
the objective content of the unconscious. 
Such knowledge we call thp treasure of 
the heart. When the ancients located 
the first seat of consciousness in the heart, 
they were neither misguided nor playing 
with metaphor. For by consciousness they 
meant, as usual, objective consciousness 
only. And from the cardiac plexus goes 
forth that strange effluence of the self 
which seeks and dwells upon the beloved, 
lovingly roving like the fingers of an 
infant or a blind man over the face of 
the treasured object, gathering her mould 
into itself and transferring her mould 
for ever into its own deep unconscious 
psyche. This is the first acquiring of 
objective knowledge, sightless, unspeak- 



ably direct. It is a dwelling of the child's' 
unconscious within the form of the mother, 
the gathering of a pure, eternal impres- 
sion. So the soul stores itself with dyna- 
mic treasures ; it verily builds its own 
tissue of such treasure, the tissue of the 
developing body, each cell stored with 
creative dynamic content. 

The breasts themselves are as two eyes. 
We do not know how much the nipples 
of the breast, both in man and woman, 
serve primarily as poles of vital conscious 
effluence and connection. We do not 
know how the nipples of the breast are 
as fountains leaping into the universe, or 
as little lamps irradiating the contiguous 
world, to the soul in quest. 

But certainly from the passional con- 
scious-centre of the breast goes forth the 
first joyous discovery of the beloved, the 



first objective discovery of the contiguous 
universe, the first ministration of the self 
to that which is beyond the self. So, 
functionally, the mother ministers with 
the milk of her breast. But this is a 
yielding to the great lower plexus, the 
basic solar plexus. It is the breast as 
part also of the alimentary system a 
special thing. 

In sucking the hands also come awake. 
It is strange to notice the pictures by the 
old masters of the Madonna and Child, 
Sometimes the strange round belly of the 
Infant seems the predominant mystery- 
centre, and sometimes from the tiny breast 
it is as if a delicate light glowed, the light 
of love. As if the breast should illumine 
the outer world in its seeking administer- 
ing love. As if the breast of the Infant 
glimmered its light of discovery on the 



adoring Mother, and she bowed, submissive 
to the revelation. 

The little hands and arms wave, cir- 
culate, trying to touch, to grasp, to know. 
To grasp m caress, not to reive. To 
grasp in order to identify themselves with 
the cherished discovery, to realize the 
beloved. To cherish, to realize the be- 
loved. To administer the outward-seeking 
self to the beloved. We give this the 
exclusive name of love. But it is indeed 
only the one direction of love, the out- 
going from the lovely centre of the breast 
the nipples seeking, the hands delicately, 
caressively exploring, the eyes at last 
waking to perception. The eyes, the 
hands, these wake and are alert from the 
centre of the breast. But the ears and 
feet move from the deep lower centres 
the recipient ears, imbibing vibrations, 



the feet which press the resistant earth, 
controlled from the powerful lower ganglia 
of the spine. And thus great scope of 
activity opens, in the hands that wave 
and explore, the eyes that try to perceive, 
the legs, the little knees that thrust, 
thrust away, the small feet that curl and 
twinkle upon themselves, ready for the 
obstinate earth. 

And so, also a wholeness is established 
within the individual. The two fields of 
consciousness, the first upper and the 
first lower, are based upon a correspond- 
ence of polarity. The first great complex 
circuit is now set up within the individual, 
between the upper and lower centres. 
The individual consciousness has now its 
own integral independent existence and 
activity, apart from external connection. 
It has its right to be alone. 




CONSCIOUSNESS develops on succes- 
^-^sive planes. On each plane there is 
the dual polarity, positive and negative, 
of the sympathetic and voluntary nerve 
centres. The first plane is established 
between the poles of the sympathetic 
solar plexus and the voluntary lumbar 
ganglion. This is the active first plane 
of the subjective unconscious, from which 
the whole of consciousness arises. 

Immediately succeeding the first plane 
of subjective dynamic consciousness arises 
the corresponding first plane of objective 
consciousness, the objective unconscious, 
polarized in the cardiac plexus and the 
thoracic ganglion, in the breast. There 



is a perfect correspondence in difference 
between the first abdominal and the first 
thoracic planes. These two planes polar- 
ize each other in a fourfold polarity, 
which makes the first great field of indivi- 
dual, self-dependent consciousness. 

Each pole of the active unconscious 
manifests a specific activity and gives 
rise to a specific kind of dynamic or 
creative consciousness. On each plane, 
the negative voluntary pole complements 
the positive sympathetic pole, and yet 
the consciousness originating from the 
complementary poles is not merely nega- 
tive versus positive, it is categorically 
different, opposite. Each is pure and 
perfect in itself. 

But the moment we enter the two 
planes of corresponding consciousness, 
lower and upper, we find a whole new range 



of complements. The upper, dynamic- 
objective plane is complementary to the 
lower, dynamic-subjective. The mystery 
of creative opposition exists all the time 
between the two planes, and this unison 
in opposition between the two planes 
forms the first whole field of consciousness. 
Within the individual the polarity is 
fourfold. In a relation between two indi- 
viduals the polarity is already eightfold. 

Now before we can have any sort of 
scientific, comprehensive psychology we 
shall have to establish the nature of the 
consciousness at each of the dynamic 
poles the nature of the consciousness, 
the direction of the dynamic-vital flow, 
the resultant physical-organic develop- 
ment and activity. This we must do 
before we can even begin to consider a 
genuine system of education. Education 



now is widely at sea. Having ceased to 
steer by the pole-star of the mind, having 
ceased to aim at the cramming of the 
intellect, it veers hither and thither hope- 
lessly and absurdly. Educatiqn can never 
become a serious science until the human 
psyche is properly understood. And the 
human psyche cannot begin to be under- 
'stood until we enter the dark continent 
of the unconscious. Having begun to 
explore the unconscious, we find we must 
go from centre to centre, chakra to chakra, 
to use an old esoteric word. We must 
patiently determine the psychic manifesta- 
tion at each centre, and moreover, as we 
go, we must discover the psychic results 
of the interaction, the polarized inter- 
action between the dynamic centres both 
within and without the individual. 

Here is a real job for the scientist, a 


job which eternity will never see finished 
though even to-morrow may see it well 
begun. It is a job which will at last free 
us from the most hateful of all shackles, 
the shackles, of ideas and ideals. It is a 
great task of the liberators, those who 
work for ever for the liberation of 
the free spontaneous psyche, the effective 

In these few chapters we hope to hint 
at the establishment of the first field of 
the unconscious at the nature of the 
consciousness manifested at each pole 
and at the already complex range of 
dynamic polarity between the various 
poles. So far we have given the merest 
suggestion of the nature of the first plane 
of the unconscious and have attempted 
the opening of the second or upper 
plane. We profess no scientific exactitude, 



particularly in terminology. We merely 
wish intelligibly to open a way. 

To balance the solar plexus wakes the 
great plexus of the breast. In our era 
this plexus is the great planet of our 
psychic universe. In the previous sym- 
pathetic era the flower of the universal 
blossomed jnjjie navel. But since Egypt 
the sun of creative activity beams from 
the breast, the heart of the supreme Man. 
This is to us the source of light the loving 
heart/ the Sacred Heart. Against this 
we contrast the devoviring darkness of 
the lower man, the devouring whirlpool 
beneath the navel. Even theosophists 
don't realize that the universal lotus 
really blossoms in the abdomen that 
our lower man, our dark, devouring whirl- 
pool, was once the creative source, in 
human estimation. 



But in calling the heart the sun, the 
source of light, we are biologically correct 
even. For the roots of vision are in the 
cardiac plexus. But if we were to con- 
sider the heart itself, not its great nerve 
plexus, we should have to go further 
than the nervous system. If we had to 
consider the whole lambent blood-stream, 
we should have to descend too deep for 
our unpractised minds. Suffice it here to 
hint that the solar plexus is the first and 
main clue to the great alimentary-sexual 
activity in man, an activity at once 
functional and creatively emotional, whilst 
the cardiac plexus is first and main clue 
to the respiratory system and the active- 
productive manifestations. The mouth 
and nostrils are gates to each great centre, 
upper and lower even the breasts have 
this duality. Yet the clue to respiration 



and hand activity and vision is in the 
breast, while the clue to alimentation and 
passion and sex is in the lower centres. 
The duality goes so far and is so profound. 
And the polarity ! The great organs, as 
well as the lymphatic glands, depend 
each on its own specific centre of the 
unconscious ; each is derived from a 
specific dynamic conscious-clue, what we 
might almost call a soul-cell. The inherent 
unconscious, or soul, is the first nucleus 
subdivided, and from its own subdivisions 
produced, from its own still-creative con- 
stellated nuclei, the organs, glands, nerve- 
centres of the human organism. This is 
our answer to materialism and idealism 
alike. The nuclear unconscious brought 
forth organs and consciousness alike. And 
the great nuclei of the unconscious still 
lie active in the great living nerve-centres, 



which nerve centres, from the original 
solar-plexus to the conclusive brain, form 
one great chain of dual polarity and 
amplified consciousness. 

All this is a mere incoherent stammer- 
ing, broken first-words. To return to the 
direct path of our progress. It is not 
merely a metaphor, to call the cardiac 
plexus the sun, the Light. It is metaphor 
in the first place, because the conscious 
effluence which proceeds from this first 
upper centre in the breast goes forth and 
plays upon its external object, as phos- 
phorescent waves might break upon a 
ship and reveal its form. The transferring 
of the objective knowledge to the psyche 
is almost the same as vision. It is root- 
vision. It happens before the eyes open. 
It is the first tremendous mode of appre- 
hension, still dark, but moving towards 



light. It is the eye in the breast. Psychi- 
cally, it is basic objective apprehension. 
Dynamically, it is love, devotional, admin- 
istering love. 

Now we make already a discrimination 
between the two natures, even of this 
first upper consciousness. First from the 
breast flows the devotional, self-outpouring 
of love, love which gives its all to the 
beloved. And back again returns to the 
ingathered objective consciousness, the 
fir^t objective content of the psyche. 

This argues the dual polarity. From 
the positive pole of the cardiac plexus 
flows out that effluence which we call 
selfless love., It is really self-devoting 
love, not self-less. This is the one form 
of love we recognize. But from the strong 
ganglion of the shoulders proceeds the 
negative circuit, which searches and ex- 



plores the beloved, bringing back pure 
objective apprehension, not critical, in 
the mental sense, and yet passionally 


Let us discriminate between the two 

upper poles. From the sympathetic heart 
goes forth pure administering, like sun- 
beams. But from the strong thoracic 
centre of the shoulders is exerted a strong 
rejective force, a force which, pressing 
upon the object of attention, in the mode 
of separation, succeeds in transferring to 
itself the impression of the object to which 
it has attended. This is the other half of 
devotional love perfect knowledge of the 

Now this knowledge in itself argues a 
contradistinction between the lover and 
the beloved. It is the very mould of the 
contradistinction. It is the impress upon 

07 G 


the lover of that which was separate from 
him, resistant to him, in the beloved. 
Objective knowledge is always of this 
kind a knowledge based on unchangeable 
difference, a knowledge truly of the gulf 
that lies between the two beings nearest 
to each other. 

In two kinds, then, consists the activity 
of the unconscious on the first upper 
plane. Primal is the blissful sense of 
ineffable transfusion with the beloved, 
which we call love, and of which our era 
has perhaps enjoyed the full. It is a 
mode of creative consciousness essentially 
objective, but yet it preserves no object 
in the memory, even the dynamic memory. 
It is a great objective flux, a streaming 
forth of the self in blissful departure, like 
sunbeams streaming. 

If this activity alone worked, then the 



self would utterly depart from its own 
integrity ; it would pass out and merge 
with the beloved which passing out and 
merging is the goal of enthusiasts. But 
living beingg are kept integral by the 
activity of the great negative pole. From 
the thoracic ganglion also the unconscious 
goes forth in its quest of the beloved. 
But what does it go to seek ? Real 
objective knowledge. /It goes to find out 
the wonders which itself does not contain, 
and to transfer these wonders, as by 
impress, into itself. It goes out to deter- 
mine the limits of its own existence also. 
This is the second half of the activity 
of upper or self-less or spiritual love. 
There is a tremendous great joy in explor- 
ing and discovering the beloved. For 
what is the beloved ? She is that which 
I myself am not. Knowing the breach 



between us, thc^ uncloseable gulf ? I in the 
same breath realize heYjeatures. In the 
first mode of the upper consciousness there 
is perfect surpassing of all sense of division 
beween the self and the belaved. In the 
second mode the very discovery of the 
features of the beloved contains the full 
realization of the irreparable, or unsur- 
passable, gulf. This is objective know- 
ledge, as distinct from objective emotion. 
[t contains always the element of self- 
amplification, as if the self were amplified 
by knowledge in the beloved. It should 
also contain the knowledge of the limits 
of the self^ 

So it is with the Infant. Curious indeed 
is the look on the face of the Holy Child, 
in Leonardo's pictures, in Botticelli's, 
even in the beautiful Filippo Lippi. It 

is the Mother who crosses her hands 


on her breast, in supreme acquiescence, 
recipient ; it is the Child who gazes, with 
a kind of objective, strangely discerning, 
deep apprehension of her, startling to 
northern eyes. It is a gaze by no means 
of innocence, Mt oJ^jprpfQund^pre-YisuaJ. 
discerning. So plainly is the child looking 
across the gulf and fixing the gulf by 
very intentness of pre-visual apprehen- 
sion, that instinctively the ordinary 
northerner finds Him antipathetic. It 
seems almost a cruel objectivity. 

Perhaps between lovers, in the objective 
way of love, either the voluntary separa- 
tive mode predominates, or the sympathe- 
tic mode of communion one or the other. 
In the north we have worshipped the 
latter mode. But in the south it is 
different ; the objective sapient manner 

of love seems more natural. Moreover 


in the face of the Infant lingers nearly 
always the dark look of the pristine mode 
of consciousness, the powerful self-cent- 
ring subjective mode, established in the 
lower body the so-called sensual mode. 

But take our own children. A small 
infant, as soon as it really begins to direct 
its attention. How often it seems to be 
gazing across a strange distance at the 
mother ; what a curious look is on its 
face, as if the mother were an object set 
across a far gulf, distinct however, dis- 
cernible, even obtrusive in her need to 
be apprehended. A mother will chase 
away this look with kisses. But she 
cannot chase away the inevitable effluence 
of separatist, objective apprehension. She 
herself sometimes will fall into a half- 
trance, and the child on her lap will 

resolve itself into a strange and separate 


object. She does not criticize or analyse 
him. She does not even perceive him. 
But as if rapt, she apprehends him lying 
there, an unfathomable and inscrutable 
objective, outside herself, never to be 
grasped or included in herself. She seizes 
as it were a sudden and final, objective 
impression of him. And the conclusive 
sensation is one of finality. Something 
final has happened to her. She has the 
strange sensation of unalterable certainty, 
a sensation at once profoundly gratifying 
and rather appalling. Sh^possesses some- 
thing, a certain entity of primal, pre- 
conscious knowledge. Let the child be 
what he may, her knowledge of him is 
her own, for ever and final. It gives her 
a sense of wealth in possession, and of 
power. It gives her a sense also of fatal- 
ity. From the very satisfaction of the 



objective finality derives the sense of 
fatality. It is a knowledge of the other 
being, but a knowledge which contains at 
the same time a final assurance of the 
eternal and insuperable gulf t which lies 
between beings the isolation of the self 

Thus the first plane of the upper con- 
sciousness the outgoing, the sheer and 
unspeakable bliss of the sense of union, 
communion, at-oneness with the beloved 
and then the complementary objective 
realization of the beloved, the realization 
of that which is apart, different. This 
realization is like riches to the objective 
consciousness. It is, as it were, the adding 
of another self to the own self, through 
the mode of apprehension. Through the 
mode of dynamic objective apprehension, 
which in our day we have gradually come 



to call imagination, a man may in his time 
add on to himself the whole of the universe, 
by increasing pristine realization of the 
universal. This in mysticism is called the 
progress to infinity that is, in the modern, 
truly male mysticism. The older female 
mysticism means something different by 
the infinite. 

But anyhow there it is. The attaining 
to the Infinite, about which the mystics 
have rhapsodized, is a definite process in 
the developing unconscious, but a process 
in the development only of the objective- 
apprehensive centres an exclusive process, 

A soul cannot come into its own through 
that love alone which is unison. If it 
stress the one mode, the sympathetic 
mode, beyond a certain point, it breaks 
its own integrity, and corruption sets in 



in the living organism. On both planes 
of love, upper and lower, the two modes 
must act complementary to one another, 
the sympathetic and the separatist. It 
is the absolute failure to see this, that 
has torn the modern world into two halves, 
the one half warring for the voluntary, 
objective, separatist control, the other 
for the pure sympathetic. The individual 
psyche divided against itself divides the 
world against itself, and an unthinkable 
progress of calamity ensues unless there 
be a reconciliation. 

v The goal of life is the coming to perfec- 
tion of each single individual. This can- 
not take place without the tremendous 
interchange of love from all the four great 
poles of the first, basic field of conscious- 
ness. There must be the twofold pas- 
sionate flux of sympathetic love, subjective- 



abdominal and objective-devotional, both. 
And there must be the twofold passional 
circuit of separatist realization, the lower, 
vital self-realization, and the upper, intense 
realization o the other, a realization which 
includes a recognition of abysmal otherness. 
To stress any one mode, any one inter- 
change, is to hinder all, and to cause 
corruption in the end. The human psyche 
must have strength and pride to accept 
the whole fourfold nature of its own 
creative activity. 




aim of this little book is merely 
* to establish the smallest foothold in 
the swamp of vagueness which now goes 
by the name of the unconscious. At last 
we form some sort of notion "what the 

IMs that active 

spontaneity which rouses in each individual 
orgSLnisiIL.^! tlxe^jnoment x> fusion of the 
parent nuclei, and which, in polarized 
connection with th^^external univejgg,' 
gradually evolves or__elabqrates its_own 
individual j)syche_ and corpus, bringing 
both mind ancLbody forth from itself. 
Thus it wpuld^ seem that the term uncon- 
scious is only another word for life. But 
life is a general force, whereas the uncon- 



scious is essentially single and unique in 
each individual organism ; it^ isj^he active, 
self-evolving soul bringing forth its own 
incarnation and self-manifestation. Which 
incarnation And self-manifestation seems 
to be the whole goal of the unconscious 
soul : the whole goal of life. v'Thus it is 
that the unconscious brings forth not only 
consciousness, but tissue and organs also. 
And all the time the working of each organ 
depends on the primary spontaneous- 
conscious centre of which it is the issue 
if you like, the soul-centre. And con- 
sciousness is like a web woven finally in 
the mind from the various silken strands 
spun forth from the primal centre of the 

But the unconscious is never an abstrac- 
tion, never to be abstracted. It is never an 
ideal entity. It is always concrete. In 



the very first instance, it is the glinting 
nucleus of the ovule. And proceeding 
from this, it is the chain or constellation 
of nuclei which derive directly from this 
first spark. And further still it is the 
great nerve-centres of the human body, 
in which the primal and pristine nuclei 
still act direct. The nuclei are centres of 
spontaneous consciousness. It seems as 
if their bright grain were germ-conscious- 
ness, 0^iQusness_germinating for ever. 
If that is a mystery, it is not my fault. 

Certainly it is not mysticism. It is obyi- 


ous, demonstrable scientific fact, to be 
verified under the microscope and within 
the human psyche, subjectively and object- 
ively, both. Of course, the subjective 
verification is what men kick at. Thin- 
minded idealists cannot bear any appeal 

to their bowels of comprehension, 


We can quite tangibly deal with the 
human unconscious. We trace its source 
and centres in the great ganglia and nodes 
of the nervous system. We establish the 
nature of the spontaneous consciousness 
at each of these centres ; we determine 
the polarity and the direction of the 
polarized flow. And from this we know 
the motion and individual manifestation 
of the psyche itself; we also know the 
motion and rhythm of the great organs 
of the body. For at every point psyche 
and functions are so nearly identified that 
only by holding our breath can we realize 
their duality in identification a polarized 
duality once more. But here is no place 
to enter the great investigation of the 
duality and polarization of the vital- 
creative activity and the mechanico- 

material activity. The two are two in 


one, a polarized quality. They are un- 
thinkably different. 

On the first field of human conscious 
the first plane of the unconscious we 
locate four great spontaneous, centres, two 
below the diaphragm, two above. These 
four centres control the four greatest 
organs. And they give rise to the whole 
basis of human consciousness. Func- 
tional and psychic at once, this is their 
first polar duality. 

But the polarity is further. The hori- 
zontal division of the diaphragm divi4es 
man for ever into his individual duality, 
the duality of the upper and lower man, 
the two great bodies of upper and lower 
consciousness and function. This is the 
horizontal line. 

The vertical division between the volun- 
tary and the sympathetic systems, the 


line of division between the spinal system 
and the great plexus-system of the front 
of the human body, forms the second 
distinction into duality. It is the great 
difference between the soft, recipient front 
of the body and the wall of the back. 
The front of the body is the live end of 
the magnet. The back is the closed 
opposition. And again there are two 
parallel streams of function and conscious- 
ness, vertically separate now. This is 
the vertical line of division. And_the 
horizontal ln4,tb^vcrtical inefnn 

the cross of all existence andin. And 

even this is not mysticism no more than 
the ancient symbols used in botany or 

On the first field of human conscious- 
ness, which is the basis of life and con- 
sciousness, are the four first poles of 

113 H 


spontaneity. These have their fourfold 
polarity within the individual, again 
figured by the cross. But the individual 
is never purely a thing-by-himself. He 
cannot exist save in polarized relation to 
the external universe, a relation both 
functional and psychic-dynamic. Devel- 
opment takes place only from the polar- 
ized circuits of the dynamic unconscious, 
and these circuits must be both individual 
and extra-individual. There must be the 
circuit of which the complementary pole 
is external to the individual. 

That is, in the first place there must 
be the other individual. There must be a 
polarized connection with the other indivi- 
dual or even other individuals. On the 
first field there are four poles in each 
individual. So that the first, the basic 
field of extra-individual consciousness con- 



tains eight poles an eightfold polarity, a 
fourfold circuit. It may be that between 
two individuals, even mother and child, 
the polarity may be established only four- 
fold, a dual circuit. It may be that one 
circuit of spontaneous consciousness may 
never be fully established. This means, 
for a child, a certain deficiency in develop- 
ment, a psychic inadequacy. 

So we are again face to face with the 
basic problem of human conduct. No 
human being can develop save through the 
polarized connection with other beings. 
This circuit of polarized unison precedes 
all mind and all knowing. It is anterior 
to and ascendant over the human will. 
And yet the mind and the will can both 
interfere with the dynamic circuit, an 
idea, like a stone wedged in a delicate 
machine, can arrest one whole process of 



psychic interaction and spontaneous 

How then ? Man doth not live by bread 
alone. It is time we made haste to settle 
the bread question, which after all is 
only the A B C of social economies, and 
proceeded to devote our attention to this 
much more profound and vital question : 
how to establish and maintain the circuit 
of vital polarity from which the psyche 
actually develops, as the body develops 
from the circuit of alimentation and 
respiration. We have reached the stage 
where we can settle the alimentation and 
respiration problems almost off-hand. 
But woe betide us, the unspeakable agony 
we suffer from the failure to establish and 
maintain the vital circuits between our- 
selves and the effectual correspondent, 
the other human being, other human 



beings, and all the extraneous universe. 
The tortures of psychic starvation which 
civilized people proceed to suffer, once 
they have solved for themselves the bread- 
and-butter problem of alimentation, will 
not bear thought. Delicate, creative 
desire, sending forth its fine vibrations Jn 
search of th__true pole of magnetic rest 
in another human being or beings, Jiiow 
it is thwarted^ jjisulated_by_ja j^hole jset 
of jndia-rubbejLJdeas and[ ideals _and^coii- 
ventions, till jevery^ form^ _of^ perversion 
andjdeath-jdesire sets in ! How can we 
escape neuroses ? Psychoanalysis won't 
tell us. But a mere shadow of understand- 
ing of the true unconscious will give us 
the hint. 

The amazingly difficult and vital busi- 
ness of human relationship has been 
almost laughably underestimated in our 



epoch. All this nonsense about love and 
unselfishness, more crude and repugnant 

than savage f etish- worship. v ^ove is a 

thing to be learned, through centuries of 
patient effort. It is a difficyltj complex 
maintenance of individual integrity 
throughout the incalculable processes jpf 
interhuman-polaritjf. Even on the first 
great plane of consciousness, four prime 
poles in each individual, four powerful 
circuits possible between two individuals, 
and each of the four circuits to be estab- 
lished to perfection and yet maintained* 
in pure equilibrium with all the others. 
Who can do it ? Nobody. Yet we have 
all got to do it, or else suffer ascetic tor- 
tures of starvation and privation or of 
distortion and overstrain and slow collapse 
into corruption. The whole of life is one 
long, blind effort at an established polarity 



with the outer universe, human and non- 
human ; and the whole of modern life is 
a shrieking failure. It is our own fault. 
N/The actual evolution of the individual 
psyche is a result of the interaction between 
the individual and the outer universe. 
Which means that just as a child in the 
womb grows as a result of the parental 
blood-stream which nourishes the vital 
quick of the foetus, so does every man 
and woman grow and develop as a result 
of the polarized flux between the spon- 
taneous self and some other self or selves. 
It is the circuit of vital flux between 
itself and another being or beings which 
brings about the development and evolu- 
tion of every individual psyche and phy- 
sique. This is a law of life and creation, 
from which we cannot escape. Ascetics 
and voluptuaries both try to dodge this 



main condition, and both succeed perhaps 
for a generation. But after two genera- 
tions all collapses. Man doth not live by 
bread alone. He lives even more essen- 
tially from the nourishing creative flow 


between himself and another or others. 

This is the reality of the extra-individual 
circuits of polarity, those established be- 
tween two or more individuals. But a 
corresponding reality is that of the internal, 
purely individual polarity the polarity 
within a man himself of his upper and 
lower consciousness, and his own voluntary 
and sympathetic modes. Here is a four- 
fold interaction within the self. And 
from this fourfold reaction within the self 
results that final manifestation which we 
know as mind, mental consciousness. 

The brain is, if we may use the word, 

the terminal instrument of the dynamic 


consciousness. It transmutes what is a 
creative flux into a certain fixed cypher. It 
prints off, like a telegraph instrument, the 
glyphs and graphic representations a which 
we call percepts, concepts, ideas. It pro- 
duces a new reality the ideal. The idea 
is another static entity, another unit of 
the mechanical-active and materio-static 
universe. It is thrown off from life, as 
leaves are shed from a tree, or as feathers 
fall from a bird. Ideas are the dry, 
unliving, insentient plumage which inter- 
venes between us and the circumambient 
universe, forming at once an insulator and 
an instrument for the subduing of the 
universe. The mind is the instrument of 
instruments ; it is not a creative reality. 

Once the mind is awake, being in itself 
a finality, it feels very assured. " The 

word became flesh, and began to put on 


airs," says Norman Douglas wittily. It 
is exactly what happens. Mentality, being 
automatic in its principle like the machine, 
begins to assume life. It begins to affect 
life, to pretend to make and unmake life. 
" In the beginning was the Word." This 
is the presumptuous masquerading of the 
mind. The Word cannot be the beginning 
of life. It is the end of life, that which 
falls shed. The mind is the dead end of 
life. But it has all the mechanical force 
of the non-vital universe. It is a great 
dynamo of super-mechanical force. Given 
the will as accomplice, it can even arrogate 
its machine-motions and automatizations 
over the whole of life, till every tree 
becomes a clipped teapot and every man 
a useful mechanism. So we see the brain, 
like a great dynamo and accumulator, 
accumulating mechanical force and presum- 


ing to apply this mechanical force-control 
to the living unconscious, subjecting every- 
thing spontaneous to certain machine- 
principles called ideals or ideas. 

And the t human will assists in this 
humiliating and sterilizing process. We 
don't know what the human will is. But 
we do know that it is a certain faculty 
belonging to every living organism, the 
faculty for self-determination. It is a 
strange faculty of the soul itself, for its 

own direction. The will is indeed the 

* - 

faculty which every individual possesses 
from the very moment of conception, for 
exerting a certain control over the vital 
and automatic processes of his own evolu- 
tion. It does not depend originally on 
mind. Originally it is a purely spon- 
taneous control-factor of the living uncon- 
scious. It seems as if, primarily, the will 



and the conscience were identical, in the 
premental state. It seems as if the will 
were given as a great balancing faculty, 
the faculty whereby automatization is 
prevented in the evolving psyche. The 
spontaneous will reacts at once against the 
exaggeration of any one particular circuit 
of polarity. Any vital circuit a fact 
known to psychoanalysis. And against 
this automatism, this degradation from 
the spontaneous- vital reality into the 
mechanic-material reality, the human soul 
must always struggle. And the will is 
the power which the unique self possesses 
to right itself from automatism. 

Sometimes, however, the free psyche 
really collapses, and the will identifies 
itself with an automatic circuit. Then a 
complex is set up, a paranoia. Then 
incipient madness sets in. If the identifi- 


cation continues, the derangement be- 
comes serious. There may come sudden 
jolts of dislocation of the whole psychic 
flow, like epilepsy. Or there may come 
any of the known forms of primary mad- 

The second danger is that the will shall 
identify itself with the mind and become 
an instrument of the mind. The same 
process of automatism sets up, only now 
it is slower. The mind proceeds to assume 
control over every organic-psychic circuit. 
The spontaneous flux is destroyed, and a 
certain automatic circuit substituted. 
Now an automatic establishment of the 
psyche must, like the building of a machine, 
proceed according to some definite fixed 
scheme, based upon certain fixed prin- 
ciples. And it is here that ideals and 
ideas enter. They are the machine-plan 



and the machine-principles of an auto- 
matized psyche. 

So, humanity proceeds to derange itself, 
to automatize itself from the mental 
consciousness. * It is a process of derange- 
ment, just as the fixing of the will upon 
any other primary process is a derange- 
ment. It is a long, slow development in 
madness. Quite justly do the advanced 
Russian and French writers acclaim mad- 
ness as a great goal. It is the genuine 
goal of self-automatism, mental-conscious 

True, we must all develop into mental 
consciousness. But mental-consciousness 
is not a goal ; it is a cul-de-sac. It pro- 
vides us only with endless appliances 
which we can use for the all-too-difficult 
business of coming to our spontaneous - 
creative fullness of being. It provides us 



with means to adjust ourselves to the 
external universe. It gives us further 
means for subduing the external, materio- 
nechanical universe to our great end of 
Creative life. t And it gives us plain indi- 
'ations of how to avoid falling into 
iutomatism, hints for the applying of the 
will, the loosening of false, automatic 
fixations, the brave adherence to a pro- 
found soul-impulse. This is the use of 
the mind a great indicator and instru- 
ment. The mind as author and director 
of life is anathema. 

So, the few things we have to say about 
the unconscious end for the moment. 
There is almost nothing said. Yet it is a 
beginning. Still remain to be revealed 
the other great centres of the unconscious. 
We know four : two pairs. In all there 
are seven planes. That is, there are six 



dual centres of spontaneous polarity, and 
then the final one. That is, the great 
upper and lower consciousness is only 
just broached the further heights and 
depths are not even hinted p\ Nay, in 
public it would hardly be allowed us to 
hint at them. There is so much to know, 
and <*|ery step of the progress in knowledge 
is a death to the hiu^an idealism which 
governs us now so ruthlessly and vilely. 
It must die, and we will break free. But 
what tyranny is so hideous as that of an 
automatically ideal humanity ? 

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frame md London