concerted effort of all the psychic forces. But it is a much abused
privilege of the conscious activity that it is allowed to hide from us
all other activities wherever it participates.

It will hardly be worth while to take up the historical significance of
dreams as a special subject. Where, for instance, a chieftain has been
urged through a dream to engage in a bold undertaking the success of
which has had the effect of changing history, a new problem results only
so long as the dream, regarded as a strange power, is contrasted with
other more familiar psychic forces; the problem, however, disappears
when we regard the dream as a form of expression for feelings which are
burdened with resistance during the day and which can receive
reinforcements at night from deep emotional sources. But the great
respect shown by the ancients for the dream is based on a correct
psychological surmise. It is a homage paid to the unsubdued and
indestructible in the human mind, and to the demoniacal which furnishes
the dream-wish and which we find again in our unconscious.

Not inadvisedly do I use the expression "in our unconscious," for what
we so designate does not coincide with the unconscious of the
philosophers, nor with the unconscious of Lipps. In the latter uses it
is intended to designate only the opposite of conscious. That there are
also unconscious psychic processes beside the conscious ones is the
hotly contested and energetically defended issue. Lipps gives us the
more far-reaching theory that everything psychic exists as unconscious,
but that some of it may exist also as conscious. But it was not to prove
this theory that we have adduced the phenomena of the dream and of the
hysterical symptom formation; the observation of normal life alone
suffices to establish its correctness beyond any doubt. The new fact
that we have learned from the analysis of the psychopathological