Philosophy of the Unconscious

by Eduard Von Hartmann

  Two pervading laws here display themselves; the first is, that the maternal instinct cares for the young animal as long as it is unable to care for itself; the second, that this time of nonage or childhood in general lasts the longer the higher the class stands in the animal scale. This difference is, on the one hand, based on the simpler conditions of the nutrition of the lower animals (especially aquatic animals); on the other hand, on the metamorphoses when the earliest life-period is passed in quite another form and under other nutritive conditions (mostly in the form of a lower stage). There is still, however, undoubtedly an unexplained remainder, which is especially evident if we confine our attention to the mammalia, and compare, e.g., the duration of the infancy of a rabbit, a cat, and a horse. From these first two laws the following conclusion may be drawn: The instinct of maternal love gains in general greater significance and range the higher we ascend in the animal scale, a scale graduated, however, not zoologically but psychologically.

  While we see the majority of fishes and amphibia persist in dead indifference to their young, some insects exhibit a higher maternal love in conformity with their higher mental activity. Only see how tenderly ants and bees nourish, feed, and protect their eggs, nay, even their still imperfectly developed larvæ; how some spiders carry their young about and carefully feed them (as the hen her chickens). Among birds, the maternal care attains a high degree; certain classes of birds, e.g., some birds of prey and birds of song, decidedly surpassing in mind the general run of mammals. The self-sacrificing courage with which even the smallest birds defend their young against every enemy; the self-renunciation with which they bring them food whilst they themselves often starve and grow lean; the readiness to sacrifice themselves with which they bare their breast and body of feathers to make a warm couch for their naked little ones; the patience with which they afterwards instruct them in flying, in catching insects, and other dexterities which they need for independent life; the impatience to see the young just as clever as themselves,—all these are the clearest proofs of a deeply rooted impulse; whilst the complete extinction of this tender fondness when the young become independent, nay, the conversion of the same into hostility, shows that not custom or conscious choice, but an unconscious necessity is the source of this impulse.

  The point of instruction in particular has been hitherto far too much overlooked, for the animals which stand mentally higher learn, in fact, much more through the instruction of their parents than one thinks, since Nature never makes use of double means to an end, and refuses instinct where it has granted the means for conscious performance or acquisition. Penguins entice their young, when they will not follow them into the water, to a rocky prominence, and then push them down. Eagles and falcons guide their offspring to higher and higher flights, to flight in circles and to evolutions, as well as to swoop down on their prey, for the latter purpose flying over them and dropping dead, ofttimes even small living animals, which the young ones are only allowed to devour if they have themselves caught them. But as surely as the method of this instruction is a conscious mental product of these animals, so surely is the impulse to instruct their young in the main instinct.—As in higher mammals infancy lasts longer, so not merely is the care of the mother, but also her instruction more comprehensive. Let any one observe how a cat educates its young ones, flattering and rewarding, putting them right and punishing, whether it is not the faithful image of human education by uncultivated mothers; a parallel confirmed even in the slightest traits, e.g., in the enjoyment which the mother visibly exhibits in the amusingly knowing consciousness of her superiority.

  We partially see already in birds a chemical preparation of the food in the maternal crop. This instinct is fully developed in the case of the mammal, whose lacteal glands begin their secretion long before birth, a secretion which is increased by the sight of the young, diminished by their absence. That which among birds is perceivable only in a very rudimentary form, but among mammals is exhibited in the inheritance of special maternal qualities or peculiarities of character, in the fright of the pregnant and their capricious appetites, to wit, the immediate unconscious reciprocity between the soul of the mother and the child, the possession of the infant’s soul by the mother, this appears continued in a modified way after birth, and only gradually disappears. Thus the peculiar phenomenon of contagious visions nowhere occurs more easily than between the mother and her nursling, and both when pregnant and even after delivery, mothers, whose nature has not been spoilt by culture, possess a marvellous divination of their children’s needs. Just as the wasp, which opens the hole to convey new food to its larvæ when the original stock has been consumed, so the mother guesses when her child requires food, and awakes when the child is in want, whereas no noise can disturb the sleep of fatigue. But, as said before, this direct communication between the mind of mother and of child pretty quickly disappears; only sometimes under extraordinary circumstances, e.g., in dangerous illnesses of the child, may it be seen to revive.

  The question now is, whether in mankind maternal love is really anything different from what it is among the brutes; whether anything else but instinct can bring it to pass that the most reasonable and most sedate women, who have already enjoyed the highest treasures of mental culture, are all at once prepared to undergo, with real, heartfelt joy, and for whole months, the sacrificing nurture, the peevishness and sordidness, the toyings and silliness, without any response whatever on the part of the child, which, for the first months, is nothing more than a flesh doll, slavering and befouling its swaddling-clothes, which, at the most, turns its eyes by reflex action to the light and instinctively stretches out its arms towards its parent. Only see how such a rational woman is completely lost in admiration of her child, which is only with the greatest difficulty to be distinguished from any other; and how she who, in former days, had made clever criticisms on Sophocles and Shakespeare, now will be beside herself with joy because the little one so soon croaks A. And with all this the woman does not, as the man might, undergo all these inconveniences in hope of what the child may hereafter become, but she is simply absorbed in the present joy and maternal delight. If that is not instinct, then I don’t know what instinct is. Let any one ask himself whether a poor nursery-maid would endure all that drudgery and fatigue for the sake of a daily wage of a couple of pence if her instinct did not already point to this occupation.

  That the maternal care lasts so long in the case of the human child, is merely a special case of the above-mentioned law, and lies in this, that children of four years old would sooner be run over in the street than get out of the way, whilst a young cat gets out of the way as soon as it can see. What is more natural than that the protecting instinct of the mother should serve as a providence to the child, and that the little one should instinctively cling to its mother’s gown? All animals feed, nurse, and look after their young until they can feed themselves, and is it likely man, with his lesser fertility, should make an exception to this general law? And when can a child maintain itself? Certainly not until puberty. Accordingly, the instinctive parental care must at least last till then. Animals teach their young the dexterities which they need in order to earn their living, and should not man do the same? Among animals, too, the kind of instruction is partly the result of conscious thought, but the instruction itself is natural impulse; and can it be otherwise among men, because the skill and knowledge which man needs for earning a maintenance are somewhat greater than among animals? But it is indeed agreed that in the whole animal kingdom no such psychological leap takes place as from the highest animal to the moderately civilised man, consequently the things which man must acquire, in proportion to what he can instinctively do, are more considerable than among the highest animals, because his conscious mind is just adapted for these performances, and, accordingly, an instinct for them would be a superfluity. Nature, however, does nothing in vain. Doubtless, however, the didactic instinct is necessity in the parents, because without instruction the young would
perish before acquiring their powers, and the human race owes to this higher faculty of learning and this stronger didactic instinct, in union with a more perfect language, its capability of progressing indefinitely, and to this its whole position and significance in Nature.

  Among animals, male and female have the same employments. It is otherwise with the civilised human being, where the man in particular has to earn for the family, and is pre-eminently fitted for the education especially of the male posterity. Only here and there among animals does the male sex participate in caring for posterity. Thus the male salmon makes a furrow for the eggs of the female, which it fills up when they are fertilised. With most monogamous birds, the male helps in building the nest, alternately broods or feeds the brooding female, defends the eggs, and takes part in the nurture, nourishment, and protection of the young. The like also takes place in the case of man. It is a common phenomenon that all little children are extremely repugnant to men, and this aversion ceases at once if they themselves have any. It scarcely admits of doubt that there is an instinct of paternal affection, if feeble, which is also proved by the tender love of fathers to those children who, in consequence of their miserable bodily and mental condition, would under other circumstances have only excited aversion and contempt, or at the most pity. But, nevertheless, I believe that, in paternal love, partly duty, decency, and good breeding, partly habit, partly conscious friendly inclination, furnish the main motives, and that instinct, on the one hand, only manifests itself in early youth, on the other, in moments of danger to the child. Lastly, it should be observed that a true paternal love—I mean one which exceeds what decency and good-breeding demands, and which the custom of the environment permits to grow—is a much rarer phenomenon than one is inclined to assume, though certainly not so rare, by a long way, as the reputed love of brothers and sisters. What, however, really exists of such father’s love, which does not simply show itself in moments of danger, but is always there, is conscious friendship, united with the conscious reflection that no one will care for his child if he does not, for the child for whose existence he is responsible—a reflection which alone can give strength for the greatest sacrifices. From all this it is explicable that human children, even after their education has ended, will not be so strange to their parents as the young of animals, for through the so much more prolonged infancy custom has time to forge its chains, and if there be any spiritual harmony between parents and children, a certain degree of friendship will arise with the aid of habit. But lastly, the instinct of parental love is never entirely extinguished in the case of mankind, because the parents, as long as they live, always have either the possibility of making sacrifices for the welfare of their children or of helping them out of danger; for whilst the brute has entirely to rely upon itself, man is only in a position to live humanly in society. To which must be added, in conclusion, that men in advanced age repeat the comedy in the case of their grandchildren, which is not the case with animals.

  If in the man paternal love is less of an instinct, so much the more is the impulse to establish a household, and to fulfil his destiny as father of a family, although he thereby ruins and makes unhappy himself and the girl whom he marries, whilst unmarried they might both have had enough whereon to live comfortably. I do not speak here of love, nor of the sexual impulse in general; but where the former is entirely wanting, and the latter would be far from affording any sufficient motive, the impulse springs up in the mature years of a man’s life to set up a household; and however clearly the poor devil may see that he will have to starve in consequence, whilst as single he has a fair competency, still the marriage comes off. It is the same impulse which bids the young four or five year old stallion part from the family of his parents, along with some of his sisters, to form a family of his own, and which compels the bird to build its nest. They know as little as that poor wretch, that the pains and deprivations which are instinctively imposed upon them have no other purpose than to make possible the maintenance of the race. It is this unsatisfied impulse which makes old bachelors feel so uncomfortable; and though they may see a hundred times that they would not be better off in the married state, all things considered, yet the pain of this unsatisfied instinct is not to be reasoned away, just because it is instinct.

  The consideration of the instinct of love should now follow. This point is, however, so important, that I shall give it a chapter to itself.

  1 Beaumarchais rated this factor so highly that he jestingly said: Boir sans soif, et faire l’amour en tout temps, c’est ce qui distingue l’homme de la bête. A much better statement of specific difference, at all events, than “thought;” for the rest, not quite true, since the anthro poid apes have the non-periodicity of heat in common with man.

  II.

  THE UNCONSCIOUS IN SEXUAL LOVE.

  THE stamens of plants incline when their pollen is ripe, and shed it on the stigma. Fishes pour their spawn on the eggs of their own species when they find them in great numbers; the salmon, moreover, makes a furrow for its female. The male cuttlefish, on coming in contact with their females, throw off an arm elaborated into a generative organ, which, penetrating the latter, performs the reproductive act. In November, river crawfish fasten under the belly of the females pouches filled with seed, which in the spring fertilises the mature eggs. The male spiders take up the seminal fluid, which trickles from their sexual organs, with an extremely complicated apparatus contained in the last hollow joint of their tentacles, and by help of the same apply it to the aperture of the female. The male embraces the female frog and discharges its sperm, whilst the female simultaneously deposits the ova. The singing-bird applies the opening of its spermatic duct to the female anus, and animals possessed of a penis introduce the same into the female vagina. When fishes pour the spawn, which they feel impelled to discharge, only on the eggs of their own kind, when species of animals in which male and female are of very different forms (as, e.g., glow-worms) still find each other without fail in order to copulate, and when the male mammal, in obedience to an irresistible impulse, always introduces its penis into the female vagina of its own species, are we to suppose that there are really two different causes at work, or is it not rather the working of the same Unconscious, which, on the one hand, harmoniously fashions the sexual parts, and, on the other, as instinct impels to their right use—the same unconscious clairvoyance which in creation, as in use, adapts the means to an end, which does not appear in consciousness?

  Would man, at whose command are so many means for satisfying the physical impulse, all equally efficacious with coitus, be likely to discharge the inconvenient, disgusting, shameless, reproductive function, did not an instinct always urge him anew, often as he has experienced that this mode of satisfaction yields him, in fact, no higher sensuous enjoyment than any other? But many do not attain even to this much insight, because, in spite of experience, they always measure future enjoyment according to the strength of the impulse, or are so possessed by the impulse during the act, that they never attain the experience. It might, perhaps, be replied, that man frequently desires intercourse although he is aware of the impossibility of procreation, e.g., with the notoriously infertile or prostitutes, or when, as in illicit connections, he seeks to prevent procreation; but to such we reply that the knowledge or intention of consciousness has no direct influence on the instinct, since the design of procreation lies outside consciousness, and only the willing of the means to the unconscious end (as in all instincts) appears in consciousness. That the impulse to sexual union is an instinct which manifests itself spontaneously, and is by no means to be regarded as a consequence of the experience that a pleasure is to be expected from this union, appears from the fact that the sexual impulse as instinct is universal in the animal and vegetable kingdom, whereas venereal organs, which link a sexual pleasure to the act of copulation, are only to be found at a tolerably advanced stage of the animal kingdom. The instinct of sexual intercourse is then something far earlier and more original i
n the history of organisation, since all organisms destitute of venereal organs are sufficiently impelled by it alone, without the aid of sensibility. It is, however, tolerably plain why the Unconscious deems special venereal organs necessary in the case of beings whose consciousness is far more highly developed; for the more consciousness attains independent importance, the greater is the risk of its thwarting the demands of instinct, the more desirable does a bait become to entice to the performance of instinctive actions. A proof that the reproductive instinct is no mere result of physical craving in the generative organs may be found in the above-mentioned example of the treading of birds (Chap. iii. A. p. 82), and finally in the phenomenon that the strength of the sexual and physical urgency are to a certain degree independent of one another. For one finds human beings with a strong inclination to the other sex, whilst their physical impulse is so small that it almost borders on impotence; and conversely there are persons of strong physical impulse, and yet with little affection for the other sex. This is due to the fact that the physical impulse is dependent on the accidental physical organisation of the generative organs, but the metaphysical impulse is an instinct which wells up from the Unconscious. That does not, however, preclude, on the one hand, the metaphysical impulse from being more vehemently aroused by a stronger physical impulse, and, on the other hand, the strength of the physical impulse while the organism is being fashioned being conditioned by the strength of the metaphysical impulse. Accordingly the independence only obtains within certain limits. Phrenology also recognises the distinctness of the two impulses, for whilst the physical craving can manifestly only be sought for in the organisation of the generative organs and the irritability of the whole nervous system, phrenology—with what right is of no consequence—seeks to localise the sexual impulses in the cerebellum and circumjacent parts.