In the first place we will consider this material from Freud's view-point of causality; in other words, we will "interpret" it, to use Freud's expression. A wish has been left unfulfilled from the day before the dream. In the dream this wish is realised in the symbolical apple scene. But why is this realisation disguised and hidden under a symbolic image instead of being expressed in a distinctly sexual thought? Freud would refer to the unmistakable sense of guilt shown up by the material, and say the morality that has been inculcated in the young man from childhood is bent on repressing such wishes, and to that end brands the natural craving as immoral and reprehensible. The suppressed immoral thought can therefore only achieve expression by means of a symbol. As these thoughts are incompatible with the moral content of the conscious ego, a psychic factor adopted by Freud called the Censor, prevents this wish from passing undisguised into consciousness.
Reviewing the dream from the standpoint of finality, which I contrast with that of Freud, does not—as I wish to establish explicitly—involve a denial of the dream's causæ, but rather a different interpretation of the associative material collected around the dream. The material facts remain the same, but the standard by which they are measured is altered. The question may be formulated simply as follows: What is this dream's purpose? What should it effect? These questions are not arbitrary, in as much as they may be applied to every psychic activity. Everywhere the question of the "why" and "wherefore" may be raised.
It is clear that the material added by the dream to the previous day's erotic experience, chiefly emphasises the sense of guilt in the erotic act. The same association has already been shown to be operative in another experience of the previous day, in the meeting with his casual lady acquaintance, when the feeling of a bad conscience was automatically and inexplicably aroused, as if, in that instance, too, the young man had done something wrong. This experience also plays a part in the dream, which is even intensified by the association of additional, appropriate material; the erotic experience of the day before, being depicted by the story of the Fall which was followed by such a severe punishment.
I maintain that there exists in the dreamer an unconscious propensity or tendency to conceive his erotic experiences as guilty. It is most characteristic that the association with the Fall of Man should ensue, the young man having never really grasped why the punishment should have been so drastic. This association throws light upon the reasons why the dreamer did not think simply, "I am doing what is not right." Obviously he does not know that he might condemn his own conduct as morally wrong. This is actually the case. His conscious belief is that his conduct does not matter in the least morally, as all his friends were acting in the same way; besides, for other reasons too, is unable to understand why a fuss should be made about it.
Whether this dream should be considered full or void of meaning depends upon a very important question, viz. whether the standpoint of morality, handed down to us through the ages by our forefathers is held to be full or void of meaning. I do not wish to wander off into a philosophical discussion of this question, but would merely observe that mankind must obviously have had very strong reasons for devising this morality, otherwise it would be truly incomprehensible why such restraints should be imposed upon one of man's strongest cravings. If we attach due value to this fact, we are bound to pronounce this dream to be full of meaning, for it reveals to the young man the necessity of facing his erotic conduct boldly from the view point of morality. Primitive races have in some respects extremely strict legislation concerning sexuality. This fact proves that sexual morality is a not-to-be-neglected factor in the soul's higher functions, but deserves to be taken fully into account. In the case in question it should be added, that the young man—influenced by his friends' example—somewhat thoughtlessly let himself be guided exclusively by his erotic cravings, unmindful of the fact that man is a morally responsible being and must perforce submit—voluntarily or involuntarily—to a morality that he himself has created.
In this dream we can discern a compensating function of the unconscious, consisting in the fact that those thoughts, propensities, and tendencies of a human personality, which in conscious life are too seldom recognised, come spontaneously into action in the sleeping state, when to a large extent the conscious process is disconnected.
The question might certainly be raised, of what use is this to the dreamer if he does not understand the dream?
To this I must remark that to understand is not an exclusively intellectual process, for—as experience proves—man may be influenced—nay, even very effectually convinced—by innumerable things, of which he has no intellectual understanding. I will merely remind my readers of the efficacy of religious symbols.
The example given above might suggest the thought that the function of dreams is a distinctly "moral" one. Such it appears to be in this case, but if we recall the formula according to which dreams contain the subliminal materials of a given moment, we cannot speak simply of a "moral" function. For it is worthy of note that the dreams of those persons whose actions are morally unexceptionable, bring materials to light that might well be characterised as "immoral" in the current meaning of that term. Thus it is significant that St. Augustine was glad that God did not hold him responsible for his dreams. The unconscious is the unknown of a given moment, therefore it is not surprising that all those aspects that are essential for a totally different point of view should be added by dreams to the conscious psychological factors of a given moment. It is evident that this function of dreams signifies a psychological adjustment, a compensation essential for properly balanced action. In the conscious process of reflection it is indispensable that, so far as possible, we should realise all the aspects and consequences of a problem, in order to find the right solution. This process is continued automatically in the more or less unconscious state of sleep, wherever—as our previous experience seems to show—all those other points of view occur to the dreamer (at least by way of allusion) that during the day were underestimated or even totally ignored; in other words, were comparatively unconscious.
As regards the much-discussed symbolism of dreams, the value attached to it varies according to whether the standpoint of causality or of finality is adopted. According to Freud's causal view point it proceeds from a craving, viz. from the suppressed dream-wish. This craving is always somewhat simple and primitive, and is able to disguise itself under manifold forms. For instance, the young man in question might just as well have dreamt that he had to open a door with a key, or that he had to travel by aeroplane, or that he was kissing his mother, etc. From this standpoint all those things would have had the same meaning. In this way, the typical adherents of Freud's school have come to the point of interpreting—to give a gross instance—almost all long objects in dreams as phallic symbols.