The reason why the man at the moment of the accident experienced the terrorizing thoughts that he did, and why he continued to experience them, must be sought in associated conserved experiences of his past. These experiences were the psycho-genetic factors. It would take us too far out of the way to consider this problem, which belongs to the obsessions, at this time, but, as I have touched upon it, I may say in passing that the accident would have awakened no sense of terror and no emotional shock if a psychological torch had not already been prepared. This torch was made up of ideas previously imbibed from the social environment and made ready to be set aflame by the match set to it by the accident. In the unconsciousness of this man were written in neurographic records the dangers attending accidents of this kind and dangers which still threatened his present and future.

Likewise the insistence of the memory can be related to a setting of associated thoughts which gave meaning to his perception of himself as one affected, as he believed, with a serious injury threatening his future. His fear was also, therefore, a fear of the present and future. Thus not only the experiences of the accident itself became organized into a group and conserved as a memory, but were organized with memories of still other experiences which stood in a genetic relation to them. If it were necessary I could give from my personal observation numerous examples of this mode of organization of complexes through emotional experiences and of their reproduction as automatic memories.

An historical example of complex-organizing of this kind is narrated in Tallentyre’s delightful life of Voltaire. Toward the end of Voltaire’s famous residence at the court of Frederick the Great, as the latter’s guest, one of those pestiferous friends who cannot help repeating disagreeable personal gossip for our benefit swore to Voltaire to having heard Frederick remark, “I shall want him (Voltaire) at the most another year; one squeezes the orange and throws away the rind.” From that moment a complex of emotional ideas was formed in Voltaire’s mind, that, do what he would, he could not get rid of. He wrote it to his friends, thought about it, dreamed about it; he tried to forget it, but to no purpose; it would not “down”; the rind kept constantly rising. It brought with it every memory of Frederick’s character and actions that fitted the remark.

Voltaire, like many men of genius, was a neurasthenic and his ideas with strong emotional tones tended to become strongly organized and acquire great force. “The orange rind haunts my dreams,” he wrote; “I try not to believe it.... We go to sup with the king and are gay enough sometimes;—the man who fell from the top of a steeple and found the fall through the air soft and said, ‘Good, provided it lasts,’ is not a little as I am.” The emotional complex which so tormented Voltaire that it literally became an obsession was a recurring memory. The experience had been strongly registered and conserved, owing to the emotional tone, but the reason why there was so much emotion, and why it absorbed so many associated ideas into itself and kept recurring would undoubtedly have been found to lie, if we could have probed Voltaire’s mind, in its settings—his previous stormy experiences with Frederick, his knowledge of Frederick’s character, his previous apprehensions of what later actually occurred, and, most probably, self-reproach for his own behavior, the consequences of which he feared to face. All this, conserved as neurograms, was set ablaze by the remark and furnished not only the emotion but the material for the content of the complex. These previous experiences, therefore, stood in genetic relation to the latter, excited the emotional reaction of anger, resentment and fear, and prevented the complex from subsiding. The exciting cause for each recurrence of the complex was, of course, some associated stimulus from the environment, or train of thought.

Another interesting historical example is the foolish complex which is said to have disturbed the pretty Mme. Leclerc (Pauline Bonaparte, who was afterward the Princess Borghese). This fascinating and beautiful woman was enjoying her triumph at a ball. Seated in a little boudoir off the ball-room she was entertaining “guests who came to admire her and fill her cup to overflowing. There was, however, a Mme. de Contades, who had been deserted by her own cavaliers at the appearance of Pauline. Approaching, now, on the arm of her escort, she said in a tone sufficiently loud so that every one, including Pauline, could hear perfectly: ‘Mon Dieu, what a misfortune! Oh, what a pity! She would be so pretty but for that!’ ‘But for what?’ asked her cavalier. All eyes were turned upon poor Mme. Leclerc, who thought there must be something the matter with her coiffure and began to redden and suffocate. ‘But do you not see what I mean?’ persisted Mme. de Contades, with the cold cruelty of a jealous woman. ‘What a pity! Yes, truly, how unfortunate! Such a really pretty head to have such ears! If I had ears like those I would have them cut off. Yes, positively, they are like those of a pug dog. You who know her, Monsieur, advise her to have it done; it would be a charitable act.’ Pauline, more beautiful than ever in her blushes, rose, tears blinding her eyes, then sank back upon the sofa, hiding her face in her hands, sick with mortification and shame. As a matter of fact, her ears were not ugly, only a little too flat. From that day, however, she always dressed her hair over them or concealed them under a bandeau, as in the well-known painting of her.”[[141]]

Fixed ideas relating to physical blemishes are not uncommonly observed as obsessions in psychasthenics. With our knowledge of such psychical manifestations it is easy to imagine Pauline’s antecedent thoughts regarding her own flat ears, and repugnance to this defect in others, her suspicions of unfavorable criticisms and of not being admired, etc., all organized with the instinct of self-abasement (emotion of subjection) and forming a sentiment of self-depreciation and shame in her mind.

2. The outbreak of such automatic memories is particularly prone to occur in persons of a particular temperament (the apprehensive temperament, in which the biological instinct of fear is the paramount factor), in fatigue states, and in so-called neurotic people—neurasthenics, psychasthenics, and hysterics. In such people the organization of the complex probably has been largely a previously subconscious incubating process, as in the phenomenon of “sudden religious conversion.” Later the sudden suggestion or awakening by whatsoever means of an idea, which has roots in the antecedent thoughts engaged in the subconscious process, readily gives occasion for the outbreak of the complex. The latter then excites the emotional reaction of anger, horror, antipathy, fear, jealousy, etc., which becomes incorporated in the complex. When once formed the automatism becomes the psychosis. The following case is an illustration:

L. E. W., forty-nine years of age, farmer and lawyer by occupation, a man of strenuous disposition, broke down under stress and strain with severe but common symptoms of mental and physical fatigue modified and exaggerated by apprehensions of incurable illness. At the end of a year there developed scruples and jealous suspicions of his wife’s chastity, not persistent but recurring from time to time in attacks, and always awakened by a suggestion of some kind—an associated idea, a remark heard, an act of some kind on the part of the wife, etc. Between the attacks he was entirely free from such thoughts, but during the attack, which came on with the usual suddenness, these thoughts—always the same doubts, suspicions, reasonings, jealousy, and fear—were dominating, imperative, and painful. An open-minded, frank, intelligent man he fully realized that his scruples were entirely unfounded and even characterized them as “delusions.” It was interesting, so clear was he in this respect, to hear him discuss his attacks between times with his wife, as if they were recurrent appendicitis. The attacks would pass off in a short time after discussing his scruples with his wife, and then he became natural again; they involved great suffering and he feared, as people thus afflicted so often do, that they spelled impending insanity. And yet it was easy to determine that they were only imperative recurrent memories, conserved complexes emerging from the unconscious. He had been married twenty-two years. He was of a jealous nature, and before marriage it annoyed him to think that his wife had been courted by other men, that she wrote them letters, etc. He began to think of her as a flirt, that she was going to jilt him, and to have misgivings of her character. He grew jealous and suspicions of possible unchastity worried him, but reasoning with himself he would say, “O, pshaw! it is an abominable suspicion,” “an hallucination,” and put the thought out of his mind, as he said. But we know he really put the thought into his mind to be conserved in the unconscious, as a complex of chastity scruples, and there undergo incubation and further development. Later he had had spells of jealousy during his married life but no true imperative ideas until he broke down in health, and then, as he himself expressed it, “the devil got the upper hand and said, ‘I’ve got you now.’”

The devil was the complex organized twenty-two years previously with the emotion of jealousy[[142]] centered about the idea of his wife and the whole neurographically conserved. The impulsive force of the emotion was constantly striving to awaken and give expression to the unconscious complex. He was able to hold it in check, to repress it, by the conflicting force of other sentiments until these became weakened by the development of the psychasthenic state. Then these latter controlling elements of personality were repressed in turn whenever the more powerful jealousy complex was awakened. The whole mechanism was undoubtedly more complicated than this, in that the jealousy complex had a setting in certain unsophisticated and puritanical ideas of conduct (brought to light in the analysis) which gave a peculiar meaning (for him) to his wife’s actions. So long as this setting persisted it would be next to impossible to modify the jealousy complex.

Whatever the mechanism, ideas with strong emotional tones (particularly fear, anger, jealousy, and disgust), no matter how absurd or repellent, or unjustified, and whether acceptable or unacceptable, tend to become organized and welded into a complex which is thereby conserved. The impulsive force of the incorporated emotion tends to awaken and give expression to the complex whenever stimulated. The recurrence of such an organized complex so far as it is reproduction is, of course, in principle, memory, and an imperative memory or fixed idea. Whether the complex shall be awakened as such a recurrent memory, or shall function as a dissociated subconscious process, producing other disturbances, or remain quiescent in the unconscious, depends upon other factors which we need not now consider.