“Meaning” plays such an important part in the mental reactions of pathological and everyday life that I feel we must study it a little more closely before proceeding with our theme.
The idea horse[[158]] as the content of consciousness includes more than the primary and secondary sensory images which constitute a perception of an animal with four legs distinguished anatomically from other animals: The idea includes the meaning of a particular kind of animal possessing certain functions, useful for particular purposes and occupying a particular place in civilization, etc. We are distinctly conscious of this meaning; and although we may abstract more or less successfully the visual image of the animal from the meaning, and attend to the former alone, the result is an artifact. Likewise we may as an artifice abstract, to a large degree, the meaning from the image, keeping the latter in the background, and attend to the meaning.
That meaning—just as much as the sensory image of an object—is part of the conscious content of an idea becomes apparent at once, the moment the setting becomes altered and an object is collocated with a new set of experiences (knowledge regarding it). X, for example, has been known to the world as a pious, god-fearing, moral man, a teacher of the Christian religion. My perception of him, so far as made up of images, is, properly speaking, that which distinguishes him anatomically from other men of my acquaintance, that by which I recognize him as X and not as Y. But my perception also has a distinctly conscious meaning, that of a Christian man. This meaning also distinguishes him in his qualities from other men. Now it transpires to every one’s astonishment that X is a foul, cruel, murderer of women—a Jack-the-Ripper. My perception of him is the same but it has acquired an entirely different meaning. A bestial, villainous meaning has replaced the Christian meaning. So almost all objects have different meanings in different persons’ minds, or at different times in the same person’s mind, according to the settings (experiences) with which they are collocated. My perception of A has the meaning of physician, while one of his family perceives him as father or husband. My perception of a snake, it may be, has the meaning of a loathsome, venomous animal, while a naturalist’s perception may be that of a vertebrate representing a certain stage of evolution, and a psychologist holding certain theories may perceive it with a meaning given by those theories, viz.: as a sexual symbol.
This fact of meaning becomes still more obvious when we reflect that the meaning of a perception, as of A’s personality as a physician or father, may occupy the focus of attention while the images of his face, voice, etc., may sink into the background.
Every one is agreed then that every idea or combination of ideas has “meaning” of some sort. Even nonsense syllables have in a psychological sense some meaning, which may be an alliteration of sound, or a symbolism of nonsense (e. g., “fol-de-rol-di-rol-dol-day”) or as suitable tests for psychological experiments. I am speaking now, of course, of meaning as dealt with by psychology as a content of consciousness, and not as dealt with by logic. Every one also will probably agree that the content of an idea is a composite of sensory elements (images) and meaning—I would like to say of perception and meaning; but the use of two abstract terms is likely to lead to a juggling with words by turning attention away from the concrete facts for which the terms stand, and by connoting a sharp distinction between perception and meaning which, as I observe the facts, does not hold. Indeed the common though useful habit of psychologists of treating meaning as an abstract symbol without specific reference to those elements of the content of consciousness for which it stands has, it seems to me, led to considerable confusion of thought.
Mr. Hoernlé, who has given us one of the clearest expositions of idea and meaning that I have read,[[159]] designates that constituent of an idea which is the psychical image of an object (e. g., “the visual perception of a horse”) by the term “sign.” “Signs,” he states “are always sensational in nature, whether they are actual sensations (as in sense-perception) or ideas (images or ‘revived’ sensations).” Accordingly an idea is a composite of sign and meaning, or, as Mr. Hoernlé has well expressed it: “Both the idea[[160]] and its meaning, then, must be present in consciousness. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they form together a complex psychical whole, a ‘psychosis,’ of which the different elements, however, enjoy different degrees of prominence in consciousness or draw upon themselves different amounts of attention.... Normally we apperceive merely the meaning, and the image or sign remains in the background, in the shade as it were. But of course we can make the image or sign the special object of attention; we can apperceive it and correspondingly the meaning falls into the background. But it does not disappear; it remains in consciousness.” And again, “every idea is a concrete whole of sign and meaning, in which the meaning, even when unanalyzed and ‘implicit’ is what is essential and prominent in consciousness. The sign on the other hand which we saw reason to identify with certain sensational elements in this conscious experience is normally subordinate and I have called this concrete idea a ‘psychic whole’....”
I quote these passages from Mr. Hoernlé as they are admirably clear statements of the theory, but as descriptions they are a very incomplete analysis of the content of ideas, and fall far short of what we require to know when dealing with the problem of mental mechanisms. It is all very well to speak of meaning in this general way; but to rest content with such an abstract term is to only present the problem and there stop short. Mr. Hoernlé rests content with the negative statement that meaning “does not consist in images and other words.” What then does it consist in?
It must be admitted that the problem is a very difficult one and therefore it is, I suppose, that most psychologists, as if scenting danger, seem to dodge the question and rest content to use meaning as a symbol like the unknown x and y of algebra. If meaning is a part of the content of consciousness it must be analyzable into specific conscious elements (images, thoughts, words, feelings or what not) representing to some extent and in some way past experiences.
Obviously a full rounded-out psychology of meaning must include an analysis of the content of meaning.[[161]] I have no intention of entering upon this task here and it is not my business. It would, however, be of very great assistance in solving many of the problems of abnormal psychology if the psychology of meaning were better worked out. But conversely, I would say, considerable light on the psychology of meaning can be derived from the study of abnormal conditions, and of the mental phenomena artificially provoked by hypnotic procedures. Some of the observations which I shall presently cite contribute, I believe, to this end.
Permit me also to point out—as the point is one which has considerable bearing on our theme—that the descriptive statement that ideas are a composite of two distinct elements, perception (images, signs) and meaning, is inadequate in another respect; it is too static and schematic. Although it is convenient to distinguish between perception and meaning, they shade into one another and indeed there does not seem to be any justification for regarding them as other than one dynamic process. As we have seen, perception is made up of a primary sensory image of an object combined with a number of secondary images. This in itself is a “psychic whole”, and, as I view it, contains meaning. My perception of a watch contains secondary images which give it the meaning of a watch and make it something more than a visual image. It may have a still larger and different meaning, that of a souvenir of a dead friend, and in this larger meaning the perception of the watch becomes subordinate, as a sign or group of images, and sinks into the background, while the added meaning occupies the focus of attention. Indeed the primary image of a perception may sink into relative insignificance in the background, while the secondary images become all-important and practically constitute the actual perception (or idea) as a psychic whole. Consider, for instance, what different secondary images (and meaning) are in the focus and how the primary image of the word “son” (spoken or written) almost disappears, according as the context shows it to be my son or your son; and how correspondingly different are those ideas. And so with a wider filial meaning of son. It is safe to say that King Lear’s idea of “daughter” had not the filial meaning conventionally ascribed to that relationship.