While the psychoanalyst, of course, knows of this therapeutic tendency to extricate the patient from his unhealthy phantasies, he also knows just how far this mere extricating of neurotic patients from their phantasies goes. As physicians, we should never think of preferring a difficult and complicated method, assailed by all authorities, to a simple, clear and easy one without good reason. I am perfectly well-acquainted with hypnotic suggestion, and with Dubois’ method of persuasion, but I do not use these methods, on account of their relative inadequacy. For the same reason, I do not use the direct “ré-éducation de la volonté” as the psychoanalytic method gives me better results. In applying psychoanalysis we must grant the regressive phantasies of the patient, for psychoanalysis has a much broader outlook, as regards the valuation of symptoms, than have the above psychotherapeutic methods. These all emanate from the assertion that a neurosis is an absolute morbid formation. The reigning school of neurology has never thought of considering neurosis as a healing process also, and of attributing to the neurotic formations a quite special teleological meaning. Neurosis, like every other disease, is a compromise between the morbid tendencies, and the normal function. Modern medicine no longer considers fever as the illness itself, but a purposeful reaction of the organism. Psychoanalysis, likewise, no longer conceives a neurosis as eo ipso morbid, but as also having a meaning and a purpose. From this there follows the more reserved and expectant attitude of psychoanalysis towards neurosis. Psychoanalysis does not judge the value of the symptoms, but first tries to understand what tendencies lie beneath these symptoms. If we were able to abolish a neurosis in the same way, for instance, as a cancer is destroyed, then at the same time there would be destroyed a great amount of available energy also. We save this energy, that is, we make it serve the purposes 97of the instinct for health, as soon as we can trace the meaning of these symptoms; by taking part in the regressive movement of the patient. Those unfamiliar with the essentials of psychoanalysis will have some difficulty in understanding how a therapeutic effect can come to pass when the physician takes part in the pernicious phantasies of the patient. Not only critics, but the patients also, doubt the therapeutic value of such a method, which concentrates attention upon phantasies which the patient rejects as worthless and reprehensible. The patients will often tell you that their former physicians forbade them to occupy themselves with their phantasies, and told them that they must only consider that it is well with them, when they are free, if but momentarily, from their awful torments. So, it seems strange enough that it should be of any use to them, when the treatment brings them back to the very thing from which they have tried constantly to escape. The following answer may be made: all depends upon the position which the patient takes up towards his own phantasies. These phantasies have been hitherto, for the patient, an absolutely passive and involuntary manifestation. As we say, he was lost in his dreams. The patient’s so-called brooding is an involuntary kind of dreaming too. What psychoanalysis demands from a patient is only apparently the same. Only a man who has a very superficial knowledge of psychoanalysis can confuse this passive dreaming with the position taken up in analysis. What psychoanalysis asks from the patient is just the contrary of what the patient has always done. The patient can be compared to a person who, unintentionally, has fallen into the water and sunk, whilst psychoanalysis wants him to dive in, as it was no mere chance which led him to fall in at just that spot. There lies a sunken treasure, and only a diver can raise it.