underlying energy or essence must be defined in terms of our sense of our
own will and freedom. And this means that we must conceive and describe
ourselves, and expect to conceive and to describe the powers that animate
us, no longer as a system of forces subject to the so-called laws of nature
(which are, in reality, not immutable) but as relatively free, creative
agents; no longer as the product of the interplay of instincts, but as
individuals possessed of real reason, real power of love and real
self-consistent will. To claim to study the effects of the "Libido," to
which we ascribe the vast powers with which we are familiar, yet fail to
seek in it what would correspond to our own best attributes, would be to lay
aside our duties as students of human nature. It would be to confine our
attention to the "structure" of the mind, the form under which it manifests
itself, without having studied the laws of its action under conditions which
are more favorable to its development.

It must, now, have struck students of psychoanalytic literature that a
marked tendency has been shown toward supplementing the study of
structure,--that is, the detailed history of men's experiences and
evolution, regarded as sequences of phenomena,--by the study of the function
or creative energy for which the experiences stand. Silberer, whose work is
endorsed by Freud, has gone to a considerable length in this direction; and
the whole tendency of Freud's insistence on the relevancy, in the mental
sphere, of the law of the conservation of energy has been a movement,
though, I think, a narrow one, in this direction. More recently, Jung has
emphasized the importance of this tendency, and has dwelt more strongly, as
I think, than the facts warrant, on the supposed unwillingness of Freud to
recognize its importance.

Behind the experiences of childhood, for example, lie the temperamental
trends of childhood, and it is these with which we really need to get