A Literary Forerunner of Freud

If the definition be true that “The power of the man plus the power of the moment constitute genius,” then we may expect to find that when any great genius arises, he will spring from a rich soil teeming with those ideas to which for the first time, he gives adequate expression. To apply this to the theory and technique of psychoanalysis: Though it sprang fully perfected from the brain of Freud, yet there were undoubtedly prior to the time of his writing, many speculations and suggestions concerning the unconscious; ideas and conjectures that, disconnected and of themselves, had little worth, but which needed only to be united and interpreted by a master-mind to become of incalculable value in the study of normal and abnormal evolution. The most cursory review of modern English literature would show the truth of this statement, and doubtless also (since such a mighty stream of thought must flow from many sources), the same can be said of continental writings. It would be interesting for one with the inclination and ability to make a general survey of this subject. Here, however, I shall content myself with the investigation of the poetry of one man, Matthew Arnold, a man who, as a matter of fact, is far better known for his critical prose writings, but whose poetry, written in his younger days of stress and storm, is a veritable mine for the psychoanalyst.

A man of fastidious taste, exquisite culture, and extraordinary critical ability, who drew freely from classical and continental sources for his inspiration, and who was familiar with “the best that has been thought and said in the world,” we find him in his poetry frequently preoccupied with speculations concerning a buried life, of which he feels the existence in himself, but whose content seems continually to elude him, despite his utmost efforts.

The revealing simplicity with which he writes shows how absolutely ignorant he must have been of the obvious interpretation that we, to-day, in the light of recent know