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Budapest, April 24, 1911
VII., Erzsébet-körút 54
Dear Professor,
As in a dreamland, that's the way I think of the mountain landscape of Bolzano; also the joy of being able to spend two days with you again in intimate conversation, free from the obligations of work, seems to me here in my isolation to be so improbable that the impression of the fairy-tale-like quality of our splendid excursion is enhanced even more by it. Incidentally, I never depart from you without benefit. I mean by that not an increase in my understanding of mental activity in general but rather a deepening of insight specifically into my own mental life, without which there can be no true knowledge—but especially no true faith. The relationship between knowledge and faith1 that has occupied people for so many centuries is only being made clear by means of analysis. Without self-analysis the most realistic truth can appear incredible. If one hears something new, then one is really obligated analytically to test one's personal relationship to the herald of the new doctrine in the most conscientious manner before one can make a decision as to the real value of that statement. An instructive but unpleasant example of this was recently delivered to me by two “analysts” who are evidently suffering under the effects of the unfriendly reception that you gave them. Décsi went so far as to claim in front of the friend of a patient that I (your friend) “was the biggest charlatan, who inaugurates two-to-three-year treatments.” At the same time, his journalistic accomplishments teem with homosexual love-enthusiasm for Jung, whom he terms the “father of psychology” (but without giving his name). The other doubting Thomas is Dr. Eisler,2 whose work on Anatole France you once rejected. A rebellious patient once went to him during Easter vacation out of revenge for my leaving him, and he (Dr. E.) pointed to his library and said, “You see, I know these things; I've occupied myself quite a bit with them. But these ar