By “free word-association” (Jung’s personal invention) it was discovered that the schizophreniac had once been jilted by a fair co-ed at the dear old school, and had quite sensibly forgotten all about it. But when he returned to the scene of his adolescent chagrin, it all came back--the very campus seemed to him suddenly to sway beneath a purple sea of emotion. He thought that the fair one was not really married to another after all, notwithstanding rumors which he had heard to that most likely effect, but was still waiting for him--waiting until he should prove himself a man. So he commenced knocking other men down. Proof enough. He even added song and gymnastics by way of good measure; and a second attack, like the first but milder, occurred upon his next visit to the fateful place. What had happened (internally) was this. The co-ed had given him a mental traumatism, a blow upon the solar plexus of his vanity. And he was so shamed that he could not bear to think of it. So he put it from his mind--as he fondly thought. But alas, there is no such thing as putting anything from one’s mind. Things so put only go into the unconscious mind, there to fester like a potato in a damp cellar. The psychiatrist digs it out, and all is well. This is the story as set forth (in quite other language) in McDougall’s “Outline of Abnormal Psychology.” Unquestionably it is a great discovery--that we are not always crazy when we appear to be. Introverts, schizoids, dreamy people (you may have your choice of terms) are especially to be congratulated. For they are apt to find themselves battling suddenly with a suspiciously insane looking bosom monster long hidden from themselves--the battle resulting in hysteria if they give way and in compulsion-neurosis if they resist. If one happens not to be a schizoid but an extrovert--that is, a commonplace, practical sort of person--a bad inferiority-complex merely leads to multiple personality, a splitting of individuality into parts, one of which may go about calling itself Smith, another Jones, another Brown. But what shall we do with our famous architects, introvert or extrovert, when they begin to misbehave along non-professional lines? McDougall quite rightly attributes the cure of the one in question to Jung’s showing him just how ridiculous he had been in laying the co-ed’s treachery so much to heart in the first place. He need not have been so rich in false pride, Jung seems to have told him; need not have been ashamed of being jilted. Into each life some rain must fall. His was but the common fate of all men in general and of undergraduates in particular. He should have laughed the incident off, or perhaps have sought relief in another bite from another vampire, on the homeopathic principle of _similia similibus curantur_. What he had needed as a child was not the indulgence of self-esteem, for life is not always kind, but early preventative measures tending to curb self-esteem’s abnormal growth.