Did you ever notice that every philosopher, poet, historian and biographer evolves his own psychology, based on individual presumptions, in regard to the connection and the ultimate purpose of psychological phenomena, all of which are more or less acceptable but altogether and equally unreliable? Seemingly, a common foundation is missing. Thus it happens that in the realm of psychology, there is an utter lack of respect and authority. There, obviously, anybody is permitted to “poach” or “freelance” to his heart’s content. If you touch upon a question of physiology or chemistry, nobody will dare speak up, unless he is in possession of authentic information. However, when discussing psychological questions, you may expect everybody to venture an opinion, or raise his voice in protest. Evidently, there is no “professional knowledge” in his realm! Inasmuch as everybody has a soul life, everybody considers himself a born psychologist. There is a story of an old woman who offered her services to take care of babies. When asked whether she knew anything about babies, her answer was: Why, sure, haven’t I been a baby myself once? “And this common foundation of soul life, overlooked by all psychologists, you claim to have discovered through the observation of ailing people?” I do not believe that the origin of our findings minimizes their value. Embryology, for example, would not enjoy any confidence as a science if it were unable to explain clearly the origin of pre-natal deformities. You will remember that I have mentioned before persons whose thoughts insist upon travelling their own way. To such an extent as a matter of fact, that such persons are forced to ponder about problems which do not interest them at all. Do you believe that psychology, as generally taught, will be in a position to render even so much as the slightest assistance for the explanation of such anomalies? And after all, there is not one of us whose thoughts, during the night, do not travel their very own way, creating visions which we are unable to interpret, which we are at a loss to understand, and which frequently appear to be, to an almost disquieting extent, products of morbidity.