fled from his duties and his libido withdrew, at least partly, from the tasks imposed by real life. In consequence, the libido became introverted and directed towards an inner life. The libido followed the path of regression: to a large extent phantasies replaced reality, because the patient refused to overcome certain real difficulties. Unconsciously the neurotic patient prefers—and very often consciously too—his dreams and phantasies to reality. To bring him back to real life and to the fulfilment of its necessary duties, the analysis proceeds along the same false path of regression which has been taken by his libido; so that the beginning of psychoanalysis looks as if it were supporting the morbid tendencies of the patient. But psychoanalysis follows these phantasies, these wrong paths, in order to restore the libido, which is the valuable part of the phantasies, to the conscious self and to the duties of the moment. This can only be done by bringing the phantasies into the light of day, and along with them the libido bound up with them. We might leave these unconscious phantasies to their shadowy existence, if no libido were attached to them. It is unavoidable that the patient, feeling himself at the beginning of analysis confirmed in his regressive tendencies, leads his analytical interest, amid increasing resistances, down to the depths of the shadowy world. We can easily understand that any physician who is a normal person experiences the greatest resistance towards the thoroughly morbid, regressive tendency of the patient, since he feels quite certain that this tendency is pathological. And this all the more because, as physician, he believes he is right in refusing to give heed to his patient’s phantasies. It is quite conceivable that the physician feels a repulsion towards this tendency; it is undoubtedly repugnant to see how a person is completely given up to such phantasies, finding only himself of any importance and never ceasing to admire or despise himself. The esthetic sense of normal people has, as a rule, little pleasure in neurotic phantasies, even if it does not find them absolutely repulsive. The psychoanalyst must put aside such esthetic judgment, just as every physician must, who really tries to help his patients. He may not fear any dirty work. Of course there are a great many patients physically ill, who, without undergoing an exact examination or local treatment, do recover by the use of general physical, dietetic, or suggestive means. Severe cases can, however, only be helped by a more exact examination and therapy, based on a profound knowledge of the illness. Our psychotherapeutic methods hitherto have been like these general measures. In slight cases they did no harm; on the contrary, they were often of great service. But for a great many patients these measures have proved inadequate. If they really can be helped, it will be by psychoanalysis, which is not to say that psychoanalysis is a universal panacea.