the Dionysian enchantment; it is alienated Nature, hostile or enslaved, which also celebrates her reconciliation with her prodigal child,—man. Spontaneously Earth offers her gifts and the wild beasts from rock and desert draw near peacefully. The car of Dionysus is lost under flowers and garlands; panthers and tigers approach under his yoke.”
If we change Beethoven’s “Hymn of Praise” into a picture, and giving rein to our imagination, contemplate the millions of beings prostrated and trembling in the dust, at such a moment the Dionysian intoxication will be near at hand. Then is the slave free; then all the rigid and hostile barriers which poverty and arbitrary or insolent custom have established between man and man are broken down. Now, by means of this gospel of universal harmony, each feels himself not only reunited, reconciled, fused with his neighbour, but actually identified with him, as if the veil of “Maïa was torn away, nothing remaining of it but a few shreds floating before the mystery of the Primordial Unity.”[1] It would be superfluous to add comment to these quotations.
In concluding this series of examples culled outside my own special domain, I will quote the linguistic hypothesis of Finck,[2] where we also see the duality in question. The structure of language, according to Finck, presents two principal types: in one the subject is generally conceived as active: “I see him,” “I strike him down;” in the other the subject experiences and feels, and it is the object which acts: “He appears to me,” “He succumbs to me.” The first type clearly shews the libido as going out of the subject,—this is a centrifugal movement; the second as coming out of the object,—this movement is centripetal. We meet with this latter introverted type especially in the primitive languages of the Esquimaux.
In the domain of Psychiatry also these two types have been described by Otto Gross,[3] who distinguishes two forms
