concentration of all the
faculties and aptitudes on a single point which, for the moment, should
include the rest of the world less than represent it. The strengthening
of the state of the soul comes from the fact that its various faculties,
instead of being disseminated over the whole world, find themselves
contained within the limits of a single object, touch one another,
reciprocally upholding, reenforcing, completing themselves. Thanks to
this isolation, the object emerges out of the average level of its
_milieu_, is illumined all around and put in relief--it takes body,
moves, lives. But to attain this is necessary the concentration of all
the faculties. It is only when the art-work has been a world for the
artist that it is also a world for others."

FOOTNOTES:

[155] See Part One, chapter III.

[156] George Sand, _Elle et Lui_, I.

[157] In Oelzelt-Newin, _op. cit._, p. 49.

APPENDIX B

ON THE NATURE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS FACTOR

We have seen that in the question of the unconscious there
must be recognized a positive part--facts, and an hypothetical
part--theories.[158]

Insofar as the facts are concerned, it would be well, I think, to
establish two categories--(1) static unconscious, comprising habits,
memory, and, in general, all that is organized knowledge. It is a state
of preservation, of rest; very relatively, since representations suffer
incessant corrosion and change. (2) Dynamic unconscious, which is a
state of latent activity, of elaboration and incubation. We might give a
multitude of proofs of this unconscious rumination. The well-known fact
that an intellectual work gains by being interrupted; that in resuming
it one often finds it cleared up, changed, even accomplished, was
explained by some psychologists prior to Carpenter by "the resting of
the mind." It would be just as valid to say that a traveler covers
leagues by lying abed. The author just mentioned[159] has brought
together many observations in which the solution of a mathematical,
mechanical, commercial problem appeared suddenly after hours and days of
vague, undefinable uneasiness, the cause of which is unknown, which,
however, is only the result of an underlying cerebral working; for the
trouble, sometimes rising to anguish, ceases as soon as the unawaited
conclusion has entered consciousness. The men who think the most are not
those who have the clearest and "most conscious" ideas, but those having
at their disposal a ric