48

V

MISTAKES IN SPEECH

ALTHOUGH the ordinary material of speech of our mother-
tongue seems to be guarded against forgetting, its applic-
ation, however, more often succumbs to another disturb-
ance which is familiar to us as “slips of the tongue.”
What we observe in normal persons as slips of the tongue
gives the same impression as the first step of the so-called
“paraphasias” which manifest themselves under patho-
logic conditions.

I am’ in the exceptional position of being about to refer
to a previous work on the subject. In the year 1895
Meringer and C. Mayer published a study on Mistakes in
Speech and Reading, with whose view-points I do not
agree. One of the authors, who is the spokesman in the
text, is a philologist actuated by a linguistic interest to
examine the rules governing those slips. He hoped to
deduce from these rules the existence “of a definite psychic
mechanism,” “whereby the sounds of a word, of a
sentence, and even the words themselves, would be
associated and connected with one another in a quite
peculiar manner” (p. 10).

The authors grouped the examples of speech-mistakes
collected by them first according to purely descriptive
view-points, such as interchangings (e.g., the Milo of
Venus instead of the Venus of Milo), as anticipations (e.g.
the shoes made her sorft … the shoes made her feet

49

MISTAKES IN SPEECH

sore), as echoes and post positions, as contaminations
(e.g. “I will soon go
home and I will see him”), and substitutions (e.g. “he
entrusted his money to a savings crank,” instead of “a
savings bank”).¹⁾ Besides these principal categories there
are some others of lesser importance (or of lesser signific-
ance for our purpose). In this grouping it makes no
difference whether the transposition, disfigurement,
fusion, etc., affects single sounds of the word or syllables,
or whole words of the concerned sentence.
To explain the various forms of mistakes in speech,
Meringer assumes a varied psychic value of phonetics.
As soon as the innervation affects the first syllable of a
word, or the first word of a sentence, the stimulating
process immediately strikes the succeeding sounds, and
the following words, and in so far as these innervations
are synchronous they may effect some changes in one
another. The stimulus of the psychically more intensive
sound “rings” before or continues echoing, and thus
disturbs the less important process of innervation. It is
necessary therefore to determine which are the most
important sounds of a word. Meringer states: “If one
wishes to know which sound of a word possesses the
greatest intensity he should examine himself while
searching for a forgotten word, for example, a name.
That which first returns to consciousness invariably had
the greatest intensity prior to the forgetting (p. 160). Thus
the most important sounds are the initial sound of the
root-syllable and the initial sound of the word itself, as
well as one or another of the accentuated vowels” (p. 162).
Here I cannot help voicing a contradiction. Whether
or not the initial sound of the name belongs to the most

¹⁾The examples are given by the editor.

50

important elements of the word; it is surely not true that
in the case of the forgetting of the word it first returns to
consciousness; the above rule is therefore of no use.
When we observe ourselves during the search for a
forgotten name we are comparatively often forced to
express the opinion that it begins with a certain letter.
This conviction proves to be as often unfounded as
founded. Indeed, I would even go so far as to assert that
in the majority of cases one reproduces a false initial
sound. Also in our example Signorelli the substitutive
name lacked the initial sound, and the principal syllables
were lost; on the other hand, the less important pair of
syllables elli returned to consciousness in the substitutive
name Botticelli.

How little substitutive names respect the initial sound
of the lost names may be learned from the following case.
One day I found it impossible to recall the name of the
small country whose capital is Monte Carlo. The substit-
utive names were as follows: Piedmont, Albania, Monte-
video, Colico. In place of Albania Montenegro soon
appeared, and then it struck me that the syllable Mont
(pronounced Mon) occurred in all but the last of the
substitutive names. It thus became easy for me to find
from the name of Prince Albert the forgotten name
Monaco. Colico practically imitates the syllabic sequence
and rhythm of the forgotten name.

If we admit the conjecture that a mechanism similar to
that pointed out in the forgetting of names may also
play a part in the phenomena of speech-blunders, we are
then led to a better founded judgment of cases of speech-
blunders. The speech disturbance which manifests itself
as a speech-blunder may in the first place be caused by the
influence of another component of the same speech, that
 

51

is, through a fore-sound or an echo, or through another
meaning within the sentence or context which differs from
that which the speaker wishes to utter. In the second
place, however, the disturbance could be brought about
analogously to the process in the case Signorelli, through
influences outside this word, sentence or context, from
elements which we did not intend to express, and of
whose incitement we became conscious only through the
disturbance. In both modes of origin of the mistake in
speech the common element lies in the simultaneity of the
stimulus, while the differentiating elements lie in the
arrangement within or without the same sentence or
context.

The difference does not at first appear as wide as when
it is taken into consideration in certain conclusions drawn
from the symptomatology of speech-mistakes. It is
clear, however, that only in the first case is there a pros-
pect of drawing conclusions from the manifestations of
speech-blunders concerning a mechanism which connects
together sounds and words for the reciprocal influence of
their articulation; that is, conclusions such as the philo-
logist hopes to gain from the study of speech-blunders.
In the case of disturbance through influence outside of
the same sentence or context, it would before all be a
question of becoming acquainted with the disturbing
elements, and then the question would arise whether the
mechanism of this disturbance cannot also suggest the
probable laws of the formation of speech.

We cannot maintain that Meringer and Mayer have
overlooked the possibility of speech disturbance through
“complicated psychic influences,” that is, through
elements outside of the same word or sentence or the
same sequence of words. Indeed, they must have observed

52

that the theory of the psychic variation of sounds applies,
strictly speaking, only to the explanation of sound distur-
bances as well as to fore-sounds and after-sounds. Where
the word disturbances cannot be reduced to sound
disturbances, as, for example, in the substitutions and
contaminations of words, they, too, have without hesita-
tion sought the cause of the mistake in speech outside of
the intended context, and proved this state of affairs by
means of fitting examples.¹ According to the author’s
own understanding it is some similarity between a certain
word in the intended sentence and some other not inten-
ded, which allows the latter to assert itself in consciousness
by causing a disfigurement, a composition, or a com-
promise formation (contamination).

Now, in my work on the Interpretation of Dreams I
have shown the part played by the process of condensation
in the origin of the so-called manifest contents of the
dream from the latent thoughts of the dream. Any
similarity of objects or of word-presentations between
two elements of the unconscious material is taken as a
cause for the formation of a third, which is a composite
or compromise formation. This element represents
both components in the dream content, and in view of
this origin it is frequently endowed with numerous
contradictory individual determinants. The formation of
substitutions and contaminations in speech-mistakes is,
therefore, the beginning of that work of condensation
which we find taking a most active part in the construction
of the dream.

In a small essay destined for the general reader,²

¹Those who are interested are referred to pp 62, 73, and 97
of the author’s work.

²Neue Freie Presse, August 23, 1900: “Wie man sich vers-
prechen kann.”

53

MISTAKES IN SPEECH

Meringer advanced a theory of very practical significance
for certain cases of interchanging of words, especially for
such cases where one word is substituted by another of
opposite meaning. He says: “We may still recall the
manner in which the President of the Austrian House of
Deputies opened the session some time ago: ‘Honoured
Sirs! I announce the presence of so and so many gentle-
men, and therefore declare the session as “closed” ’!”
The general merriment first attracted his attention and he
corrected his mistake. In the present case the probable
explanation is that the President wished himself in a
position to close this session, from which he had little
good to expect, and the thought broke through at least
partially–a frequent manifestation–resulting in his use
of “closed” in place of “opened,” that is, the opposite of
the statement intended. Numerous observations have
taught me, however, that we frequently interchange con-
trasting words; they are already associated in our speech
consciousness; they lie very close together and are easily
incorrectly evoked.

Still, not in all cases of contrast substitution is it so
simple as in the example of the President as to appear
plausible that the speech-mistake occurs merely as a
contradiction which arises in the inner thought of the
speaker opposing the sentence uttered. We have found
the analogous mechanism in the analysis of the example
aliquis; there the inner contradiction asserts itself in the
form of forgetting a word instead of a substitution through
its opposite. But in order to adjust the difference we may
remark that the little word aliquis is incapable of a contrast
similar to “closing” and “opening,” and that the word
“opening” cannot be subject to forgetting on account
of its being a common component of speech.

54

Having been shown by the last examples of Meringer
and Mayer that speech disturbance may be caused
through the influence of fore-sounds, after-sounds, words
from the same sentence that were intended for expression,
as well as through the effect of words outside the sentence
intended, the stimulus of which would otherwise not have
been suspected, we shall next wish to discover whether we
can definitely separate the two classes of mistakes in
speech, and how we can distinguish the example of the
one from a case of the other class.

But at this stage of the discussion we must also think of
the assertions of Wundt, who deals with the manifesta-
tions of speech-mistakes in his recent work on the develop-
ment of language.¹ Psychic influences, according to
Wundt, never lack in these as well as in other phenomena
related to them. “The uninhibited stream of sound and
word associations stimulated by spoken sounds belongs
here in the first place as a positive determinant. This is
supported as a negative factor by the relaxation or sup-
pression of the influences of the will which inhibit this
stream, and by the active attention which is here a function
of volition. Whether that play of association manifests
itself in the fact that a coming sound is anticipated or a
preceding sound reproduced, or whether a familiar
practised sound becomes intercalated between others, or
finally, whether it manifests itself in the fact that altogether
different sounds associatively related to the spoken sounds
act upon these—all these questions designate only
differences in the direction, and at most in the play of
the occurring associations but not in the general nature of
the same. In some cases it may be also doubtful to which
form a certain disturbance may be attributed, or whether

¹Volker psychologie, vol. i, pt. i, p. 371, etc., 1900.

55

it would not be more correct to refer such disturbance to
a concurrence of many motives, following the principle of
the complication of causes¹⁾ (cf. pp. 380–81).”

I consider these observations of Wundt as absolutely
justified and very instructive. Perhaps we could emphas-
ize with even greater firmness than Wundt that the
positive factor favouring mistakes in speech (the uninhib-
ited stream of associations, and its negative, the relaxa-
tion of the inhibiting attention) regularly attain synchron-
ous action, so that both factors become only different
determinants of the same process. With the relaxation,
or, more unequivocally expressed, through this relaxation,
of the inhibiting attention the uninhibited stream of
associations becomes active.

Among the examples of the mistakes in speech collected
by me I can scarcely find one in which I would be obliged
to attribute the speech disturbance simply and solely to
what Wundt calls “contact effect of sound.” Almost
invariably I discover besides this a disturbing influence of
something outside of the intended speech. The disturbing
element is either a single unconscious thought, which
comes to light through the speech-blunder, and can only
be brought to consciousness through a searching analysis,
or it is a more general psychic motive, which directs itself
against the entire speech.

(Example a) Seeing my daughter make an unpleasant
face while biting into an apple, I wished to quote the
following couplet:—

“The ape he is a funny sight,
When in the apple he takes a bite.”

But I began: “The apel . . .” This seems to be a

¹⁾Italics are mine.

56

contamination of “ape” and “apple” (compromise for
mation), or it may be also conceived as an anticipation of
the prepared “apple.” The true state of affairs, however,
was this: I began the quotation once before, and made no
mistake the first time. I made the mistake only during the
repetition, which was necessary because my daughter,
having been distracted from another side, did not listen
to me. This repetition with the added impatience to
disburden myself of the sentence I must include in the
motivation of the speech-blunder, which represented
itself as a function of condensation.

(b) My daughter said, “I wrote to Mrs. Schresinger.”
The woman’s name was Schlesinger. This speech
blunder may depend on the tendency to facilitate articul-
ation. I must state, however, that this mistake was made
by my daughter a few moments after I had said apfel
instead of ape. Mistakes in speech are in a great measure
contagious; a similar peculiarity was noticed by Meringer
and Mayer in the forgetting of names. I know of no reason
for this psychic contagiousness.

(c) “I sut up like a pocket-knife,” said a patient in the
beginning of treatment, instead of “I shut up.” This
suggests a difficulty of articulation which may serve as an
excuse for the interchanging of sounds. When her
attention was called to the speech-blunder, she promptly
replied, “Yes, that happened because you said ‘earnesht’
instead of ‘earnest.’ ” As a matter of fact I received her
with the remark, “To-day we shall be in earnest” (because
it was the last hour before her discharge from treatment),
and I jokingly changed the word into earnesht. In the
course of the hour she repeatedly made mistakes in speech,
and I finally observed that it was not only because she
imitated me but because she had a special reason in her

57

unconscious to linger at the word earnest (Ernst) as a
name.¹⁾

(d) A woman, speaking about a game invented by her
children and called by them “the manx in the box,” said
“the manx in the boc.” I could readily understand her
mistake. It was while analysing her dream, in which her
husband is depicted as very generous in money matters-
just the reverse of reality – that she made this speech-
blunder. The day before she had asked for a new set of
furs, which her husband denied her, claiming that he
could not afford to spend so much money. She upbraided
him for his stinginess, “for putting away so much into
the strongbox,” and mentioned a friend whose husband
has not nearly his income, and yet he presented his wife
with a mink coat for her birthday. The mistake is now
comprehensible. The word manx (manks) reduces itself
to the “minks” which she longs for, and the box refers to
her husband’s stinginess.

(e) A similar mechanism is shown in the mistake of
another patient whose memory deserted her in the midst
of a long-forgotten childish reminiscence. Her memory
failed to inform her on what part of the body the prying
and lustful hand of another had touched her. Soon
thereafter she visited one of her friends, with whom she
discussed summer homes. Asked where her cottage in
M. was located, she answered, “Near the mountain loin”
instead of “mountain lane.”

¹⁾It turned out that she was under the influence of unconscious
thoughts concerning pregnancy and prevention of conception.
With the words “shut up like a pocket knife,” which she uttered
consciously as a complaint, she meant to describe the position
of the child in the womb. The word “earnest” in my remark
recalled to her the name (S. Ernst) of the well-known Vienna
business firm in Kärntner Strasse, which used to advertise the
sale of articles for the prevention of conception.

58

(f) Another patient, whom I asked at the end of her
visit how her uncle was, answered: “I don’t know, I only
see him now in flagranti.”
The following day she said, “I am really ashamed of
myself for having given you yesterday such a stupid
answer. Naturally you must have thought me a very
uneducated person who always mistakes the meaning of
foreign words. I wished to say en passant.” We did not
know at the time where she got the incorrectly used
foreign words, but during the same session she reproduced
a reminiscence as a continuation of the theme from the
previous day, in which being caught in flagranti played
the principal part. The mistake of the previous day had
therefore anticipated the recollection, which at that time
had not yet become conscious.
(g) In discussing her summer plans, a patient said, “I
shall remain most of the summer in Elberlön. She noted
her mistake, and asked me to analyse it. The associations
to Elberlon elicited: seashore on the Jersey coast—summer
resort—vacation travelling. This recalled travelling in
Europe with her cousin, a topic which we had discussed
the day before during the analysis of a dream. The dream
dealt with her dislike for this cousin, and she admitted
that it was mainly due to the fact that the latter was the
favourite of the man whom they met together while
travelling abroad. During the dream analysis she could
not recall the name of the city in which they met this
man, and I did not make any effort at the time to bring
it to her consciousness, as we were engrossed in a totally
different problem. When asked to focus her attention
again on Elberlon and reproduce her associations, she
said, “It brings to mind Elberlawn—lawn—field—and
Elberfield.” Elberfeld was the lost name of the city in

59

Germany. Here the mistake served to bring to conscious-
ness in a concealed manner a memory which was con-
nected with a painful feeling.

(h) A woman said to me, “If you wish to buy a carpet,
go to Merchant (Kaufmann) in Matthew Street (Mathäus-
gasse).” I repeated, “Then at Matthew’s–I mean at
Merchant’s–” It would seem that my repeating of one
name in place of the other was simply the result of dis-
traction. The woman’s remark really did distract me, as
she turned my attention to something else much more
vital to me than carpet. In Matthew Street stands the
house in which my wife lived as a bride. The entrance
to the house was in another street, and now I noticed that
I had forgotten its name and could only recall it through
a roundabout method. The name Matthew, which kept
my attention, is thus a substitutive name for the forgotten
name of the street. It is more suitable than the name
Merchant, for Matthew is exclusively the name of a
person, while Merchant is not. The forgotten street, too,
bears the name of a person: Radetzky.

(i) A patient consulted me for the first time, and from
her history it became apparent that the cause of her
nervousness was largely an unhappy married life. Without
any encouragement she went into details about her
marital troubles. She had not lived with her husband for
about six months, and she saw him last at the theatre,
when she saw the play Officer 606. I called her attention
to the mistake, and she immediately corrected herself,
saying that she meant to say Officer 666 (the name of a
recent popular play). I decided to find out the reason
for the mistake, and as the patient came to me for analytic
treatment, I discovered that the immediate cause of the

60

rupture between herself and husband was the disease
which is treated by “606.”¹

(k) Before calling on me a patient telephoned for an
appointment, and also wished to be informed about ‘my
consultation fee.’ He was told that the first consultation
was ten dollars; after the examination was over he again
asked what he was to pay, and added: “I don’t like to owe’
money to any one, especially to doctors; I prefer to pay
right away.” Instead of pay he said play. His last volun-
tary remarks and his mistake put me on my guard, but
after a few more uncalled-for remarks he set me at ease
by taking money from his pocket. He counted four paper
dollars and was very chagrined and surprised because he
had no more money with him, and promised to send me a
cheque for the balance. I was sure that his mistake
betrayed him, that he was only playing with me, but there
was nothing to be done. At the end of a few weeks I sent
him a bill for the balance, and the letter was returned to
me by the post office authorities marked “Not found.”

(l) Miss X. spoke very warmly of Mr. Y., which was
rather strange, as before this she had always expressed
her indifference, not to say her contempt, for him. On
being asked about this sudden change of heart she said:
“I really never had anything against him; he was always
nice to me, but I never gave him the chance to cultivate
my acquaintance.” She said “captivate.” This neologism
was a contamination of cultivate and captivate, and fore-
told the coming betrothal.

(m) An illustration of the mechanisms of contamination
and condensation will be found in the following lapsus
linguæ. Speaking of Miss Z., Miss W. depicted her as a

¹ Similar mistakes dealing with Officer 666 were recently
reported to me by other psychoanalysts.

61

very “straitlaced” person who was not given to levities,
etc. Miss X. thereupon remarked: “Yes, that is a very
characteristic description, she always appealed to me as
very ‘straicet-brazed.’” Here the mistake resolved itself
into straitlaced and brazen-faced, which corresponded to
Miss W.’s opinion of Miss Z.

(n) I shall quote a number of examples from a paper
by my colleague, Dr. W. Stekel, which appeared in the
Berlin Tageblatt of January, 1904, entitled “Unconscious
Confessions.”

“An unpleasant trick of my unpleasant thoughts was
revealed by the following example: To begin with, I may
state that in my capacity as a physician I never consider
my remuneration, but always keep in view the patient’s
interest only: this goes without saying. I was visiting a
patient who was convalescing from a serious illness. We
had passed through hard days and nights. I was happy
to find her improved, and I portrayed to her the pleasures
of a sojourn in Abbazia, concluding with: ‘If, as I hope,
you will not soon leave your bed.’ This obviously came
from an unconscious selfish motive, to be able to continue
treating this wealthy patient,–a wish which is entirely
foreign to my waking consciousness, and which I would
reject with indignation.”

(o) Another example (Dr. W. Stekel): “My wife
engaged a French governess for the afternoons, and later,
coming to a satisfactory agreement, wished to retain her
testimonials. The governess begged to be allowed to keep
them, saying, ‘Je cherche encore pour les apérs-midis-
pardons, pour les avant-midis.’ She apparently intended
to seek another place which would perhaps offer more
profitable arrangements—an intention which she carried
out.”

62

(p) I was to give a lecture to a woman. Her husband,
upon whose request this was done, stood behind the door
listening. At the end of my sermonizing, which had made
a visible impression, I said: “Good-bye, sir!” To the
experienced person I thus betrayed the fact that the
words were directed towards the husband; that I had
spoken to oblige him.

(q) Dr. Stekel reports about himself that he had under
treatment at the same time two patients from Trieste, each
of whom he always addressed incorrectly. “Good morning,
Mr. Peloni!” he would say to Askoli, and to Peloni, “Good
morning, Mr. Askoli!” He was at first inclined to
attribute no deeper motive to this mistake, but to explain
it through a number of similarities in both persons.
However, he easily convinced himself that here the
interchange of names bespoke a sort of boast-
that is, he
was acquainting each of his Italian patients with the
fact that neither was the only resident of Trieste who came
to Vienna in search of his medical advice.

(r) Two women stopped in front of a drug-store, and
one said to her companion, “If you will wait a few
moments I’ll soon be back,” but she said movements
instead. She was on her way to buy some castoria for her
child.

(s) Mr. L., who is fonder of being called on than of
calling, spoke to me through the telephone from a nearby
summer resort. He wanted to know when I would pay
him a visit. I reminded him that it was his turn to visit
me, and called his attention to the fact that, as he was the
happy possessor of an automobile, it would be easier for
him to call on me. (We were at different summer resorts,
separated by about one half-hour’s railway trip). He
gladly promised to call, and asked: “How about labour

63

Day (September 1st), will it be convenient for you?”
When I answered affirmatively, he said, “Very well,
then, put me down for Election Day” (November). His
mistake was quite plain. He likes to visit me, but it was
inconvenient to travel so far. In November we would both
be in the city. My analysis proved correct.

(t) A friend described to me a nervous patient, and
wished to know whether I could benefit him. I remarked:
“I believe that in time I can remove all his symptoms by
psychoanalysis, because it is a durable case,” wishing to
say “curable”!

(u) I repeatedly addressed my patient as Mrs. Smith,
her married daughter’s name, when her real name is Mrs.
James. My attention having been called to it, I soon
discovered that I had another patient of the same name
who refused to pay for the treatment. Mrs. Smith was
also my patient and paid her bills promptly.

(v) A lapsus linguæ sometimes stands for a particular
characteristic. A young woman, who is the domineering
spirit in her home, said of her ailing husband that he had
consulted the doctor about a wholesome diet for himself,
and then added: “The doctor said that diet has nothing
to do with his ailments, and that he can eat and drink
what I want.”

(w) I cannot omit this excellent and instructive example,
although, according to my authority, it is about twenty
years old. A lady once expressed herself in society—the
very words show that they were uttered with fervour and
under the pressure of a great many secret emotions: “Yes,
a woman must be pretty if she is to please the men. A
man is much better off. As long as he has five straight
limbs, he needs no more!”

This example affords us a good insight into the intimate

64

mechanisms of a mistake in speech by means of conden-
sation and contamination (cf. p. 72). It is quite obvious
that we have here a fusion of two similar modes of
expression:—

“As long as he has his four straight limbs.”
“As long as he has all his five senses.”

Or the term “straight” may be the common element of
the two intended expressions:—

“As long as he has his straight limbs.”
“All five should be straight.”

It may also be assumed that both modes of expression–
viz. those of the five senses and those of the straight five
–have co-operated to introduce into the sentence about
the straight limbs first a number and then the mysterious
five instead of the simple four. But this fusion surely
would not have succeeded if it had not expressed good
sense in the form resulting from the mistake; if it had not
expressed a cynical truth which, naturally, could not be
uttered unconcealed, coming as it did from a woman.

Finally, we shall not hesitate to call attention to the
fact that the woman’s saying, following its wording, could
just as well be an excellent witticism as a jocose speech-
blunder. It is simply a question whether she uttered
these words with conscious or unconscious intention.
The behaviour of the speaker in this case certainly speaks
against the conscious intention, and thus excludes wit.

(x) Owing to similarity of material, I add here another
case of speech-blunder, the interpretation of which
requires less skill. A professor of anatomy strove to
explain the nostril, which, as is known, is a very difficult
anatomical structure. To his question whether his
audience grasped his ideas he received an affirmative
reply. The professor, known for his self-esteem, thereupon

65

remarked: “I can hardly believe this, for the number of
people who understand the nostril, even in a city of
millions like Vienna, can be counted on a finger–
pardon me; I meant to say on the fingers of a hand.”

(y) I am indebted to Dr. Alf. Robitsek, of Vienna, for
calling my attention to two speech-blunders from an old
French author, which I.shall reproduce in the original.
Brantome (1527–1614), Vies des Dames galantes,
Discours second: “Si ay-je cogneu une très belle et
honneste dame de par le monde, qui, devisant avec un
honneste gentilhomme de la cour des affaires de la guerre
durant ces civiles, elle luy dit: ‘J’ay ouy dire que le roy
a faiet rompre tous les c–
de ce pays là.’ Elle vouloit
dire le ponts. Pensez que, venant de coucher d’avec son
mary, ou songeant à son amant, elle avoit encor ce nom
frais en la bouche; et le gentilhomme s’en eschauffer en
amours d’elle pour ce mot.
“Une autre dame que j’ai cogneue, entretenant une
autre grand dame plus qu’elle, et luy louant et exaltant
ses beautez, elle luy dit après: ‘Non, madame, ce que je
vous en di… ce n’est point pour vous adult’rré; voulant
dire adulater, comme elle le rhabilla ainsi: pensez qu’elle
songeoit à adultérer.’ ”

In the psychotherapeutic procedure which I employ
in the solution and removal of neurotic symptoms, I am
often confronted with the task of discovering from the
accidental utterances and fancies of the patient the
thoughtcontents, which, though striving for concealment,
nevertheless unintentionally betray themselves. In doing
this the mistakes often perform the most valuable service,
as I can show through most convincing and still most
singular examples.

For example, patients speak of an aunt and later,

66

without noting the mistake, call her “my mother,” or
designate a husband as a “brother.” In this way they
attract my attention to the fact that they have “identified”
these persons with each other, that they have placed them
in the same category, which for their emotional life
signifies the recurrence of the same type. Or, a young
man of twenty years presents himself during my office
hours with these words: “I am the father of N. N., whom
you have treated-
pardon me, I mean the brother; why,
he is four years older than I.” I understand through this
mistake that he wishes to express that, like the brother,
too, is ill through the fault of the father; like his brother,
he wishes to be cured, but that the father is the one most
in need of treatment. At other times an unusual arrange-
ment of words, or a forced expression, is sufficient to
disclose in the speech of the patient the participation of a
repressed thought having a different motive.

Hence, in coarse as well as in finer speech disturbances,
which may, nevertheless, be subsumed as “speech-
blunders,” I find that it is not the contact effects of the
sound, but the thoughts outside the intended speech,
which determine the origin of the speech-blunder, and
also suffice to explain the newly formed mistakes in speech.
I do not doubt the laws whereby the sounds produce
changes upon one another; but they alone do not appear
to me sufficiently forcible to mar the correct execution of
speech. In those cases which I have studied and investig-
ated more closely they merely represent the preformed
mechanism, which is conveniently utilized by a more
remote psychic motive. The latter does not, however,
form a part of the sphere of influence of these sound
relations. In a large number of substitutions caused by
mistakes in talking there is an entire absence of such phonetic

67

laws. In this respect I am in full accord with Wundt,
who likewise assumes that the conditions underlying
speech-blunders are complex and go far beyond the
contact effect of the sounds.

If I accept as certain “these more remote psychic
influences,” following Wundt’s expression, there is still
nothing to detain me from conceding also that in accelerat-
ed speech, with a certain amount of diverted attention
the causes of speech-blunder may be easily limited to the
definite law of Meringer and Mayer. However, in a
number of examples gathered by these authors a more
complicated solution is quite apparent.

In some forms of speech-blunders we may assume that
the disturbing factor is the result of striking against
obscene words and meanings. The purposive disfigure-
ment and distortion of words and phrases, which is so
popular with vulgar persons, aims at nothing else but the
employing of a harmless motive as a reminder of the
obscene, and this sport is so frequent that it would not
be at all remarkable if it appeared unintentionally and
contrary to the will.

I trust that the readers will not depreciate the value of
these interpretations, for which there is no proof, and of
these examples which I have myself collected and explained
by means of analysis. But if secretly I still cherish the
expectation that even the apparently simple cases of
speech-blunder will be traced to a disturbance caused by
a half-repressed idea outside of the intended context, I am
tempted to it by a noteworthy observation of Meringer.
This author asserts that it is remarkable that nobody
wishes to admit having made a mistake in speaking. There
are many intelligent and honest people who are offended
if we tell them that they made a mistake in speaking. I

68

would not risk making this assertion as general as does
Meringer, using the term “nobody.” But the emotional
trace which clings to the demonstration of the mistake,
which manifestly belongs to the nature of shame, has its
significance. It may be classed with the anger displayed
at the inability to recall a forgotten name, and with the
surprise at the tenaciousness of an apparently indifferent
memory, and it invariably points to the participation of a
motive in the formation of the disturbance.

The distorting of names amounts to an insult when
done intentionally, and could have the same significance
in a whole series of cases where it appears as unintentional
speech-blunders. The person who, according to Mayer’s
report, once said “Freuder” instead of “Freud,” because
shortly before he pronounced the name “Vreuer” (p. 38),
and who at another time spoke of the “Breuer-Breudian”
method (p. 28), was certainly not particularly enthusiastic
over this method. Later, under the mistakes in writing,
I shall report a case of name disfigurement which certainly
admits of no other explanation.¹

¹It may be observed that aristocrats in particular very
frequently distort the names of the physicians they consult,
from which we may conclude that inwardly they slight them, in
spite of the politeness with which they are wont to greet them.
I shall cite here some excellent observations concerning the
forgetting of names from the works of Professor E. Jones, of
Toronto: Papers on Psychoanalysis, chap. iii, p. 49:–
“Few people can avoid feeling a twinge of resentment when
they find that their name has been forgotten, particularly if it is
by some one with whom they had hoped or expected it would
be remembered. They instinctively realize that if they had
made a greater impression on the person’s mind he would
certainly have remembered them again, for the name is an
integral part of the personality. Similarly, few things are more
flattering to most people than to find themselves addressed by
name by a great personage where they could hardly have anticip-
ated it. Napoleon, like most leaders of men, was a master of
this art. In the midst of the disastrous campaign of France in

69

As a disturbing element in these cases there is an
intermingling of a criticism which must be omitted,
because at the time being it does not correspond to the
intention of the speaker.

Or it may be just the reverse; the substituted name, or
the adoption of the strange name, signifies an appreciation
of the same. The identification which is brought about
by the mistake is equivalent to a recognition which for
the moment must remain in the background. An ex-
perience of this kind from his schooldays is related by
Dr. Ferenczi:–

“While in my first year at college I was obliged to
recite a poem before the whole class. It was the first
experience of the kind in my life, but I was well prepared.
As soon as I began my recitation I was dismayed at being
disturbed by an outburst of laughter. The professor
later explained to me this strange reception. I started by
giving the title ‘From the Distance,’ which was correct,
but instead of giving the name of the real author, I men-
tioned–my own. The name of the poet is Alexander
Petofi. The identity of the first name with my own
favoured the interchange of names, but the real reason
was surely the fact that I identified myself at that time
with the celebrated poet–hero. Even consciously I
¹⁾

¹⁾1814, he gave an amazing proof of his memory in this direction.
When in a town near Craonne, he recollected that he had met
the mayor, De Bussy, over twenty years ago in the La Fère
Regiment. The delighted De Bussy at once threw himself into
his service with extraordinary zeal. Conversely, there is no
surer way of affronting some one than by pretending to forget
his name; the insinuation is thus conveyed that the person
is so unimportant in our eyes that we cannot be bothered to
remember his name. This device is often exploited in literature.
In Turgentev’s Smoke (p. 255) the following passage occurs:
“So, you still find Baden entertaining, M’sieur–Litvinov.’
Ratmirov always uttered Litvinov’s surname with hesitation,

70

entertained for him a love and respect which verged on
adoration. The whole ambition-complex hides itself
under this faulty action.”

A similar identification was reported to me concerning
a young physician who timidly and reverently introduced
himself to the celebrated Virchow with the following
words: “I am Dr. Virchow.” The surprised professor
turned to him and asked, “Is your name also Virchow?”
I do not know how the ambitious young man justified his
speech-blunder, whether he thought of the charming
excuse that he imagined himself so insignificant next to
this big man that his own name slipped from him, or
whether he had the courage to admit that he hoped that he,
too, would some day be as great a man as Virchow, and
that the professor should therefore not treat him in too
disparaging a manner. One or both of these thoughts
may have put this young man in an embarrassing position
during the introduction.

Owing to very personal motives I must leave it unde-
cided whether a similar interpretation may also apply in
the case to be cited. At the International Congress in
Amsterdam, in 1907, my theories of hysteria were the
subject of a lively discussion. One of my most violent
opponents, in his diatribe against me, repeatedly made
mistakes in speech in such a manner that he put himself
every time, as though he had forgotten it, and could not at once
recall it. In this way, as well as by the lofty flourish of his hat in
saluting him, he meant to insult his pride.” The same author,
in his Fathers and Children (p. 107), writes: “The Governor
invited Kirsanov and Bazarov to his ball, and within a few
minutes invited them a second time, regarding them as brothers,
and calling them Kisarov.” Here the forgetting that he had
spoken to them, the mistake in the names, and the inability to
distinguish between the two young men, constitute a culmination
of disparagement. Falsification of a name has the same significa-
tion as forgetting it; it is only a step towards complete amnesia.”

71

MISTAKES IN SPEECH

in my place and spoke in my name. He said, for example,
“Breuer and I, as is well known, have demonstrated,” etc.,
when he wished to say “Breuer and Freud.” The name
of this opponent does not show the slightest sound
similarity to my own. From this example, as well as from
other cases of interchanging names in speech-
blunders, we are reminded of the fact that the speech-blunder can
fully forgo the facility afforded to it through similar
sounds, and can achieve its purpose if only supported in
content by concealed relations.

In other and more significant cases it is a self-criticism,
an internal contradiction against one’s own utterance,
which causes the speech-blunder, and even forces a
contrasting substitution for the one intended. We then
observe with surprise how the wording of an assertion
removes the purpose of the same, and how the error in
speech lays bare the inner dishonesty. Here the lapsus
linguæ becomes a mimicking form of expression, often,
indeed, for the expression of what one does not wish to
say. It is thus a means of self-betrayal.

Brill relates: “I had recently been consulted by a
woman who showed many paranoid trends, and as she
had no relatives who could co-operate with me, I urged
her to enter a State hospital as a voluntary patient. She
was quite willing to do so, but on the following day she
told me that her friends with whom she leased an apart-
ment objected to her going to a hospital, as it would
interfere with their plans, and so on. I lost patience and
said: ‘There is no use listening to your friends who know
nothing about your mental condition; you are quite
incompetent to take care of your own affairs.’ I meant to
say ‘competent.’ Here the lapsus linguæ expressed my
true opinion.”

72

Favoured by chance the speech material often gives
origin to examples of speech-blunders which serve to
bring about an overwhelming revelation or a full comic
effect, as shown by the following examples reported by
Brill:–

“A wealthy but not very generous host invited his
friends for an evening dance. Everything went well until
about 11.30 p.m., when there was an intermission,
presumably for supper. To the great disappointment of
most of the guests there was no supper; instead, they
were regaled with thin sandwiches and lemonade. As it
was close to Election day the conversation centred on the
different candidates; and as the discussion grew warmer,
one of the guests, an ardent admirer of the Progressive
Party candidate, remarked to the host: ‘You may say
what you please about Teddy, but there is one thing–he
can always be relied upon; he always gives you a square
meal,’ wishing to say square deal. The assembled guests
burst into a roar of laughter, to the great embarrassment
of the speaker and the host, who fully understood each
other.”

“While writing a prescription for a woman who was
especially weighed down by the financial burden of the
treatment, I was interested to hear her say suddenly:
‘Please do not give me big bills, because I cannot swallow
them.’ Of course she meant to say pills.”

The following example illustrates a rather serious case
of self-betrayal through a mistake in talking. Some
accessory details justify full reproduction as first printed
by Dr. A. A. Brill.¹⁾

¹⁾ Zentralb. f. Psychoanalyse, ii. Jahrg. 1. Cf. also Brill’s
Psycho-analysis: Its Theories and Practical Application, p. 202.
Saunders, Philadelphia and London.

73

“While walking one night with Dr. Frink we acciden-
tally met a colleague, Dr. P., whom I had not seen for
years, and of whose private life I knew nothing. We were
naturally very pleased to meet again, and on my invitation
he accompanied us to a café, where we spent about two
hours in pleasant conversation. To my question as to
whether he was married he gave a negative answer, and
added, ‘Why should a man like me marry?’
“On leaving the café, he suddenly turned to me and
said: ‘I should like to know what you would do in a case
like this: I know a nurse who was named as co-respondent
in a divorce case. The wife sued the husband for divorce
and named her as co-respondent, and he got the divorce.’
I interrupted him, saying, ‘You mean she got the divorce.’
He immediately corrected himself, saying “Yes, she got
the divorce,’ and continued to tell how the excitement of
the trial had affected this nurse to such an extent that she
became nervous and took to drink. He wanted me to
advise him how to treat her.
“As soon as I had corrected his mistake I asked him to
explain it, but, as is usually the case, he was surprised at
my question. He wanted to know whether a person had
no right to make mistakes in talking. I explained to him
that there is a reason for every mistake, and that if he had
not told me that he was unmarried, I would say that he
was the hero of the divorce case in question, and that the
mistake showed that he wished he had obtained the
divorce instead of his wife, so as not to be obliged to pay
alimony and to be permitted to marry again in New York
State.
“He stoutly denied my interpretation, but his emotional
agitation, followed by loud laughter, only strengthened
my suspicions. To my appeal that he should tell the

74

truth ‘for science’s sake,’ he said, ‘Unless you wish me to
lie you must believe that I was never married, and hence
your psycho-
analytic interpretation is all wrong.’ He,
however, added that it was dangerous to be with a pefson
who paid attention to such little things. Then he suddenly
remembered that he had another appointment and left us.

“Both Dr. Frink and I were convinced that my inter-
pretation of his lapsus linguæ was correct, and I decided
to corroborate or disprove it by further investigation.
The next day I found a neighbour and old friend of Dr.
P., who confirmed my interpretation in every particular.
The divorce was granted to Dr. P.’s wife a few weeks
before, and a nurse was named as co-
respondent. A few
weeks later I met Dr. P., and he told me that he was
thoroughly convinced of the Freudian mechanisms.”

The self-
betrayal is just as plain in the following case
reported by Otto Rank:–

A father who was devoid of all patriotic feeling and
desirous of educating his children to be just as free from
this superfluous sentiment, reproached his sons for
participating in a patriotic demonstration, and rejected
their reference to a similar behaviour of their uncle with
these words: “You are not obliged to imitate him; why,
he is an idiot.” The astonished features of the children
at their father’s unusual tone aroused him to the fact that
he had made a mistake, and he remarked apologetically,
“Of course, I wished to say patriot.”

When such a speech-
blunder occurs in a ‘serious
squabble and reverses the intended meaning of one of
the disputants, at once it puts him at a disadvantage with
his adversary–a disadvantage which the latter seldom
fails to utilize.

This clearly shows that although people are unwilling

75

to accept the theory of my conception and are not inclined
to forgo the convenience that is connected with the
tolerance of a faulty action, they nevertheless interpret
speech-
blunders and other faulty acts in a manner similar
to the one presented in this book. The merriment and
derision which are sure to be evoked at the decisive
moment through such linguistic mistakes speak conclus-
ively against the generally accepted convention that
such a speech-
blunder is a lapsus linguæ and psychologic-
ally of no importance. It was no less a man than the
German Chancellor, Prince Bulow, who endeavoured to
save the situation through such a protest when the
wording of his defence of his Emperor (November, 1907)
turned into the opposite through a speech-
blunder.

“Concerning the present, the new epoch of Emperor
Wilhelm II, I can only repeat what I said a year ago, that
it would be unfair and unjust to speak of a coterie of respon-
sible advisers around our Emperor (loud calls, ‘Irrespon-
sible!’)—to speak of irresponsible advisers. Pardon the
lapsus linguæ” (hilarity).

A nice example of speech-
blunder, which aims not so
much at the betrayal of the speaker as at the enlightenment
of the listener outside the scene, is found in Wallenstein
(Piccolomini, Act I, Scene 5), and shows us that the poet
who here uses this means is well versed in the mechanism
and intent of speech-
blunders. In the preceding scene
Max Piccolomini was passionately in favour of the ducal
party, and was enthusiastic over the blessings of the
peace which became known to him in the course of a
journey while accompanying Wallenstein’s daughter to
the encampment. He leaves his father and the Court
ambassador, Questenberg, in great consternation. The
scene proceeds as follows:—

76

QUESTENBERG. Woe unto us! Are matters thus? Friend,
should we allow him to go there with this false opinion, and
not recall him at once in order to open his eyes instantly.

OCTAVIO (rousing himself from profound meditation). He
has already opened mine, and I see more than pleases me.

QUESTENBERG. What is it, friend?

OCTAVIO. A curse on that journey!

QUESTENBERG. Why? What is it?

OCTAVIO. Come! I must immediately follow the unlucky
trail, must see with my own eyes—come— (Wishes to lead
him away.)

QUESTENBERG. What is the matter? Where?

OCTAVIO (urging). To her!

QUESTENBERG. To—?

OCTAVIO (corrects himself). To the duke! Let us go, etc.

The slight speech-blunder to her in place of to him is
meant to betray the fact to us that the father has seen
through his son’s motive for espousing the other cause,
while the courtier complains that “he speaks to him
altogether in riddles.”

Another example wherein a poet makes use of a speech-
blunder was discovered by Otto Rank in Shakespeare. I
quote Rank’s report from the Zentralblatt für Psycho-
analyse, I. 3.

“A poetic speech-blunder, very delicately motivated
and technically remarkably well utilized, which, like the
one pointed out by Freud in Wallenstein (Zur Psycho-
pathologie des Alltagslebens, 2nd Edition, p. 48), not only
shows that poets knew the mechanism and sense of this
error, but also presupposes an understanding of it on the
part of the hearer, can be found in Shakespeare’s Merchant
of Venice (Act III, Scene 2). By the will of her father,
Portia was bound to select a husband through a lottery.
She escaped all her distasteful suitors by lucky chance.

78

justifies the citation of a third example which was reported
by Dr. E. Jones.¹⁾

“Our great novelist, George Meredith, in his master-
piece, The Egoist, shows an even finer understanding of
the mechanism. The plot of the novel is, shortly, as
follows: Sir Willoughby Patterne, an aristocrat greatly
admired by his circle, becomes engaged to a Miss Con-
stantia Durham. She discovers in him an intense egoism,
which he skilfully conceals from the world, and to escape
the marriage she elopes with a Captain Oxford.’ Some
years later Patterne becomes engaged to a Miss Clara
Middleton, and most of the book is taken up with a
detailed description of the conflict that arises in her mind
on also discovering his egoism. External circumstances
and her conception of honour hold her to her pledge,
while he becomes more and more distasteful in her eyes.
She partly confided in his cousin and secretary, Vernon
Whitford, the man whom she ultimately marries, but
from a mixture of motives he stands aloof.

“In the soliloquy Clara speaks as follows: ‘If some
noble gentleman could see me as I am and not disdain to
aid me! Oh! to be caught out of this prison of thorns and
brambles. I cannot tear my own way out. I am a coward.
A beckoning of a finger would change me, I believe. I
could fly bleeding and through hootings to a comrade.
. . . Constantia met a soldier. Perhaps she prayed and
her prayer was answered. She did ill. But, oh, how I love
her for it! His name was Harry Oxford. . . . She did not
waver, she cut the links, she signed herself over. Oh,
brave girl, what do you think of me? But I have no Harry
Whitford; I am alone. . . .’ The sudden consciousness

¹⁾Jones, Papers on Psychoanalysis, p. 60.

79

that she had put another name for Oxford struck her a
buffet, drowning her in crimson.

“The fact that both men’s names end in ‘ford’ evidently
renders the confounding of them more easy, and would by
many be regarded as an adequate cause for this, but the
real underlying motive for it is plainly indicated by the
author. In another passage the same lapsus occurs, and
is followed by the hesitation and change of subject that
one is familiar with in psychoanalysis when a half-
conscious complex is touched. Sir Willoughby patroniz-
ingly says of Whitford: ‘False alarm. The resolution to
do anything unaccustomed is quite beyond poor old
Vernon.’ Clara replies: ‘But if Mr. Oxford–Whitford
… your swans, coming sailing up the lake; how beauti-
ful they look when they are indignant! I was going to ask
you, surely men witnessing a marked admiration for some
one else will naturally be discouraged?’ Sir Willoughby
stiffened with sudden enlightenment.”

“In still another passage Clara, by another lapsus,
betrays her secret wish that she was on a more intimate
footing with Vernon Whitford. Speaking to a boy friend,
she says, ‘Tell Mr. Vernon–tell Mr. Whitford.’ ”

The conception of speech-blunders here defended can
be readily verified in the smallest details. I have been
able to demonstrate repeatedly that the most insignificant
and most natural cases of speech-blunders have their good
sense, and admit of the same interpretation as the more
striking examples. A patient who, contrary to my wishes
but with firm personal motives, decided upon a short trip
to Budapest, justified herself by saying that she was going
for only three days, but she blundered and said for only
three weeks. She betrayed her secret feeling that, to
spite me, she preferred spending three weeks to three

80

days in that society which I considered unfit for her.

One evening, wishing to excuse myself for not having
called for my wife at the theatre, I said: “I was at the
theatre at ten minutes after ten.” I was corrected: “You
meant to say before ten o’clock.” Naturally I wanted to
say before ten. After ten would certainly be no excuse.
I had been told that the theatre programme read, “Fin-
ished before ten o’clock.” When I arrived at the theatre
I found the foyer dark and the theatre empty. Evidently
the performance was over earlier and my wife did not
wait for me. When I looked at the clock it still wanted
five minutes to ten. I determined to make my case more
favourable at home, and say that it was ten minutes to
ten. Unfortunately, the speech-blunder spoiled the
intent and laid bare my dishonesty, in which I acknow-
ledged more than there really was to confess.

This leads us to those speech disturbances which can
no longer be described as speech-blunders, for they do
not injure the individual word, but affect the rhythm and
execution of the entire speech, as, for example, the stam-
mering and stuttering of embarrassment. But here, as in
the former cases, it is the inner conflict that is betrayed
to us through the disturbance in speech. I really do not
believe that any one will make mistakes in talking in an
audience with His Majesty, in a serious love declaration,
or in defending one’s name and honour before a jury; in
short, people make no mistakes where they are all there,
as the saying goes. Even in criticizing an author’s style
we are allowed and accustomed to follow the principle
of explanation, which we cannot miss in the origin of a
single speech-blunder. A clear and unequivocal manner
of writing shows us that here the author is in harmony
with himself, but where we find a forced and involved

81

expression, aiming at more than one target, as appro-
priately expressed, we can thereby recognize the parti-
cipation of an unfinished and complicated thought, or we
can hear through it the stifled voice of the author’s self-
criticism.¹

1 “Ce qu’on conçoit bien
S’énonce clairement,
Et les mots pour le dire
Arrivent aisement.”
Boileau, Art Poétique.