VI. UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION…

VI. UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION

Many of the exhausting neurotic and psycho-neurotic affections so common in recent years are largely due to the failure of patients to secure such mental relaxation as will permit complete repair of nervous waste. We are proud of being a generation of specialists. Some men never get completely away from the set of thoughts with which they are occupied in their particular specialty. Waking or sleeping these thoughts are with them. It is almost impossible, then, for cells of the central nervous system to secure such rest as they need. Cells must be put at absolute rest so that nutritional processes may go on entirely undisturbed, and every portion of the cell be renewed in vigor. Re-creation, in its original meaning, is exactly what must be provided for nerve cells.

The trouble is not alone that men occupy a very narrow set of brain cells with their special interest, and make all their energy pass through that set, but among men who are lacking in a certain insulation in the nervous system, this particular set of cells continues to be active, even at times when they think they are resting or diverting themselves. Unconscious cerebration (the occupation of the mind with subjects when we are not deliberately giving our attention to them) is a common phenomenon in human psychology. With the rise of extreme specialization, it has become even more dangerous than before. In the past unconscious cerebration might mean any occupation, with any one of a number of interests. At the present it is likely to mean concentration of thought on a particular subject with which the brain is prone to be occupied more than is good for it, even during the hours of ordinary labor. It seems worth while to discuss at some length, then, the subject of unconscious cerebration, because it constitutes the pathological physiology of many nervous states that we see in modern life.

Frequency of Unconscious Cerebration.--The mind, having been set to work over a given thought, continues at it sub-consciously, even while apparently completely occupied with something else. Most people who devote themselves to the intellectual life have experienced phenomena more striking and going much farther in unconscious cerebration than this. Most writers have a common experience: if they arrange their thoughts on a given subject and then turn aside to something else, they find, when they go over the same subject next day, much more material than came the day before. The thoughts for an article will often gradually accumulate by unconscious cerebration after the process has been consciously started.

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At intervals during the next few days succeeding the determination to write a certain article (at moments when no conscious thought is being given to it), ideas crop up that help to fill out the original scheme of thought, and if these are jotted down, a good deal of intellectual work is accomplished without the necessity for that labor over a desk that most of us scheme to avoid. The more familiar literary work becomes, the more frequent are these experiences, and one occasionally wakes up with a thought that opens up a new vista and adds valuable material to what has already been accumulated. If the subject is a large one, as for a book, then most writers will probably confess that some of their best thoughts have come in this "hit and miss" fashion rather than at the times when they were seriously applying themselves to elaborating their theme.

Inspiration.--Some of the great literary writers have felt that their brain work was so independent of themselves that the word inspiration properly suited what they were accomplishing. Thackeray destroyed sheet after sheet of manuscript, utterly dissatisfied with it until, as the result of keeping at it, inspiration would come. Then he would be able to fill up rapidly many pages with work so finished that it needed little correction or polish. George Eliot, at times, became so absorbed in her writing that it almost appeared to her that some other personality than her own was wielding the pen. Her imaginary characters became real to her, and it was while under the stimulus of this impression of living in an imaginative world with them that she succeeded in accomplishing her best work. Many other authors were, of course, very different. Some of them ridiculed the idea of waiting for inspiration. Most of them, however, found it difficult to begin their task at certain times, yet if they forced themselves to it, and once got their minds going, the line of thought ran on easily and, at the close of the task, they looked back with pleasure and wonder that they were able to accomplish so much.

Illustrations.--This is true not only of literary work, whose main purpose is the arrangement of details of information of various kinds with personal opinions concerning it, but also of original thought of any kind. Many stories of poets are told illustrating this. They wander round with pencils and jot down thoughts that come here and there at what are called moments of inspiration. The poets dream over their subjects, catch fleeting thoughts that, vague at first, sing themselves into musical expression. Music seems to be on the same plane with poetry, for there is the well-known story of the distinguished German musician who, walking with his wife in the park, found himself without paper at the moment when he had an inspiration. He used his own cuffs to write upon, and then finally impressed those of his wife into the service of carrying home the precious musical motifs that he was afraid might not come again if he allowed the favorable moment to pass without recording them.

There are stories of Tennyson finding some of his most perfect lines in the fields, after hours of seclusion and effort in his study had failed to round them out to his satisfaction, or dreaming them into shape, or waking to find one ready made to be written down. The letters of Wordsworth tell how often such incidents happened in his life.

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SLEEP COMMUNICATIONS

Any one who has been thinking much for several days about a problem is likely to wake up with the thought that he has dreamed a solution of it, though unfortunately the solution has not remained in his memory. It seems as if a communication has been made to him during sleep. I have discussed dream life with many men engaged in serious work, and practically all of them confess to such experiences. Preoccupation of mind with a subject during the waking hours leads to at least some occupation of mind with the same subject during sleep. This unconscious occupation must often require rather strenuous attention, exhausting nutrition, using up nerve force and hampering the rest that is so important for tired human nature. [Footnote 17]

[Footnote 17: A number of poetic products of dreams are in our literature, some of them interesting for more than their curious origin. Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, in his latest volume of poems, "The Comfort of the Hills," made an interesting contribution to the psychology of dreams by publishing two poems which were composed by him while asleep. The little poem, "Which?" has all the curious alliterativeness and frequent rhyme that is so likely to be noted in expressions that come during sleep, or just as we awake. The other is more like a somnambulistic effort. What we might suggest here is that the habit of poetizing during sleep would surely be dangerous to any one less eminently sane than their author. We give them as curious examples that will interest patients who complain that their dreams are too vivid.

APRIL FIRST

Come, let us be the willing fools Of April's earliest day. And dream we own all pleasant things The years have reft away.

'Tis but to take the poet's wand, A touch or here or there, And I have lost that ancient stoop, And you are young and fair.

Ah, no! The years that gave and took Have left with you and me The wisdom of the widening stream; Trust we the larger sea.

WHICH?

Birth-day or Earth-day, Which the true mirth-day? Earth-day or birth-day, Which the well-worth day?

For further details on this subject, see the chapter on Dreams.]

Art in Dreams.--Many a painter testifies that as he slept interesting details have been added to his scheme for a picture. Mr. Huntington, who was for so long president of the National Academy, once told me that some of the arrangements of his famous picture, "Mercy's Dream" in the Corcoran Art Gallery at Washington, had come to him during sleep. Giovanni Dupre, the French sculptor, confessed that the ideas for his beautiful pieta had practically all come to him in a dream. He had been thinking for a long time how he should arrange it, without allowing any of the ideas of sculptors whose treatment of the subject was well known to influence him too much, and had almost felt that it would be impossible to make anything individual. While deeply occupied with it one day he fell asleep, and when he awoke the whole scheme was clear.

Mathematical Dreams.--Such phenomena of unconscious cerebration are not uncommon in the exact sciences. Some of the best examples of these {137} curious phenomena that we have are to be found in the history of them. We all know the stories of mathematicians who, occupied deeply with a problem which they have been unable to solve, have gone to bed still thinking about it, have slept deeply and, as they thought, dreamlessly, and yet they have waked in the morning to find by the bedside the problem all worked out in their own penciling--all accomplished during a somnambulistic state. Missing factors have been found in dreams; mistakes in the working out of problems have been clearly pointed out in dreams, so that, on awaking, the calculator could at once correct his calculations, and even serious errors have been thus corrected.

Agassiz's Experience.--Some examples of these experiences in other sciences are striking. One that is likely to be impressive because it occurred in the experience of Professor Louis Agassiz, seems worth reporting. [Footnote 18]

[Footnote 18: "Louis Agassiz, His Life and Correspondence," edited by Elizabeth Cary Agassiz, Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1885.]

It is interesting both as psychological fact and as showing how, sleeping and waking, his work was ever present with him. He had been for two weeks striving to decipher the somewhat obscure impression of a fossil fish on the stone slab in which it was preserved. Weary and perplexed he put his work aside at last, and tried to dismiss it from his mind. Shortly after, he waked one night persuaded that while asleep he had seen his fish with all the missing features perfectly restored. But when he tried to hold and make fast the image it escaped him. Nevertheless he went early to the Jardin des Plantes, thinking that on looking anew at the impression he should see something that would put him on the track of his vision. In vain--the blurred record was as blank as ever. The next night he saw the fish again, but with no more satisfactory result. When he woke it disappeared from his memory as before. Hoping that the same experience might be repeated, on the third night he placed a pencil and paper beside his bed before going to sleep. Accordingly toward morning the fish reappeared in his dream, confusedly at first, but at last with such distinctness that he had no longer any doubt as to its zoological characters. Still half dreaming, in perfect darkness, he traced these characters on the sheet of paper at the bedside. In the morning he was surprised to see in his nocturnal sketch features which he thought it impossible the fossil itself should reveal. He hastened to the Jardin des Plantes, and, with his drawing as a guide, succeeded in chiseling away the surface of the stone under which the portions of the fish proved to be hidden. When wholly exposed, it corresponded with his drawing, and his dream, and he succeeded in classifying it with ease. He often spoke of this as a good illustration of the well-known fact that when the body is at rest the tired brain will do the work it refused before.

Hilprecht's Sleep Vision.--Quite as surprising a dream was that of Prof. Hilprecht, of the University of Pennsylvania. He had been trying for some time to decipher certain characters on ancient cylinders from the Orient. In spite of much hard mental labor he had been utterly unable to reach definite conclusions. In the midst of work on the subject he dreamt one night that a priest of the olden time appeared to him and read off the inscription that he had in vain been trying to decipher. Immediately after waking he told his wife of his dream and wrote down the interpretation that had thus been given. It was quite different from anything that he himself had obtained any hint of in his previous studies. When he got back to the inscription he found that this interpretation would satisfy the conditions better than any other, and there seemed no doubt that it represented the missing solution.

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Somnambulism.--These curiously vivid dreams are occasionally associated with somnambulistic phenomena. Sometimes very definite purposes, requiring careful adaptation of means to ends, are accomplished in the somnambulistic state, and yet the actions are completely forgotten. I have recently been consulted about a case in which a young woman, on a visit to a family, had been shown some pretty though not expensive jewels. Evidently the guest envied their possession, for she got up during sleep and took the jewels and hid them. There seems no reason to doubt her statement that she remembered nothing at all about the incident. The taking was not attributed to her. There had been previous experiences of the same kind with things belonging to this young woman's sister. Somnambulism represents a degree of unconscious cerebration that may have serious results. Combinations of intellectual work with somnambulism are not infrequent, though many of the stories that are told are exaggerated. Some of them are authenticated. Ribot has a typical example of intellectual accomplishment, in a somnambulistic condition, that shows how far this may go:

A clear case of somnambulism was that of a clergyman, whom his wife saw rise from bed in his sleep, go to a writing table, and write rapidly for some minutes. This done he returned to bed, and slept on until morning. On awaking, he told her that in a dream he had worked out an argument for a sermon, of which he now retained no recollection whatever. She led him to the writing table, and showed him the written sheet upon which he found his argument worked out in the most satisfactory manner.

PATHOLOGICAL SIGNIFICANCE

Unconscious cerebration is not, then, a trivial matter, and not an unusual experience. It probably occurs in every individual to a much greater extent than he thinks, unless he is engaged in analyzing his mental processes and their ways rather carefully. This constitutes one of the dangers of the intellectual life, which must also be guarded against in business life or in any absorbing occupation. When the mind has become intensely occupied with a subject, it is not easy to relinquish it. Even when we turn to something else, mental activity in the old groove continues to some extent, and so will prevent the rest that is necessary for the repair of tissue. Under these conditions the re-creation that is so important does not take place quite as well as it should, and even sleep does not relieve us from the burden of mental work. Mental exhaustion will result as a consequence of constant occupation, and so mental relaxation must be secured. Deliberate means and methods must be employed in order that we may not deceive ourselves into thinking we are securing mental recreation, though all the time certain exhausting mental processes continue to be active.

Dual Mental Occupation.--Many are inclined to think that reading, especially the reading of newspapers and magazines, which has become so popular in our time, furnishes an occupation of mind that enables one, for a time at least, to get away from cares and worries. This is probably true when the news is of special interest, or there is some form of excitement, or at the beginning of such reading before one grows accustomed to the usual {139} formula of the magazine stories; but as years go on and cares increase, such reading does not afford an occupation of mind that enables one to throw them off. It helps to pass the time, but the cares and worries keep insistently presenting themselves, and the effort to inhibit them, and at the same time pay some attention to what we are reading, makes a double task. Such reading, then, far from being restful, rather adds to the burden of care and to the labor of the mind, for besides the conscious cerebration, there is the undercurrent of subconscious cerebration disturbing the rest of cells that should be free from labor. The constant renewal of effort to keep one train of thought from interfering with another is itself a waste of nervous energy. This whole matter of reading is coming to occupy a new place in the minds of educators, especially of those who are trying to realize the scientific significance of various phases of education. In his address as the President of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, at the Winnipeg meeting in 1909, Prof. J. J. Thompson, the British physicist, sums up the value of reading as an intellectual exercise in a way that would not be gratifying to those who, in recent years, have apparently accepted the doctrine that in much reading there is much information and, therefore, much education. He says:

It is possible to read books to pass examinations without the higher qualities of the mind being called into play. Indeed, I doubt if there is any process in which the mind is more quiescent than in reading without interest. I might appeal to the widespread habit of reading in bed as a prevention of insomnia as a proof of this.

Social Duties.--So-called social duties are, in this respect, very like reading. When we meet new people who are interesting, we get diversion of mind in their company. When the people with whom we are, however, already familiar, and perhaps most of them a little tiresome, then what is presumed to be a social diversion becomes merely a bore, all the problems of the day obtrude themselves, of real rest there is none, and re-creation can scarcely be possible. Nearly the same thing is true of the present-day theater, after we have become used to its offerings. A serious play, well constructed and with life's problems touched deeply, may grip us and take us out of ourselves, constituting a complete and magnificent diversion. For a limited number of people music accomplishes this purpose. Unfortunately, the number is very limited, and for those for whom music is the greatest diversion, it sometimes constitutes in itself a poignant source of mental exhaustion. Music may be a very trying thing, especially for women, and for those who have souls extremely sensitive to its manifold effects.

Upon these considerations, the importance of unconscious cerebration is brought home to the physician. It is impossible for a great many people to keep their minds inactive, and this is particularly true of two classes of people: those who have superabundant mental energy and those who lack self-control. To both of these classes of men and women, the physician must point out the dangers of unconscious cerebration--the occupation of mind with some subject, even at times while they imagine they are occupied with something else, or even during sleep. Such continuous occupation with a single subject is dangerous. Physicians must emphasize that many supposed {140} mental occupations are really so superficial that they allow other more exhausting processes to continue below them in the sphere of consciousness. As a consequence, the mind, instead of being relaxed, is really more tense than before, because occupied with two sets of thoughts. Very often it would be better for such people to continue with the more serious problem until its solution came, or until they realized that they must divert themselves.

MENTAL RELAXATION

What is important for mental relaxation, apparently, is not that a man shall try to set his mind at absolute rest, for that seems to be impossible, if a man really has a mind; nor that he shall occupy it with trivial things (because his interest will not be caught by them and will revert to the last serious thing that he was doing), but that he shall have an outlet for mental activity in entirely another direction from that to which he usually devotes himself. In other words, it is important that a man shall have a hobby, and that he shall ride that hobby whenever his ordinary business, whatever that may be, will permit him, and the more interesting the hobby, the better.

REMEDIAL MEASURES

The most important general remedy for over-prolonged mental occupation with a single subject, is some outdoor sport or form of exercise that requires all the attention. Horseback exercise is particularly valuable; boating, especially where the man has charge of the boat himself and where he has to have his wits about him, and the various sports. It is particularly important that men should not be alone during the taking of their exercise and diversion of mind. Above all, human interests take a man outside of himself and keep him from disturbing his mental equipoise by too much devotion to a single subject.

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VII. DISTANT MENTAL INFLUENCE

There is a very general impression that it is possible, at least under certain circumstances, for one human mind to influence another at a distance without any of the ordinary known means of communication. Many people have had the experience of thinking about a friend whom they have not seen for a long while, and shortly after meeting him. Sometimes it is found that the friend was making up his mind to bring about the meeting just about the time that the thought of him came. Many have had the experience of writing a letter and having it cross in the mails with another from their correspondent, evidently written within a few hours, though there had perhaps been no communication for weeks or months before. There are people who insist that they can, by concentrating the mind and fixing their eyes on the head of a {141} person some distance in front of them in a theater, or a railway car, cause the person to turn around. There are others who say that by thinking strongly of some person in a distant part of a large room, that person can be made to think of them. In general, there are many persons who are quite sure that there is evidence enough to indicate the possibility of distant mental influence, or, as it has come to be called learnedly, telepathy.

Telepathy, from the two Greek words, tele, at a distance, and pathos, feeling, has been much discussed in recent years. Many people who use the word glibly are inclined to think they know much about it. A long word, however, is not an explanation, and, just here, George Eliot's expression "we map out our ignorance in long Greek names" is worth recalling. There are a number of phenomena that seem to require some such theory as that of telepathy, but the phenomena are still under discussion and their significance is by no means clear. As we understand it, telepathy may mean either thought transference or mind reading, that is, either the active process by which we communicate our thought to someone at a distance, or the passive process by which we receive communications from others. These thoughts include the idea of mental influence at a distance; that is, we can by willing influence the wills, or at least the motives to action, of people at a distance and they may, in turn, influence ours. The further thought has come, that since the mind largely influences the body in matters of health, so mental influence from a distance by affecting mind, may either improve or injure health.

Some sensitive people are disturbed by the thought that they may be influenced from a distance by others, or at least that suggestions that come to them, may be due to telepathic influence. Investigation would probably show that there are at least as many persons disturbed by real or supposed telepathic influences as there are of those who have hallucinations. Sometimes it is said that such persons are not quite sane, but the more experience a physician has with them, the more he dismisses the thought of insanity and proceeds to use contrary suggestion and frank discussion, in order to counteract the mental influences. Insane persons think they are being influenced from a distance just as they hear voices and see visions, but such hallucinations may occur to the sane, as apparent telepathic experiences may also.

Witchcraft.--It used to be a common belief that people could be influenced, even at a distance, by the mere evil wishes or intentions of others. After all, the old beliefs in witchcraft that were so common in Europe and in America until well into the eighteenth century represent the conviction of mankind that at least certain people might, from a distance, seriously influence them for evil. Always the fear of malign influence was uppermost in people's minds and literally hundreds of thousands of witches were prosecuted, and many thousands of them put to death, because of this belief in the possibility of their working evil to others at a distance, merely by willing it. Occasionally some such material auxiliary to malign purpose as an image in wax of the one to whom the evil was to be done was used. Into this the ill wisher stuck pins according to the part that he or she would want to be affected in the enemy, but as a rule the will, and nothing more, was used.

Absent Treatment.--In our own time a system of healing, that has attracted many followers, has taken up the idea of beneficent mental influence at a distance. "Absent treatment" has now become a familiar expression. {142} That those who believe in such favorable influence at a distance should also believe in unfavorable influence seems inevitable. As a matter of fact, we know that the founder of this special sect always insisted on the power for evil over herself and her followers of those who want to exert the injurious influence of animal magnetism--malicious animal magnetism as it is called. A very definite attempt was made to bring a case of this kind before the courts, the subject matter of which exactly resembled some of the old witchcraft trials in New England! And in spite of the insistence and emphatic assertion that no such thing is intended, from the principles that are accepted the necessary logical conclusion is a return to the belief in witchcraft.

Malignant Magnetism.--As a number of persons are likely to fear such evil influence of others upon them, the question of the possibility of it must come up for discussion in order that its status may be clear in the physician's mind, for by just as much as he can make certain to the patient that modern psychology refuses to accept distant influence, will he be able to reassure his patient. Of course, the patients who come with such complaints have usually some element of mental trouble. The alienist sees any number of people who are sure that enemies at a distance are working spells upon them, some by electrical, some by magnetic means, and some by telepathic absent treatment, or absent ill-wishing. Such notions are the delusions of the disequilibrated and these persons often cannot be reasoned with. Yet very often a distinct delusion may be reasoned out of even a subrational person, if it is taken seriously, and some striking expression of its irrationality and of its total disagreement with scientific views can be shown to the patient.

Action Without a Medium.--The medieval scholastic philosophers quoted as an absolutely accepted principle the Latin axiom, "actio in distans repugnat." Literally translated this means action at a distance is repugnant to reason. Expressed less technically, the principle declares that any action of one body on another, where there is no medium connecting them, no link that in some way places them in contact with one another, is absurd. The expression in distans means that the two bodies are separated from one another and stand in two places having no connection of any kind. This principle would ordinarily seem to preclude the possibility of one person acting on another, unless there is some mode of communication.

Crookes' Theory.--Sir William Crookes, at a meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science about ten years ago, in discussing telepathy, directed attention to the fact that there exists by scientific hypothesis, generally accepted, a definite medium of communication by which minds at a distance might influence one another. The medium is the ether which, according to physical theories, besides carrying light, also carries heat and electrical waves, and in recent years is recognized as transmitting the impulses of wireless telegraphy. It is possible that when the cells of certain human minds are stimulated to a particular phase of vibration, they may, even at long distances, affect the cells of other individuals that resemble them, or are attuned to them, that is, have the same moment of vibration. This is the principle which underlies wireless telegraphy. Whether the vibrations of living nerve cells can be made thus to radiate out over the ether and arouse in any way other cells, especially to the extent of communicating ideas, is a matter still open for investigation. The possibility of this occurring {143} cannot be denied. We are, however, still in the presence of a condition and not a theory. The question is whether minds are thus influenced at a distance--whether we have data enough to establish the occurrence of telepathy or mental communications of any kind at a distance.

No Practical Thought Transfer.--At the beginning, it is of the greatest importance to recall that, while many people think there must be something in telepathy and presume that the investigations of recent years have shown not only the possibility of the communication of ideas from mind to mind and of the mental influence of one person over another, even at long distances, but also its actual occurrence, yet all our ordinary life is founded on the absolute negation of any such phenomenon. For instance, our courts of law are conducted in direct contradiction of the possibility of anything like telepathy. Juries are summoned of twelve good men and true who, as far as possible, know nothing about the prisoner and as little as may be about the case. They are supposed to get all their information in the court room. We do not believe that any of them by any wonderful process might be able to know what was going on in the prisoner's mind in spite of his plea. Nor do we think for a moment that they can know what is going on, apart from what he communicates in evidence, in the mind of any witness. Neither is there the slightest presumption that the judge or any of our lawyers can know anything about what is in the minds of any of the persons present, except as they reveal it by outward signs.

A lawyer who could employ telepathy with success would be simply invaluable. Before a month had passed, he would have all the business of the criminal courts in his hands.

Mental Retention.--In answer to this it may be said that these represent conditions in which determined effort is made to keep all possible information that may be in the minds of all concerned from passing to others. Everyone concedes the power of such absolute self retention of our thoughts, when we deliberately wish to keep them from being known to others. When people wish to communicate their thoughts to others, then it may be different. In that case the sending and receiving minds are both active and the conditions for interaction, if it were at all possible, would be favorable. Just this condition obtains in the court room every day. An innocent prisoner wants with all his heart and soul to communicate the idea of his innocence to the judge and jury. Of course, he does not succeed by telepathic means in transferring to them any inkling of the truth. On the contrary, his very nervousness and anxiety to set himself right before them will sometimes actually cause prejudice.

The rule that has thus been exemplified in our courts of law holds for all business transactions. The ordinary customs of business presume that the buyer does not know what the seller paid for the particular article that is being exchanged, and it is on the strength of this that profit becomes possible. A few telepathic merchants or customers would work serious havoc in business life.

What thus holds for important affairs in life is just as strikingly exemplified in the trivial round of social existence and in our intercourse with friends. Suppose one woman knew what another woman thought of her!

That charming, old-fashioned institution "courting" would go entirely by {144} the board, if there were any such thing as real telepathy. In general, social life in all its features would become very, very different to what it is.

How Much Slight External Expression Conveys.--Mrs. Coventry Patmore, the English poet's wife, once told a little story of some people who lived in a distant island where the inhabitants possessed tails. These tails were, as they are on the animals, organs of expression, but of involuntary and quite unconscious expression. It was utterly impossible for the people there to say nice things to one another when they had quite other things in mind, because if they did not like the person their tails hung down behind; if they did like them they wagged rather vigorously, no matter what their owner might be saying. This simple revelation of feelings, so much less than even the slightest degree of telepathy would occasion, was quite enough to work a revolution in the social affairs of this romantic island. It made the people truthful and candid in their relations with one another.

Negation of Telepathy.--There is, perhaps, some evidence of the occurring of telepathy in special cases, but all of our present-day life is organized on a firm basis of complete negation of the existence or occurrence of telepathy to even the slightest degree. Every-day experiences teach us that husbands and wives, even those who have the greatest love and confidence toward each other, do not really know their life partners, for it frequently happens that something turns up which reveals an unsuspected side of character even after many years of intimate union.

We human beings are "infinitely repellent particles," to use the phrase, of Matthew Arnold. We never get close enough to one another to have a real glimpse into the depths of other minds. The information that is supposed to pass by telepathy from one person to another is so often just the kind that we would most sedulously conceal. There is extreme unlikelihood then that any such passage of information takes place. The cases cited, as proof of this transference of thought, are much more likely to be coincidences than any evidence of true telepathy.

Supposed Examples of Telepathy.--In the first place, though there are opportunities for the exhibition of the phenomena of telepathy every day and every hour of existence, the cases in which it is supposed to occur are extremely rare and are distant from one another, both in time and place. Even the people who claim to have had the phenomena of telepathy happen to them once or twice, do not pretend that it is at all a common occurrence with them, and as for the supposed exhibitions of telepathy upon the stage, these have been exposed over and over again as the simplest fakes.

As to the cases of telepathy that have been reported, with careful collection of evidence, to the psychic research societies, and which are few in number, though some of them are very difficult to explain, there is no reason why they should not be striking coincidences rather than startling examples of telepathy. An example will illustrate what I mean:

A few years ago what seemed to be a complete case of telepathy was reported in connection with a railroad accident. A Western man about to take an express train for the East was the object of a good deal of solicitude. There had previously been a series of accidents to this very fast train which he was to take. This fact had been discussed in the family, and did not tend to allay the fears of those who remained at home. During the night the {145} train actually left the track, and the car in which the subject of the story was asleep rolled down the bank.

At the moment his train went down the bank the thought of his wife and daughter came very vividly to his mind. For a moment the awful position in which they would be placed if anything serious happened to him occupied his mind to the exclusion of all other thoughts. As soon as he could, he telegraphed home that he was unhurt, with the understanding that the telegram should not be delivered before the following morning.

During the night mother and daughter sleeping in adjoining rooms were wakened at the same moment, and very seriously disturbed, by something, they knew not quite what. They rose at once to go to each other and met at the door. They felt vaguely that father was in some way connected with their awakening and disturbance of mind. After they received his telegram they were sure that what disturbed them during the night was the telepathic communication of father's danger. Each had, however, deliberately kept from speaking of her impression. When they found that he had passed through the danger unhurt, they were sure that it was a call from him that each had heard.

This bears most of the ear-marks of a genuine case of telepathy. Here are minds whose cells by custom and inheritance are finely attuned to those of a distant mind that is suddenly very much disturbed. If the perturbations of that first mind were carried through the ether by a sort of wireless telegraphy, it would apparently not be very surprising. So carried, they woke the receptive cells of similar minds at a long distance, and mother and daughter felt the thrill at the same instant. Vague though it was, there was a telepathic message.

But there were other passengers in this train who had near and dear relatives, yet none of them received communications. There have been literally hundreds of thousands of other accidents in the past fifty years of railroading in which passengers who have been put in very serious danger, have thought intensely of their loved ones, and yet, there has been at most only a dozen or so examples of vague telepathy of this class. Similar cases to this are extremely rare, though accidents in America are very frequent. At most, then, we are in the presence of a very exceptional case. Such cases would mean nothing as evidence for a scientific law, since they occur so rarely as to aptly exemplify the old adage that the exception proves the rule. The rule evidently is that there is no communication at a distance, hence the surprise when there seems to be some reason for thinking that a communication has actually taken place. Instead of proving that telepathy occurs, such cases make it clear, to the limit of demonstration, that telepathy does not occur unless some extremely special conditions intervene to make it possible.

How much more easy it is to explain such a case on the score of coincidence! Of course, mother and daughter, with father absent, and absent in the midst of what they thought was danger, would go to bed anxiously thinking of him. They would sleep lightly because of the worry. Any slight unusual noise would wake them, and at once the thought of father and his danger would occur to them. If the noise was sudden, and not repeated, and therefore inexplicable to one awakened out of sleep, they would probably be so disturbed that it is easy to understand that they would arise at once and seek each other's company. Their meeting, therefore, in the doorway between their rooms would be readily explicable. Neither would say much {146} about the subject uppermost in her thoughts in order to shield the other. The telegram in the morning would throw a glow of retrospective light on the events and seem to give an entirely new significance to their thoughts. The whole affair, though only a coincidence, would seem to be a demonstration of telepathy.

Even more marvelous instances of coincidence, in which there was no question of anything more than coincidence, have been related. The English Psychical Research Society reported the case of a young man sent to find some trace of his brother who had disappeared mysteriously from a steamer sailing from Plymouth to Lisbon. On board the steamer late at night he stood by the rail thinking of his lost brother and wondering what could possibly have become of him. Suddenly as he looked down into the ocean a body came bobbing up out of the waves almost directly under his gaze. He reported it to the officers of the vessel and it was grappled for and lifted aboard. It proved to be the body of his brother. Is this an example of telepathy, that is, of the mental influence of the perturbed spirit of the live brother upon the dead brother's body floating below the surface? No one would stretch supposed telepathy to that extent. The steamer disturbed the body which had been floating below the surface, as bodies do, gradually developing within themselves the gases of decomposition. After a time any slight disturbance, as, for instance, the booming of a cannon or the passage of even a small boat, will bring a body up. It so happened that the brother was on the spot, and actually thinking of the body, but that was the merest coincidence. There was no connection of cause and effect.

Most of the cases of so-called telepathy can be explained in this way. As we have said, no source of error is so copious as that of concluding that because one thing happens after another therefore the second is caused by the first. People who are so inclined will still continue to accept such a notion of connection of cause and effect, however, and we shall have many cases of supposed telepathy exploited for us on no better grounds than this.

Twins and Telepathy.--There is a definite popular impression that twins are gifted with the power of telepathic communication much more than others. Accepting Sir Wm. Crookes' theory, the possibility of mental reciprocal influence, even at a distance, is greater for them, since their brain cells must be considered as having corresponding moments of vibration. Twins of the same sex, especially those who resemble one another closely, are usually born from a single ovum. The intimate relations of two such beings to each other can be readily understood, so that we have many stories of mental communication at long distances and curious warnings, forebodings and communications of danger, and especially of sickness and death.

Especially does one find stories of wraith-like appearances of one to the other of such persons at the moment of death. A series of these stories, apparently well authenticated, is published by the Psychic Research Society. There are also a number of tales, seemingly well attested, of cloud-like shapes of other persons at the moment of death. As a consequence, there has been developed an idea that there is some evidence of the distinct possibility of such appearances when the soul leaves the body. It, however, seems very doubtful whether these are anything more than a very striking coincidence. Twins are likely to be almost constantly in one another's minds, so there is abundant {147} room for coincidences. But any number of twins have died at a distance from each other without there being any such warning. Occasionally such startling appearances occur in connection with people who are so slightly related, or whose existence bears such slight importance to each other, that it is hard to understand why the appearance may have come. Whether they are anything more than the figment of an excited imagination remains to be seen, for, while we have a little positive evidence, this only emphasizes the possibility of coincidental day-dreaming in nervous persons.

Negative Tests.--We hear much of the possibility of reading minds at a distance, or of getting definite information from sealed documents and the like, but it must not be forgotten that whenever definite conditions have been set down, so that all the actions of the supposed clairvoyant could be controlled, then telepathy has always failed to be manifested. Sir James Simpson, for instance, publicly offered to give a five-hundred-pound note, which he had placed in a safe deposit vault, to anyone who could read its number which he had carefully impressed on his own mind. Needless to say, no one got it. In the days when Bishop, the exhibiting mind reader, was creating such a furore in New York and London by supposedly reading people's minds, Labouchere, the editor of London Truth, offered a similar opportunity to Bishop, but advantage of it was not taken. Bishop's power was entirely due to muscle reading. People make involuntary movements of muscles that are very slight, but sufficient for a trained observer to notice, especially if his hand is on the individual experiencing the emotions, and the consequent muscle reflexes. [Footnote 19] About the middle of the last century, the French Academy made a labored investigation of telepathy and found that whatever there seemed to be in it, when control was not properly kept, it at once was demonstrated to be impossible when conditions were planned so as to prevent deception.

[Footnote 19: The story of Hans, the calculating horse, shows that even animals usually thought rather dull-witted may catch muscle movements so slight as to be scarcely visible to any but one looking particularly for them.]

If patients are worried over disturbing influences from others or the reading of their thoughts or telepathic suggestions, a calm review with them of the practical side of this subject, as we have come to know it in the modern time from actual investigation, will do more than anything else to relieve their apprehensions. Most of these patients are unfortunately insane, but the reasoning will help even some of these. There are some quite rational believers in such manifestations who will be greatly benefitted.

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VIII. SECONDARY PERSONALITY

So much attention has recently been directed to the subject of secondary personality by the startling phenomena described in numerous books and articles on the subject, that a certain class of "nervous" patients have permitted themselves to be influenced by the auto-suggestion, flattering the vanity, that they, too, have a secondary personality. They even do not hesitate to hint that this condition is responsible for many of the failures on {148} their part to do what they ought to do, or at least what they think they would like to do; but self-control and self-discipline require such constant attention and effort that they fail. Even when these patients have not quite reached the persuasion of a complete secondary personality, they at least think that the subconscious (or their subliminal self) plays a large role in their conduct. As a consequence, they assert, it is more or less beyond their power to control themselves, and their responsibility for certain acts is surely somewhat impaired. This is a rather satisfying doctrine for those who do not feel quite equal to the effort of conquering vicious or unfortunate tendencies. Those who like to have some excuse for self-indulgence take refuge in this supposedly scientific explanation to absolve them from blame, and from the necessity of self-control. The drug habitue, the inebriate, the victim of other habits, sometimes hug this flattering invention to their souls, especially when they are of the class who delight in the study of the abnormal. Reform becomes well-nigh impossible as long as such an auto-suggestion of inherent weakness and lack of will-power is at work.

The Other Self.--From the beginning of written history, man has always been inclined to find some scapegoat for his failings. The story of Adam blaming the first fault on the woman and the woman blaming it on the serpent, is a lively symbol of what their descendants have been doing ever since. The less personal the blame is, the better, and the more it can be foisted over on some inevitable condition of human nature, the more generally satisfying it is. A secondary personality can scarcely resent being blamed for its acts by the primary personality to which it is attached, and so the field of auto-suggestion as to the blameless inevitability of certain acts is likely to widen if it is given a quasi-scientific basis. Long ago St. Paul spoke of the law in his members opposed to the higher authority, and declared that the things he would do he did not, while what he would not do he sometimes did. There is no doubt that there are two natures in the curious personality of man. Everyone at times has the uncanny feeling that there is something within almost apart from himself, leading him in ways that he does not quite understand. Usually the leading is away from what is considered best in us. But those who have dwelt much on the better side of man and have tried to climb above mere selfish aims, have realized that there is also a power within them leading to higher paths. Indeed, some of the greatest thoughts that men think, and the resolves that lift them up to heroic heights, are apparently so far beyond ordinary human powers, that the hero and the poet and even the more ordinary literary man, is quite ready to proclaim inspiration as the source of his best ideas--as if they were breathed into him from without and above.

Personal Responsibility.--For ordinary normal individuals, this question of secondary personality has scant interest. Normal persons go about their work realizing that what they want to do, they may do, and what they do not want to do they can keep from doing, unless some contrary physical force intervenes. There are many metaphysical arguments for free will, but none of them is so convincing as the observation that every sane man, with regard to his own actions, has the power to choose between two things that attract him. He may be much drawn to one thing, yet choose another. He may allow himself to be ruled by baser motives; he may sternly follow the {149} dictates of reason, or he may do neither and hold himself inactive. In any case, he realizes his power to choose. While this power may be impaired by many external conditions, his consciousness of its actuality makes him appreciate his responsibility. He realizes that punishment for wrong done is not only a part of the law, but it is also a proper vindication of that consciousness of free will which all men have, and which does not deceive them. The question has been obscured by much talk, but the reality is there, and the common-sense of mankind has proclaimed its truth. All our laws are founded on it. Without it punishment as meted out is an awful injustice and crime is a misnomer.

Hysterical Phenomena.--Most of the cases of secondary personality that have been discussed at greatest length have been in persons who were as desirous of attracting attention, and as pleased over being the subject of special study as were the hysterical patients who used to delight in investigation two generations ago. That most of the phenomena of so-called dual personalities are mainly hysterical seems now to be clear. In a few cases, where the patient has found that the existence of a double personality was of special interest, a definite tendency to the formation of further personalities has been noted. Some triple personalities have been discussed and, in a few cases, a group of personalities, even up to five or more, began to assert themselves. This reductio ad absurdum, of the hypothesis of supernumerary personality has revealed the real hysteric character of the phenomena.

The whole story of secondary personality in recent years vividly recalls commonplaces in the older medical literature that gathered around the study of hysteria, and that afford a striking confirmation of the conclusion as to the relation of the conditions ascribed to hysteria. Physicians of a generation or two ago who found their hysterical patients interesting, because of certain marvelous symptoms which they presented, were usually astonished to learn that their patients could, under suggestion, develop still further and more surprising symptoms. Each new visit, especially when other physicians were brought to see the patient, showed the existence of still further symptoms and revealed new depths of interesting disease. Indeed, the soil was found to be inexhaustible in its power to produce ever new and interesting crops of symptoms.

When the real significance of hysteria as a mental condition in which patients devoted themselves to the task of furnishing new symptoms for the physician began to be realized, one of the most potent objections against this explanation was that it would have been impossible for the patients to have studied out their symptoms enough to furnish the new material for study which physicians found so interesting. The patients were supposed to be mentally incapable of fooling the physicians. When, however, a person devotes entire attention to the one subject of making phenomena in themselves appear interesting to others, some very startling results are usually produced.

After having attracted the sensational attention so common with any novel observation and having been exaggerated out of all proportion to its due significance, the phenomenon is now settling down to its proper place--a rather obscure neurotic phenomenon of memory in hysteric individuals.

Other Neurotic Symptoms.--Janet's studies at the Salpetriere seem to show that the alterations of memory which bring about what we call {150} secondary personality (the forgetting of certain phases of existence and the maintenance for a time of a small portion of consciousness and memory quite apart from the rest) correspond with alterations in the physical basis of memory, that is, in the circulation to certain portions of the brain, and probably also in the modes of association of brain cells. They occur, particularly, in connection with certain phenomena of hystero-epilepsy so-called, or with the deeper forms of epilepsy in which there are various paresthesias, hyperesthesias and anesthesias as a consequence of a disturbance of the circulation in the central nervous system; and probably also of the connections made by neurons and the movements of neuroglia cells in making and breaking these connections. These alterations of memory are represented physically by such cases as those in which patients so lose their consciousness of sensation that they are unable to tell even where their feet are. As they themselves say, "they have lost their legs." In these cases, patients are often very deaf or have a limited auditory power, and their fields of vision are extremely narrowed. In most of these cases, recovery of the original personality takes place after hypnosis. This probably represents a relaxation of that short-circuiting, within the nervous system, which brought about the curious phenomenon studied as secondary personality.

Dual Dispositions.--The studies of secondary personality that we have had seem to show us persons under the influence of some strong suggestion, in what is practically a hypnotic condition. There are many similarities between the actions and the mentality of hypnotics and of those in secondary-personality conditions. The individuals are, for the moment, unable to recall what happened in other states. They may be very different in disposition, gentle and tractable in one state, but morose and difficult to get along with in another. Such differences are, however, only exaggerations of the variations of normal personality. There are times when, under the stress of circumstances, even the mildest of men and women become querulous and difficult. It is often noted that people are much more gentle and careful in their relations with some people than with others. Men who are known in their business relations to be quiet, easy to get along with, are at times bears in their homes. This is a matter of the exercise of inhibition for certain mental qualities, and this inhibition is neglected for some places and persons. An American humorist said not long since that a young girl passing a weekend at the house of a friend, should remember that she is expected to be unselfish, thoughtful for others, and ready to help her hostess to make it pleasant for others, so that the party may be successful. He adds that, of course, as soon as she returns home she should be perfectly natural again.

At least in a limited sense, all of us have buried in us secondary personalities that are due to a lack of control of ourselves, or occasionally to a lack of such initiative as makes possible the best that is in us. The secondary personality of some people, that side of their characters that their friends see only rarely, is the best side of them. Many people, under the demand of some great purpose, rise up to be really heroic in quality, yet in the commonplace relations of life they are quite ordinary. The secondary personality in either of these cases is not something abnormal. It is due to a tapping of deeper levels in personality than most people realize that they possess. When taken in connection with hypnotism and the power of suggestion over {151} susceptible individuals, these adumbrations of the deeper problem of secondary personality as the psychologists have discussed it, furnish the best data for its fuller explanation. Excuses for actions founded on secondary personality must either rest ultimately on insanity, or else on that lack of inhibition which constitutes the source of so many of our actions that we regret.

People who are susceptible to hypnotism may remember absolutely nothing of what occurs to them in the hypnotic condition, though they will recall it without any difficulty if during hypnosis it is suggested to them that they should remember it. This represents the most prominent feature of secondary personality; the individuals who are affected by it do not recall in one state of personality what happens to them in the other. In the two states they are very different in character. These differences have been much emphasized with regard to a few cases that are especially abnormal and have not attracted much attention in cases where the differences are slight. Indeed, in a number of the cases where secondary personality asserted itself, the differences in the character of the individual in the two states were practically nil. The only difference was a lapse of memory for certain important events. Considerations such as these help in the understanding and psychotherapy of what are sometimes puzzling cases of apparent dualism of disposition.

What we have to do with here are the suggestions of secondary personality which neurotic patients have been inclined to make to themselves as a consequence of the interest in the subject in recent years. The investigations of Head and of Gordon Holmes have undoubtedly shown, however, that there are true pathological conditions associated with certain definite and very marked manifestations of dualism of disposition consequent upon lesions in the optic thalamus. These cases so far as can be judged at the present time, at least, are quite rare and at most would account for duality and not for the plurality of personality that has come to be discussed by certain enthusiastic neurologists in recent years. The magnificent work done on this shows how much may yet be accomplished in the elucidation of nervous diseases by faithful study and investigation of selected cases.

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IX. HYPNOTISM

Hypnotism is popularly supposed to be a mysterious psychological process by which susceptible subjects are brought under the influence of a person possessing some marvelous power over others' minds and wills. According to this supposition, during the periods in which the subjects are under this influence, they either have some new source of energy transferred to them from the operator's strong personality, or else they share to some extent in the will power possessed by him. In the midst of the sub-consciousness which characterizes the hypnotic condition, then, they are in some way endowed with new strength, which enables them to overcome obstacles to physical or mental health, some of which seemed at least quite insurmountable under their normal condition.

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As a matter of fact, hypnotism is much simpler than this, consisting merely of a state of mental absorption in which all distracting thoughts are for the moment warded off, and only such thoughts as are suggested by the hypnotist reach the consciousness of the patient. The essence of hypnotism is the concentration of mind on one idea or only a few ideas dictated by the hypnotist. This mental concentration produces the effect of greater strength, whether apparent or real, to carry out the purposes connected with those thoughts. It is usually considered that hypnotism involves sleep, and in some cases it does. This is often undesirable. True, therapeutic hypnosis leaves at least certain senses of the subject open to perceive such things as are presented by the hypnotist's suggestion though these senses may be, and usually are, quite closed to all other perceptions. In a great many cases, though there is a real hypnotic condition, a state resembling true sleep does not occur. There is only a more or less complete concentration of attention on the suggestions of the operator, and a complete cessation of all spontaneous thought, or of all suggestions that might come in ordinary ways from the subject's own senses.

Effects of Hypnotism.--Most people have a very erroneous notion with regard to the effects of hypnotism. Some expect that the hypnotic sleep will work miracles. Nothing is more common in the experience of one who is known to employ hypnotism, even occasionally, than to have a patient who is addicted to some habit, alcoholic, drug, or sexual, ask, "Do you hypnotize?" If an affirmative answer is given, the patient proceeds to say that he has heard that one can be hypnotized, and then all the tendency to fall back into the old habit is immediately lost, and he has no further bother from it. This supposed miraculous effect of hypnotism in supplanting the necessity for using the human will has been cultivated very sedulously in the public mind by quacks and charlatans of various kinds and even exploiters of hypnotism who belong to the medical profession. But there is nothing in it. Hypnotism will not change character unless it be for the worse, since the habit of it sometimes leads to dependence on suggestion rather than spontaneous motives. Hypnotism cannot be substituted for weakness of will. The suggestions given in the hypnotic state are practically no stronger than those given in the waking state, if the patient would only equally concentrate his mind to receive them, and would be as ready in response. It is the readiness of response which comes in cumulative fashion, in the midst of the utter abstraction from other thoughts, that characterizes the hypnotic condition.

This is, of course, quite a different valuation of hypnotism from the very strong expressions, with regard to the power of hypnotists to influence the human will, which have at various times been made. These exaggerated claims have been no stronger than those often made for remedies of various kinds that have been long since discredited. I have heard a serious though young professor of psychology declare that he was not sure whether he was justified in using all the power that he possessed by hypnotism to influence men's wills to keep them from indulging in liquor to excess, because after all men had a right to their free will, even in a matter of this kind, and it would be wrong to take it away from them. He added very philosophically that no human being had the right to play the role of Providence in directing others' actions even for good, unless they themselves were perfectly satisfied. {153} If there was any such force in hypnotism as is thus suggested, the reformation of the world, or still more its deformation, at the hands of some of the strong-minded practicers of hypnotism, would be a comparatively easy process. As a matter of fact, however, the hypnotizer has, except as regards abnormally suggestible people, only as much influence over the person hypnotized as the subject permits, and the subject retains all his personality as an individual with all his weaknesses. After he has been helped away from his weaknesses by hypnotism, he is just as likely as ever to yield to them again, unless, during the interval of conquest, he has succeeded in bracing up his will to resist them.

FORMER METHODS OF HYPNOTIZATION

All the methods of hypnotizing, then, are directed to securing this state of concentration of the patient's mind. The hypnotic state is brought about in different ways by different operators, and even the same operator must employ quite different methods to secure hypnotic influence over different subjects. In the old times, mysterious passes and strokings and rubbings of various kinds, and instruments that flashed light, or that made special sounds, were employed. Among the pioneers, each worker invented methods of his own. A review of these will bring out the fact that none of them represents essentials, and that they are only auxiliaries to secure concentration of the patient's mind.

The methods of hypnotism practiced by those most noted in the history of the art were very different from one another, but not more different than are the methods in vogue to-day among individual hypnotizers. Indeed, the practices of the past have come down as a heritage to our own time. Stroking and touching, of which we have hints in the oldest times in Egypt and Babylonia and Greece, have always been prominent features. Valentine Greatrakes dreamt that he heard a voice in his dream telling him that his right hand should be dead and that stroking it with his left should cause it to recover its power once more. After this had happened three times in succession he began to apply this method to the ills of others. Greatrakes seems really to have come in to replace the touching by the king for the King's Evil at a time when there was no king in England, Pastor Gassner, the next worker who attracted attention by hypnotic procedures, used words of command after attracting the profound attention of his patients. Father Hell employed the touch of magnets. Mesmer used music to predispose the mind, but had many of the methods of modern hypnotists.

Mesmer.--While Mesmer undoubtedly attracted attention to certain phases of hypnotism that were to prove valuable, he was by no means the first to do so, and what he did had such a tincture of charlatanism it is no wonder that he was discredited. There was a little truth, but there was a deal of mere pretense in his work. While he undoubtedly obtained results, he did so mainly because of certain mentally impressive methods that he employed in connection with whatever of hypnotism he used. Binet and Fere, who have given us some details of his work, describe his methods in such a way as to make it clear that they smacked largely of quackery:

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Mesmer, wearing a coat of lilac silk, walked up and down amid his agitated throng, accompanied by Dezlon and his associates, whom he chose for their youth and comeliness. Mesmer carried a long iron wand with which he touched the bodies of the patients and especially the diseased parts. Often laying aside the wand, he magnetized the patients with his eyes, fixing his gaze on theirs, or applying his hand to the hypochondriac region and to the abdomen. This application was often applied for hours, and at other times the master made use of passes. He began by placing himself "en rapport" with his subject. Seated opposite to him, foot against foot, knee against knee, Mesmer laid his fingers upon the hypochondriac region and moved them to and fro, lightly touching the ribs. Magnetism, with strong electric currents, was substituted for these manipulations when more energetic results were to be produced. The master, raising his fingers in a pyramidal form, passed his hands all over the patient's body, beginning with the head, and going downward over the shoulders to the feet. He then returned to the head, both back and front, then the belly and the back, and renewed the process again and again until the magnetized person was saturated with the healing fluid and transported with pain or pleasure, both sensations being equally salutary. Young women were so much gratified by the crisis that they wished to be thrown into it anew. They followed Mesmer through the halls and confessed that it was impossible not to be warmly attached to the person of the magnetizer.

De Puysegur and His Successors.--De Puysegur has some definite instructions for hypnotizers, whom he called magnetizers. It is instructive even now to read these, for they emphasize the most important element in all hypnotism, the confidence of the operator in his own power, for this, communicated to the subject, produces the beneficial results:

You are to consider yourself as a magnet; your arms, and particularly your hands, being its poles; and when you touch a patient by laying one of your hands on his back, and the other in direct opposition upon his stomach, you are to imagine that the magnetic fluid has a tendency to circulate from one hand to the other through the body of the patient. You may vary this position by placing one hand on the head and the other on the stomach, still with the same intention, the same desire of doing good. The circulation from one hand to the other will continue, the head and stomach being the parts of the body where the greatest number of nerves converge; these are, therefore, the two centres to which your action ought to be mostly directed. Friction is quite unnecessary; it is sufficient to touch with great attention.

Some of these methods continued to be employed by the successors of Mesmer and De Puysegur, the sense of touch being the principal adjuvant, though Mesmer employed also the sense of hearing. Braid seems to have been the first to realize that the sense of sight could be used effectively, or perhaps that the tiring of the muscle sense might well serve as a point for the concentration of attention. He used the flash of a light from some bright object or tired the eye muscles by having the patient look upward at some object brought near so as to require convergence of vision. His methods were imitated by most of the hypnotizers of the nineteenth century. Liebault and Bernheim, at Nancy, employed them regularly, and they were used in the investigations at the Salpetriere. It was found, however, that after a patient had been once hypnotized, all that was needed was a word of command or a definite suggestion, and the hypnotic state recurred. Further experience showed also that the original hypnotic phenomena might, in most cases, be secured very simply by word-suggestion to the patient, though some individuals required persistent efforts in the application of several methods {155} to secure the concentration of mind on a single idea or set of ideas that is the essence of hypnotism.

By most serious hypnotists, especially those who use hypnotism for therapeutic purposes, all the rubbings and manipulations are now either completely eliminated, or are used only under special circumstances. The important element of the operator's influence consists in obtaining the complete confidence of the subject in the operator's power to control his intelligence for the time being; getting the subject to resign himself completely, with absolute assurance that his trust will be for his good, and can by no means result in harm. Without this attitude of mind on the part of the subject, anything like real hypnotism is impossible. Even with this, only a slight degree of the hypnotic condition may be secured in certain people, but the majority have a distinct susceptibility to it.

PRESENT DAY METHODS OF HYPNOTIZATION

Though various methods of producing the hypnotic sleep are in use, the rule is now that, in the course of a hypnotizer's experience, less and less external auxiliaries of any kind are needed, and more and more dependence is placed on the bringing about of mental rapport between the active and passive agencies in hypnotism by persuasion and command. If the hypnotic sleep has once been obtained, usually all that is necessary is a few gentle words, and then the command to sleep. It is at the initial attempts to hypnotize a particular person somewhat refractory to the condition that auxiliaries are needed. In these cases it is often well to tire the eyes of the patient. This is done by directing them to the fingers of the operator held well above the patient's head. After a minute or two of effort the distinct fatigue which occurs may induce forgetfulness of everything else and cause absorption in the single idea of attending only to the hypnotizer's suggestions. This constitutes the beginning of hypnotism. Occasionally the flash of a bright object, or a revolving mirror, may be used, but these are only adjuncts and may be dispensed with entirely if the operator has the patience and the time to give to the subject.

Accessories.--Some operators use a mirror on which a ray of light is cast for the purpose of concentrating the attention and bringing about tiredness of the eye muscles. In so far as it has a more universal application, sight is certainly the best sense to act upon. Other senses may be appealed to, as I suggest later. Instead of a mirror, a polished match-box or pencil-case may be used, but as a rule the less artificiality enters into it and the simpler the procedure, the better. One of the inconveniences of using the flash of a bright object is that occasionally patients who are very susceptible may, after they have had a number of hypnotic experiences, be thrown into a hypnotic condition by the flash of a light in the street, or by the reflection of light from a mirror in their own homes. These conditions of facile auto-hypnotism constitute one of the serious dangers of the practice on susceptible subjects. Whatever good may be accomplished by hypnotism will probably be reached during the first half dozen seances. To proceed with the treatment beyond this, if it is employed at regular and short intervals, is almost sure to result in harm rather than good.

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Sensations.--Besides sight, sounds have sometimes been used for the purpose of inducing hypnotism. The ticks of a watch, for instance, placed at a little distance and listened to very intently, have been known to assist in securing the hypnotic state. Sometimes the sound of a gong, or an imitation of a cathedral chime, have been used in the same way. Soft music has also been used by operators with decided advantage. It is necessary that the sounds should be of a kind that do not disturb, but only attract attention to one sensation, and then, as concentration on this is secured, the hypnotic condition results. Practically any other sensation may be used in the same way. Touch is often employed. Mesmer stroked his patients gently, and others have used the same process with advantage. Some of the French workers in hypnotism have claimed that there were special portions of the body the stroking of which was likely to produce this favorable effect. They have called these regions zones hypnogenes--areas that give rise to hypnotic conditions. Strokings of the forehead, of the cheeks, of the hands, are favorite locations for these auxiliary touches. In this, as with regard to sound, the main thing is to concentrate attention on some one sensation without producing disturbing thoughts.

Stroking.--Stroking seems to affect many people and to easily induce a sort of hypnoidal condition. It is done very naturally to a child when one wants to console or encourage or admonish slightly but kindly. In older people it is a familiar gesture among those who think much of one another, and represents a very natural tendency. Even in the midst of physical discomfort its effect is quite soothing, and it is evident that something resembling hypnotism is at work. Evidently, what really happens is a concentration of attention on the sensation thus produced, which concentration prevents distracting thoughts from making themselves felt and permits the words of the one who does the stroking to produce a deeper effect on the mind than would ordinarily be possible. This seems to be nature's method of making suggestion more effective. It has been adopted, quite spontaneously, by many of the pioneers in hypnotism as the result of their observations upon its efficacy. Lloyd Tuckey calls attention to an illustration of this practice, which makes clear its effectiveness and at the same time shows how naturally it suggests itself as a mode of using mental influence. He says:

Among the medical men who have come to watch some of my cases was a gentleman who seemed much struck at seeing the method I adopted with a rather refractory subject. I held his hand and stroked his forehead while at the same time suggesting the symptoms of sleep. The gentleman told me afterward the reason why he was so interested. It appears that he had a few months previously been in attendance on a very severe and protracted case of delirium tremens. The patient could get no sleep, and the doctor was afraid of death from exhaustion. On the third evening he resolved to make a strong effort to produce sleep, and, if necessary, to sit up all night with the patient. He told the man that he would not leave him until he slept, and sitting down by the bedside, he took his hand in one of his own, and with the other gently stroked the forehead. At the same time he talked quietly and reassuringly to him. In less than half an hour he was rewarded by seeing the restlessness entirely cease and the man drop off into a quiet sleep. That sleep, the doctor told me, lasted fourteen hours, and the patient awoke out of it weak, but cured. Manipulation about the head has in many persons a most soporific effect, and several persons have told me that they always become drowsy under their barber's hands.

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Drugs.--A number of drugs and related substances have been used as aids to hypnosis, but in nearly all of these cases it is doubtful whether it is true hypnotism that results and whether the suggestions in these states have much therapeutic value. One of the drugs most frequently administered by hypnotists is cannabis indica, which has long been used in the East for a similar purpose. After this, chloroform is most popular. Schrenck-Notzing even ventured to employ alcohol as an aid in hypnosis, and claims that he has succeeded at times in making intoxication pass into the true hypnotic condition. Bernheim and many others of the French school have used chloral and morphine. These substances are, however, liable to great abuse. Whenever they have to be employed it means that the patient is but little susceptible to hypnotic influence. These aids are employed only because hypnotists do not want to confess that a very considerable portion of humanity is not directly susceptible to the hypnotic influence.

Serious harm may be done by the employment of these drugs. A physician, who hoped that he would be able to overcome a drug addiction that had been the bane of his existence for a long while, went to a well-known hypnotist physician with the idea that perhaps the miracle of hypnotism would be worked in his case. He was one of these flighty mortals whom it is extremely difficult to have fix their minds upon any one idea for a definite time. As it was impossible to bring him into anything like a hypnotic condition by ordinary means, a large dose of chloral was administered. He already had an idea that his heart had been affected by his previous drug-taking habit, but the chloral was administered to him before he realized what it was. When he came out of the sleep it induced, he was in an agony of solicitude and anxiety lest his heart should have been further hurt by the chloral. He went back for no more doses of that kind of hypnotism.

The use of drugs seems to be a confession of failure to secure true hypnotism, so that it is doubtful whether their employment is justified. Suggestions received while in the more or less comatose state induced by drugs, instead of having a strengthening effect on the patient's will, rather tend to produce the idea of the impossibility of effectively using his own will, or even exercising his will when helped, as he supposes, by the will of the operator. The real value of hypnotism consists in the concentration of mind upon a particular idea without any distractions, which enables the subject to make firm resolutions and then to have his mind help his body as much as possible by directing his energy to the accomplishment of one end. When drugs are employed, they have a diffusive rather than a concentrating influence, so that the real purpose of hypnotism is entirely missed.

PRACTICE OF HYPNOTISM

In the ordinary practice of hypnotism now, the patient is placed sitting on a comfortable chair and the operator on one side facing prepares the mind of the subject by proper assurances. The patient must be brought into a thoroughly assured and comfortable state of mind and must be quite ready to submit to hypnotism. Then in most people, if the finger is held rather close to the patient and well above the line of sight, requiring special effort {158} on the part of the superior recti muscles as well as of the power of convergence, a tired feeling will come over the subject with a tendency of the lids to droop. When this happens the subject is asked to allow the lids to drop and to quietly concentrate the attention on the idea of sleep so as to permit the drowsy feeling gradually to increase. On a first seance this may take ten minutes, subsequently much less time will be needed, and, as a rule, in five minutes the subject is quite predisposed to sleep. In more difficult cases a much longer time may be needed, and repeated efforts may have to be made. Great patience is required. The operator soon learns to adjust himself to certain peculiarities of individuals in predisposing them to the hypnotic condition.

Hypnotism Simple, Natural, Not Mysterious.--The most important thing to know about hypnotism is the fact that any one who wishes can hypnotize. There may be need for favoring circumstances, but there is no need for any special faculty in the operator. If he has confidence in himself so as to take up the question of hypnotizing seriously, if the subjects are reasonably susceptible and if they are persuaded that they may be hypnotized, or even if they are not, so long as they take the operator seriously a hypnotic state will result. Nothing is more surprising to the operator himself, the first time he succeeds, than his success. This at once gives him renewed confidence, and future hypnosis becomes a comparatively simple matter. To have this idea widely diffused would do much good, since it would at once strip the charlatans, who abuse hypnotism, of most of the mystery that surrounds them. The general diffusion of such knowledge would also do good in another way. It would expose the supposed wonderful power that some people are presumed to possess. Hypnotism works no wonders; it is a mere natural manifestation not unlike sleep, and probably not a whit more mysterious.

Stages.--A number of divisions of the hypnotic state have been suggested, but probably the simple division into three stages is the best for ordinary teaching purposes, and helps to the understanding both of the conditions themselves and of many things that are written about hypnotism.

The first stage consists of a subdued, dreamy condition, in which the patient is not asleep and yet not thoroughly awake to all that is going on around him. He has his mind so concentrated on certain thoughts that he is preoccupied, and suggestions are much more efficient than under ordinary circumstances. This is really only a state of intense attention to the suggestions that are being made, with the banishment of all distracting thoughts. It is rather difficult for any one to keep from being distracted, and whenever this is accomplished, the ideas that then enter the mind penetrate more deeply and, above all, seem to affect the will more forcibly than when they are merely superficially considered. This first stage of hypnotism would not be considered hypnotic by most people who associate the idea of sleep with hypnotism.

In recent years it has been found that most of the good that is accomplished, especially for nervous people, by hypnotic suggestion, can be attained almost, if not quite as well, in this first stage, and without the hypnotic trance. The first stage is much less liable to the dangers of hypnotism in many ways, and it represents one of the most interesting phases of psychotherapy.

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The second stage of hypnotism is the hypnotic sleep. The patient loses consciousness of his surroundings, though his senses are still open to suggestion from the operator. Practically all that happens in the room apart from what is brought to the subject through the operator's direction remains unnoticed. If the sleep is very deep, even the suggestions of the operator do not penetrate after a time, so it may be quite difficult to awaken the subject. It may be even some hours before the person hypnotized will come out of the lethargy which has been induced in these cases. Under these circumstances, this second stage partakes somewhat of the nature of the deeper trance condition that characterizes the third stage.

The third stage of hypnotism consists of a profound trance-like condition in which there is catalepsy--that is, firm contracture of muscles all over the body--and as the extensors are stronger than the flexors, this contracture takes place in the extended position. The cataleptic condition is really a nervous spasmodic seizure rather than a true stage of hypnotism. It is probably always harmful for the patient to have it induced. Its occurrence as one manifestation of hysteria, apart from hypnotism, shows its real character. It is with this stage of hypnotism that professional hypnotists, who give exhibitions, make their demonstrations--that is, of course, when their demonstrations are really hypnotic and are not merely, as is often the case, performances by actors trained for the purpose. Catalepsy is entirely pathological; experiment with it then is eminently undesirable, and certainly should not be undertaken except under the most careful precautions and by a physician. One of its dangers was very clearly pointed out by the death of a young man, who in a cataleptic condition was subjected to certain strains upon his thorax which brought about the rupture of an aortic aneurism. Catalepsy never permits of suggestion in such a way as to be helpful to the patient. It always leads to further functional deterioration of the nervous system, and yet it has unfortunately come to mean for many people the most essential characteristic of hypnotism. Its production is supposed to represent the acme of skill in the hypnotist. Nothing could possibly be less true nor be more likely to do harm.

Susceptibility.--As to the number of people who are susceptible to hypnotism, there are great differences of opinion. Liebault declared that practically every one is susceptible in the hands of a patient operator. In a carefully made series of cases his failures were less than three per cent. Van Rentergehem and Van Eeden, in a series of over 1,000 persons, failed only with fifty-eight, or little more than five per cent. Schrenk-Notzing's statistics, collected from many countries, seem to show that only about six per cent. were uninfluenced. Bernheim, at Nancy, was not nearly so successful as Liebault, his master, and his failures amounted to twenty-five per cent. at the beginning and at least twenty per cent. later. I remember that when I was at the Saltpetriere fifteen years ago, they were inclined to discount the enthusiasm of the Nancy school with regard to the value and significance of hypnotism. They insisted that probably not more than one out of two of the persons presenting themselves at a nervous clinic could be hypnotized to the extent that is ordinarily associated with the word--could be brought beyond the drowsy stage. There are other workers in the subject who have insisted that not more than one out of three ordinary individuals can be so {160} deeply hypnotized as to exhibit the ordinary symptoms. These symptoms consist of complete neglect of surroundings and absolute absorption in the suggestions of the operator.

Some people can be hypnotized to the extent of being thrown into sleep and yet walk and talk under the absolute control of the operator. These are so-called somnambules, the class of persons who are exhibited by professional hypnotizers who want to attract popular attention, and, indeed, the class usually exhibited by physicians before medical societies, and even by professors before their classes. This extreme susceptibility is, however, quite rare. Even the most ardent advocates of hypnotism and of the susceptibility of humanity to it do not claim that more than one in ten of average individuals can be influenced to this degree. There are milder degrees of hypnotism than this, until we reach a state in which all the patients feel is a certain dreamy sense of well-being and a heaviness of the eyes, with a readiness to respond to suggestions. Most people who think of the somnambulistic stage as representing hypnotism would not consider these latter to have been at all subjected to the hypnotic state.

Repeated Efforts.--As to this question of susceptibility, much depends on how often the operator has tried to hypnotize the particular subject, for susceptibility develops with repeated trials, not only where there is a manifest impression at first, but also where there is not. It is not uncommon to find that a patient who cannot be brought at all under the influence of hypnotism in the first or second or third trial, will, at the fifth or sixth trial, yield to the suggestion to go into a hypnotic sleep. A dozen unsuccessful efforts may be followed by the development of a very satisfactory hypnosis. Those who have practiced hypnotism much tell of having tried a score or even two score of times before finally bringing on a hypnotic condition. Dr. J. Milne Bramwell, one of the English authorities on hypnotism, tells the story [Footnote 20] of having tried sixty or more times to hypnotize patients before finally succeeding. It is this persistence that enables successful hypnotic operators to accomplish results where less confident physicians fail. It is also the frequency of trial that makes all the difference in the statistics as to the susceptibility of patients to hypnotism in the hands of different individuals. There must be the confidence of the patient in the physician's power to hypnotize, but, above all, there must be the physician's own confidence in his power to bring on the hypnotic sleep so that he tries and tries again, even to seventy times.

[Footnote 20: "Hypnotism. Its History, Practice and Theory," by J. M. Bramwell, 2nd edn. London, The De la More Press, 1906.]

ANIMAL HYPNOTISM

The hypnotization of animals shows that only a very low grade intelligence is needed for the production of this state. The famous experiment of Father Kircher with the hen, which any one may repeat at any time, is a good illustration. The fascination exerted upon birds by snakes is another familiar example. The bird is paralyzed with terror at the sight of the snake, and so cannot escape from its enemy, fairly glueing its eyes on the terrifying object, and thus loses power to control its wings. Stories of snake {161} fascination are usually told as if the eye of the snake attracted the bird, who thereupon proceeded to approach the snake. These are, however, doubtful stories. The paralysis of motion seems to be the main effect. The rabbit is affected in nearly the same way. There is a tremor of horror in anticipation, and then the animal stands perfectly quiet, though ordinarily he would be quite able to escape, while its enemy approaches. The underlying mechanism is evidently a concentration of attention, which completely precludes the possibility of the exertion of any spontaneous energy except that involved in the one act of watching the awful object.

DANGERS OF HYPNOTISM

There are many and various opinions of the dangers of hypnotism. Some of those who have given it a fair trial have insisted on its dangers. Some of those who have had very large experience have declared emphatically that there is no danger at all. Occasionally it has seemed that such a declaration must be considered as having been dictated by such intensity of interest as sometimes leads men to overlook the darker side of things with which they are much occupied. Certain moral aspects of hypnotism are at least dubious, and, it must be admitted, present opportunities for abuse. There are certain dangers connected with its effect upon nervous patients, and especially with its influence upon character, that have become more and more clear in recent years. Dr. John K. Mitchell, in his "Self Help for Nervous Women," a series of familiar talks on economy in nervous expenditure, [Footnote 21] has dwelt on certain of these dangers of hypnotism for nervous patients in a passage that deserves to be recalled. As a representative of a school of thought that is worthy of special regard from American physicians his expressions must carry weight:

[Footnote 21: Philadelphia, Lippincott, 1909.]

The greatest danger of all is the use of hypnotism in any form or degree, a two-edged sword, capable indeed of usefulness, but more capable of harm. After years of study, beginning with too easy an approval of it, hypnotism, whether called by that name or by the unsuitable one of suggestion, has been laid aside by the medical profession as a means too dangerous for ordinary use, involving great risk of deterioration of character in the subject if often repeated, and putting a terribly tempting tool in the hands of the user, fascinating in the ease with which it can produce superficial and temporary good results and equally capable of being used for harmful ones.

A susceptible person, once hypnotized, is more and more easily thrown into the hypnotic state until even the slightest hint suffices to bring about the condition. It is not necessary for the hypnotization to go so far as deep sleep; this more advanced stage is indeed seldom required, and to say that persons are not hypnotized because they are not put into a sleep or a trance shows ignorance of the subject.

I am not asserting that very slight degrees of the hypnotic condition are as dangerous as the deeper, but I do say that all degrees of it are dangerous to the integrity and healthy action of the subject's nervous system. The danger of harm increases with every repetition of the hypnotization.

In suggestible, that is, over-susceptible, individuals, who are almost universally neurotic persons, to fix the eyes on a small point, especially a bright one, sometimes even to fix the mind on the one idea of going into the hypnotic state (mild or deep), is enough without further intervention from any one to put them into that state.

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In an article on the "Danger and Uses of Hypnotism" Prof. Forel, of Zurich, twenty years ago, while frankly admitting that hypnotism is by no means a panacea for all nervous affections and unfortunate habits, found it to be an extremely valuable help in the treatment of many forms of functional nervous disease. He suggests that some of its many dangers are due to the fact that hypnotism is practiced by men who are too distrustful of it, and this distrust, unconsciously communicated to the patients, produces an unfortunate effect. On the other hand, fear and distrust on the part of the subjects seriously disturbs the process of hypnotization, interferes with its effect and sometimes leads to unfortunate results.

In some cases it seems that the state of dependence on some one else, at least by suggestion, that had been created during the hypnotic experience, resulted in a diminution of will power and caused a less hopeful state on the patient's part than before. I found personally that suggestion in the waking state might in most cases be used quite as efficiently as hypnosis itself, and that when improvement came under these circumstances, the patient always felt more confidence in himself and less in the operator. Anything that restores self-confidence and gives patients the feeling that they can conquer inclinations, tendencies, even habits, if they only will, merely by firmly resolving to do so, is the best possible mental influence for them. The hypnotic relief is always easier, but nothing that is easy is likely to be of lasting value. The enduring effect of gradual cure by suggestion means much more than the hypnotic miracle that these patients are so prone to crave.

At present there is a very general feeling among those who have had considerable experience with hypnotism, that in spite of the claims of certain votaries for it, there is no justification for its frequent or habitual use. It has a definite place in diagnosis, in certain difficult cases, and at the beginning of the treatment of certain forms of the psycho-neuroses. When repeated frequently it is not therapeutic, but is likely to produce serious results in a certain lack of self-control and tendencies to auto-hypnotization with deterioration of character. There is very seldom need of a repetition of deep hypnosis, and, as a rule, all the diagnostic benefit can be secured in one or two seances. Its continued use only illustrates the tendency noted at all times, in the history of medicine, for the unthinking or unprofessional to persist in the application of supposed remedial measures after they have been shown to be useless or even harmful. The subject well deserves further study, but investigations should be carefully made by men who realize the dangers, and who are not likely to be tempted to exploit patients and curious psychological phenomena for the sake of sensational reputation. The use of hypnotism for exhibition purposes, by men who are not physicians, is an unmixed evil, producing entirely wrong impressions on the public, and doing untold evil to the subjects employed.

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SECTION III

THE INDIVIDUAL PATIENT

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I. PSYCHOTHERAPY AND THE INDIVIDUAL PATIENT

The most important element in Psychotherapy is the individual patient. Old Dr. Parry of Bath said a century ago, "It is much more important to know what sort of a patient has a disease, than what sort of a disease a patient has." Mental influence is not of the slightest avail against pneumonia or typhoid fever, nor constipation nor rheumatism as such; mental influence may be, and often is, of the greatest possible help to the patient suffering from any of these diseases.

We recognize frankly now that for most diseases we can do nothing to counteract the disease directly or to cure it specifically. The idea of specifics in medicine has to a large extent disappeared. Two or three of them possibly we have, but even with regard to these, there are certain doubts as to the essential modes of their activity. We have learned, however, to help the patient to overcome disease. We know how to conserve his forces, to increase his vital reaction, to maintain his nutrition without disturbing his general condition, and to secure elimination in such a way as to prevent nature from being interfered with in her curative purposes. To this, psychotherapy would enable us to add such encouragement of the patient as would tap new sources of energy in him according to the law of reserve energy, and would prevent discouragement and the inhibition of favorable nerve impulses that so often follow. The outcome of any disease depends on two factors. One is the condition of the patient at the time the infection was acquired, the other is the virulence of the infection. We can do nothing to modify this latter element, once the disease manifests itself. We can, however, do much to enable the patient to throw off the disease and, above all, by securing a favorable attitude of mind, we can enable him to use his forces to the best advantage.

Anyone who has noted the difference between the patient's state just before and just after his physician has called, though absolutely no physical remedy has been employed, is able to realize very well how much psychotherapy is able to accomplish. One who did not know, would be sure to assume that some potent remedy had been administered--and there has been. This potent remedy is psychotherapy. Whether the personal magnetism necessary to produce therapeutic effects of this kind can be learned or not depends on the individuality of the physician. Undoubtedly, however, everyone can add to whatever of personal influence he has by definitely recognizing its place, by {164} making every effort to employ it, and then by regular systematic effort in securing as much personal information as possible with regard to the patient. This personal relationship of physician and patient makes instruction easier and suggestion more effective.

The securing of personal information is of the utmost importance in determining the affections that psychotherapy will relieve, because very often details of life and habits are discovered that can be so modified by instruction as to bring about a disappearance of unfavorable physical influences. It is indeed surprising to find how many unreasonable things people do from habit, from unfortunate persuasion, or from lack of knowledge. In many of the minor chronic ailments that are the source of so much mental discomfort to patients, the physician finds that a change in the patients' habits, not necessarily of marked degree, may make all the difference between cheerful health and rather despondent low-spirited feeling. Now that epidemic disease has become rarer, a physician's practice, especially among the better classes, is much more taken up with these minor ailments than with the typical classical diseases.

The ordinary history of their ailments, as patients commonly present them, especially when there are neurotic elements, is likely to be meager in what is objective, but consists mostly of the subjective. Such patients have much to say of their sensations, their feelings, their dreads, their surmises, their conclusions as to their particular condition, and especially the hereditary elements in it, but comparatively little of the objective realities of their ills and of their environment. What the physician needs to know about them is their habits of life, their daily routine of existence, just as minutely as it is possible to obtain the information. There is just one way to get the latter details, and that is to inquire particularly with regard to actual happenings. In chronic conditions of many kinds, it is so helpful that it will always be worth the physician's while to get at these details, especially in supposedly puzzling cases for which various forms of treatment have been already tried.

In spite of every precaution in this matter, the physician sometimes finds, after a series of consultations, that some point which when brought to light he considers to be of great importance, has been thought so trivial by the patient that it was never mentioned, in spite of the most careful questioning. In all medical practice the rule is that mistakes of diagnosis are much more due to neglect in eliciting necessary information than either to lack of expertness in diagnosis, or lack of knowledge of the significance of symptoms.

In the affections that can be relieved by psychotherapeutics, the most important element for diagnosis, besides a minute knowledge of the patient's habits, is just as detailed information as possible with regard to his ways and modes of thought as to his ills. Practically every motive, as well as every action of the day, must be scrutinized, and often it will be found that little things mean much for the individual. "Trifles make perfection, but perfection is no trifle," as said by Michelangelo, might well be changed for the physician to, "Trifles make all the difference between health and discomfort, though health is no trifle."

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II. THE MORNING HOURS

In getting the history of patients for diagnostic purposes the safest way is to begin with the getting up in the morning and then to follow out the various actions of the day. The hour and mode of rising should be inquired into. Practically all nervous people, and nearly all those beyond middle life, feel less fit in the morning hours than at any other time in the day. Apparently as a consequence of their will having been allowed to lose its hold during sleep, it does not secure thorough command over the organism for some time. Nervous people, as a rule, wake up with a tired feeling, a dread of the day, wondering whether life is worth living. They dread--for it is a real dread--to get up and tackle the daily round of life once more.

If they have nothing very definite to do, then slight tired feelings or discomfort, even of very minor degree, may lead them to think that they cannot get up. Any yielding in this matter is almost sure to do harm. When there are no objective signs, that is, when there is no fever recognizable by the thermometer and there has been no diarrhea or any physical weakness, nervous patients should get up promptly at a particular hour every morning, because, as a rule, within a half hour after getting up they feel better, and by the time they are washed and have had their breakfast, life has grown not only quite possible but even plausible, and the day's work does not seem such a nightmare as it was at first. It is not advisable to tell people all this as soon as they confess their habit of dawdling in the morning, for they must be gradually brought to discipline themselves. The detail emphasizes the necessity of knowing how they get up as well as when.

Mode of Awaking.--It is often valuable to know how patients awake. Sometimes it will be found that they are anxious and solicitous to be at work at a particular hour, or to catch a train at a particular time, and that as a consequence their sleep is disturbed in the early morning hours. At best it may be fitful and when they awake they fear to go to sleep again lest they oversleep. An alarm clock will sometimes remedy this state of affairs. Better still is an arrangement by which someone, who can be depended on, will wake them at a particular time. Occasionally patients cannot content themselves in spite of the assurance that they will be waked. They dread that the alarm clock may not go off, or that the awakener may make a mistake, and so they go to bed with a dominant idea, which is more or less constantly present in their mind during all their sleeping hours, disturbing sleep and preventing complete rest. It may be necessary to insist on a change of occupation for such persons, or a change of residence that will do away with the necessity for early rising. When this is done, many a neurotic condition that has before proved intractable will disappear.

Amount of Sleep.--It is of cardinal importance to know how long patients sleep. In our large cities most people have too little sleep. A comparison of the hours when they get to bed with those when they get up will often show that at least three or four nights in the week some patients who are complaining of nervous symptoms, especially nervous indigestion, are {166} sleeping less than seven hours. There are but few men, and still fewer women, who will retain their health under such conditions. Some men have been able to do it, but they are comparatively rare. King Alfred's rule of dividing the day into three eight-hour periods--one for sleep, one for work, and the third for bodily necessities and recreation, still remains the best for human nature. Whenever people try to live the strenuous life and get along on less than eight hours of sleep, they are almost sure, sooner or later, to render themselves uncomfortable, to make themselves liable to all sorts of neurotic symptoms and, above all, to detract from their efficiency for whatever work they are engaged in. Whether they sleep or not, they should be in bed for nearly eight hours.

Bathing.--Morning Bath.--In our larger cities at least, many of the inhabitants begin the day with a bath. In this matter one finds all sorts of harmful fads that need to be corrected. Many men take a cold bath, and unless they are particularly strong and vigorous, this is rather an exhausting experience for the beginning of the day, when the last nutrition the body absorbed is twelve hours before. On the other hand, large, athletic men who manufacture a great deal of heat, their muscles--the heat-making organs--being well developed, will be benefited by having a cold bath because of the abstraction of heat that it involves. It is not, however, infrequent to find that the man for whom it will be good is not taking it, while the thin, neurotic individual, already exhausting more of his vitality by worry and dieting and in various fads with regard to his health than is good for him, is regularly taking his cold plunge or douche. Unless especially asked about it, few men give particulars in this matter, yet they are extremely important.

Women, on the other hand, are likely to take hot baths more frequently than is good for them. Especially when they have maids to assist in dressing and undressing, it is not unusual to find that women take two, and sometimes even three, hot baths in a day. They take them in the early morning when they first get up, and in the evening before dressing for dinner. I have known cases where some took a third hot bath before going to bed and sometimes even put in a fourth before luncheon in case they had had any exercise in the morning hours--tennis, or horseback riding, or the like--that made them perspire. These are details which the physician will learn only if he asks particularly about them. Until he has actually had the experience of finding that they play an important role in some ailment he is almost sure not to think of it. It is probable that even two hot baths a day are too many. I have known women to begin at once to get better of neurotic symptoms that before had proved quite intractable, when their hot baths were limited or when they were changed for a single warm bath with a cold rub after it in the morning, or sometimes just before dinner.

Bathing is more liable to abuse than is usually thought to be possible. While the habits of modern life call for it often, and many people are quite sure that they would not be healthy without it, the people who live longest, and who have had the best health far beyond three score years and ten, have usually not been noted for bathing proclivities. The human body is composed of nearly seven-eighths water, and so our cells are constantly bathed in it, but the making of the whole organism a marine animal once more, as seems to be the definite tendency of some people, is not nearly so hygienic as {167} it is often thought to be. Enough bathing for thorough cleanliness, but not for luxury, must be the rule for people who have active work and want to retain their health.

Bathing Fads.--While such mistakes are usually made only by the wealthy and leisure classes, the physician will sometimes be surprised to find that women who have no maids for personal service are indulging themselves in these over-frequent bathing practices. They have heard that it softens the skin and renews youth, or they have heard that the Japanese take hot baths and are revivified when they are very fatigued, and so they go to great lengths in bathing. Often this is the main reason for the relaxation of muscle tissue and the sense of prostration that has come over them. Neurotic people are constantly going to extremes. Even delicate women will sometimes be found to take very cold baths which are surely doing them harm. Over frequent washings of hands and face are sometimes responsible for skin lesions, especially if the soap used is one of the varieties so scented that the manufacturer is enabled to conceal the impurities in its ingredients. Some women easily run into what is really a misophobia, an exaggerated morbid fear of dirt, and need to be restrained from washing themselves over frequently. Many a chapped hand would be saved by avoiding unnecessary washings, and especially in warm water just before one goes out, for it leaves the skin without its proper oily protection.

Clothing.--Then comes the question of clothing. It is curious how irrationally many people clothe themselves. People complain of cold hands and feet when they are wearing thin cotton undergarments, and who need only to have these changed for wool for their feelings to be at once improved. In the meantime they have been persuaded that they have a defective circulation. The usual excuse for not wearing wool is that it produces hyperemia of the skin with itchy discomfort, but this, as a rule, is only passing and is due to unaccustomedness. The coarser wools should not be worn by the sensitive. A thin cotton garment may, if absolutely necessary, be worn next the skin. There is too little variety in the underclothing that people wear. Some change from light to heavy weight and only that, but there should be a medium weight worn, and occasionally, when there is a spell of mild weather in the winter time, even during the season when heavy weight is usually worn, medium weight should be substituted for comfort's sake.

It is even more common to find that neurotic individuals, who fear to catch cold, wear too much clothing, especially around the chest. Very often they alternate from this during the day to next to nothing in the evening, and by so doing subject themselves to special risks of internal congestions. When the skin is covered with too much clothing it loses the habit of reacting, and the warmth and the irritation of wool keep up an artificial hyperemia which gradually lowers the tone of the peripheral vessels. Many people wear "chest protectors," as is evident from the prominent display of these abominations in the drug-store windows. By leaving certain portions of the chest unprotected while other parts are kept over-warm, these add greatly to the risk of such disturbances of circulatory equilibrium as predispose to the infections grouped under the term "taking cold." It is not heavy clothing that keeps people warm so much as the layers of non-conducting air between the skin and the outer air. It is better, therefore, to wear three thin {168} garments than two heavy ones because of the additional layers of air that are thus confined. A paper vest, if one is driving in the wind, will probably protect better than the heaviest woolen garment worn. The wearing of chamois garments is not, as a rule, advisable because chamois does not permit free access of air and it hampers transpiration.

Before Breakfast.--After dressing comes breakfast, with regard to which it may be advisable to ask many questions. It is well to begin with a query as to whether liquids are taken before breakfast. Many people have taken to the fad of drinking a large quantity of warm water, sometimes as much as a pint, before breakfast. Surely this never does any good and, in most cases, just as surely does harm. Plain water will not dissolve mucus that may have collected in the stomach, and warm water merely dilates that organ, relaxes its fibers, and renders the whole gastric digestive system atonic. If cold water can be borne, it will often be found that a glass of cold water the first thing in the morning stimulates peristalsis, and serves to lessen the necessity for laxatives. Many people complain that cold water is too much of a shock. Usually, if they are reminded that when we want to warm our hands we rub them vigorously with cold water and that the reaction after this gives a healthy glow, the effect of the supposed shock, which was merely an unfavorable suggestion, will disappear. Sometimes delicate people cannot drink cold water. If there is any reason to suspect an accumulation of mucus in the stomach, a small bouillon cup of very hot water, just as hot as it can be borne, in which a pinch of salt and a pinch of bi-carbonate of soda have been dissolved will prove an excellent aperitive for the day. This is physiological and appropriately chemical, as well as naturally stimulating. Mucus does not dissolve in ordinary water but dissolves readily in an alkaline salt solution, and this is just what is thus recommended. This drink is quite grateful to the palate. Indeed, it tastes very much like clear soup, and, if the eyes are closed, cannot, as a rule, be distinguished from some of the bouillon commonly served. I have known this cup of hot water to stimulate an appetite when drug tonics had failed.

It is better to take the glass of cold water from fifteen to twenty minutes before the morning meal--say immediately on rising. If, instead, the small cup of hot water is chosen, it should come immediately before eating, and will usually prove an appetizer.

Breakfast.--The exact details of the amount of breakfast taken and how it is eaten should be known. Nervous people eat little breakfast. When ordered to eat, they find it difficult at first, but the habit is easily formed, and then they want their breakfast like anyone else. It is surprising how often physicians will find that nervous persons, who are under weight, are not taking enough breakfast. They will ordinarily say that they are eating breakfast about as other people do and will, perhaps, mention eggs and rolls, but it will be found that their ordinary breakfast consists of a roll and piece of toast and coffee, and only occasionally do they have any of the other things mentioned.

Breakfast is ordinarily the meal which those who work are likely to eat too hurriedly. Those who are neurotically inclined are especially victims of the habit. They lie abed until there is only a few minutes left to get the train so as to reach their place of occupation in time, and thus their breakfast is {169} skimped. Their oatmeal or other soft cereal is fairly shovelled in, coffee is gulped, toast is unchewed, the coffee softening it; if they have creamed potatoes they are swallowed in such large pieces that, as every physician knows, if for some reason they vomit they are surprised, beyond all measure, at the large portions they have been able to pass down into their stomachs. A breakfast thus eaten makes a bad beginning for a nervous man's day, and the more that is so eaten the worse for the victim. With a habit like this, it will be utterly impossible by means of drugs or directions as to diet to relieve the discomfort of neurotic indigestion, or to keep the patient from suffering that stomach discomfort so often complained of in the morning.

Working Women.--Working women are even more prone than are men to take a hurried breakfast, and having, as a rule, less appetite than men, their meal is likely to be deficient. It is not unusual to find that a young woman who is under weight and who needs three meals a day, is taking so little for the first meal that even she hesitates to regard it as a meal. Very often her last previous meal has been taken before seven o'clock the night before, so that she goes out ill prepared for her day's work. Much more than men, women are annoyed in the morning by our transportation systems, and by worry as to whether they will get to the office on time. Suggestions as to the modification of this unfortunate routine, the taking of an earlier train, the using of a quiet local instead of a crowded express, a short walk at least before taking the train, will often help in producing a marked change in the general health.

Home Keeping Women.--For those who really have homes, the morning duties are usually sufficient to rouse their activities and make them begin the day well. For those who live in apartment-hotels, however, and for those who have the luxury of many servants, the morning hours are often a serious problem. Madame does not get up, or if she does, it is only to lie around in dressing gown for most of the morning. Breakfast is easily neglected or may be eaten hurriedly because the head of the house is rushing to business. The lack of an incentive requiring them to rise, and get outside for a time every morning, is probably at the root of more feminine symptoms among leisure class patients than anything else. As we grow older all of us are likely to note the lowered physiological cycle of the morning hours, so that unless there is some sharp reason to compel action, we are rather prone to persuade ourselves that it is better to lie abed, or at least to loll around. This leads to a concentration of attention on self and on one's feelings that easily gives rise to neurotic conditions.

Interest in life.--In my special clientele I have often found that going to church in the early morning hours was an excellent remedy for many of these patients. It gives them a definite reason for rising promptly, the service provides motives to rouse them to activity, they are likely to think during it of how they shall make their life a little bit more livable for others as the result of their trying to be better, and so the apathy that is so fruitful of ill feeling is shaken off. This can only serve for those who have faith in the service. For others, the old-fashioned going out to market, or the making of appointments at morning hours that will tempt them to regular activity early in the day, is of special significance. It is always ominous for health when a woman can look forward to a whole long day without any particular duties {170} in it until the late afternoon or evening hours. This has become so frequently the case for the women of our large cities, particularly those who live in apartment hotels, it is no wonder that neuroses and psychoneuroses of various kinds have grown in frequency. The best prophylaxis for them is occupation of mind. The cure for them is the securing of many interests and such diversion of mind as will prevent concentration of attention on self.

Mail Before Breakfast.--Many people receive their most important mail in the early morning, and personal mail, in cities especially, is likely to be placed beside the breakfast plate. Not infrequently, letters contain serious matters that are likely to disturb people, and occasionally even important business finds its way to the side of the plate at breakfast time. Authors often find their rejected manuscripts sent back in the morning's mail. Occasionally bad news of other kinds comes in this way, and, as a rule, it is the very worst time for its reception. The human system--it cannot be too often repeated--is at its lowest physiological term in the morning, the temperature is lower than during the rest of the day, all the nervous vitality is below the normal. Half an hour after breakfast the reception of bad news, or the coming of important matters requiring decision, would not make so much difference. Hence, the necessity for knowing whether the mail is ordinarily read in the early morning, in order to know something about people, and about the consumption and digestion of their breakfast.

Company at Breakfast.--Pleasant company during meals is an important factor that makes for good digestion. At the other meals there is much more likelihood of having such pleasant company, while the morning meal is often a solitary, and quite as often as not, a rather glum quarter of an hour, preoccupied with the business cares of the day. As may be readily understood from our discussion of this problem of mental preoccupation during digestion, this may seriously hamper digestive processes. Often men take refuge in their paper. The thoughts aroused by reading the modern newspaper are not the pleasantest in the world and consist, very often, of the following out of details of hideous crimes and scandals. When, as is sometimes the case, these scandals concern relatives, friends or acquaintances in whom we are interested, and with regard to whom we feel poignantly because of the publicity involved, nearly the same effect is produced as when bad news is received in letters, or when business worries are thus brought to the breakfast table.

The best conditions for the eating of breakfast are those in which it becomes like the other meals, a family matter. When father, mother and children eat their breakfast together, nearly always family interests and especially the enlivening effect of the joyousness with which children face a new day is the best possible tonic for a business man in whom a solitary breakfast starts a day of digestive disturbance. Sociability and sufficient time must be insisted on, whether at home or in a boarding house, at breakfast as well as the other meals, and it will often be surprising to find how much difference this makes both as regards the quantity eaten and the digestion of the food.

Morbid Habits.--In matters of diet, it is important to ask for details, for it is surprising what unexpected things may be discovered after weeks of treatment. That was illustrated for me once by a case of persistent acne in a young girl, which all the ordinary remedies failed to cure. I felt sure that {171} I had given her such explicit directions with regard to diet that I knew exactly what she was taking and that nothing could be hoped for from any change. As a last resort, I asked once more with regard to all that she ate and only then discovered that before breakfast every day she ate a baked banana. It had been recommended to her by a friend as a sure cure for constipation, she had formed the habit of taking it as a medicine, and so had not spoken of it. Baked bananas agree with many people well, but just as soon as this was eliminated from her diet her acne began to improve and before long had disappeared almost entirely. The taking of large amounts of warm water, already spoken of, is another of these morbid habits. Then many people take a glass of salt water, or laxative water, and some have curious habits with regard to the eating to excess of salt on cereal or on fruit, or sometimes they eat too great a variety of fruit. All this should be known, but often will not be ascertained unless particularly inquired about.

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III. THE DAY'S WORK

Probably even more important than details with regard to the early hours of the day, is detailed information as to the day's work, the kind and character of the occupation and the length of time spent at it, the interruptions that may occur, the habits with regard to luncheon, and, above all, the state of mind in which the occupation is pursued. The physician will only learn these details when he sets before himself a definite schedule of what he wants to know, and then proceeds to secure information with regard to it. With this sufficient can be learned in a short time to ascertain the source of the affection or the symptoms complained of. In some cases it is, however, only when the whole day's occupation is reviewed that proper suggestions can be made.

Getting to Work.--Many a man, especially if he has been accustomed to much exercise in younger years, craves muscular exercise, feels much better whenever he has the opportunity to take it, yet rides down to business every morning and back every evening. On his vacation in the summer time, he gets up early for the sake of a morning walk, but he scarcely has time to take his breakfast and ride to business at other times, though the main reason for his better feeling during his vacation is his exercise. There is usually the story of crowded cars in the busy hours, often with annoying thoughts pestering him that he may not be in time and with a constant call on nervous energy while he stands up in the train, jolted, pushed, crowded, or unable to read his paper with satisfaction, even if he has a seat. The discomfort experienced during a ride in crowded cars to business is about as bad a way to begin a day for a nervous person as could be imagined.

As a rule, it will take more than half an hour to get to business in this way. If an extra twenty minutes were taken, it would be possible to walk the distance. On at least two out of every three days in the year this would give a magnificent opportunity for exercise of the best kind, for fresh air, {172} for diversion of mind, for the route could be frequently changed, and, during the spring and fall, if there are parks on the way, these would provide occasion for pleasant thoughts to replace the annoyances which too intimate contact with over-strenuous humanity in overcrowded cars is likely to occasion.

This seems almost too trivial for a doctor to talk about, but it is on the care of trivialities that good health often depends. It is easy to assume that this amounts to little for health but tempt a dissatisfied patient, whose digestion and sleep are disturbed, to do it, especially in the spring and in the fall, and see what a difference it makes in all his physical functions. If he is not used to walking, he will have to begin by walking only a mile or two, but after a time he will do his four-mile walk in about an hour, with no waste of business time, and with a renewal of energy that will seem little short of marvelous.

Details of the Day's Work.--If patients are to be benefited through mental influence it is extremely important that details as to occupation be completely secured. This must include, especially in cases where there are objective but obscure symptoms, minute information that may seem trivial, and yet which often proves to be of great importance. In recent years there has been profound study of the dangers of trades and occupations. Anyone who wants to treat nervous patients, must know much about these occupations, for otherwise symptoms may be ascribed to old infections, to obscure rheumatic conditions, to intestinal auto-intoxication, or to nervous weakness or exhaustion, when they are really the result of occupation-conditions. The various poisons must be carefully looked for, or affections will be wrongly treated. I have had a series of cases of lead poisoning [Footnote 22] under most unexpected conditions which have taught me much as to the possibilities of obscure plumbism. Lead poisoning from new lead pipes--with no one else in the household suffering from it, lead poisoning from frequent drinking of carbonated waters, the bottles of which had the old-fashioned lead stoppers, lead poisoning from the painting of a flat by a settlement worker who could not get a painter to do it, show how carefully such things must be looked for.

[Footnote 22: "Curiosities of Lead Poisoning," International Clinics, Eighth Series, Vol. II.]

Dust and Respiratory Affections.--Mechanical conditions connected with trades are especially important. Workers in dusty trades are almost sure to suffer severely from bronchitis at times, and to have the affection oftener than others, to have it "hang on longer," as they say, and eventually to have tuberculosis develop. There are some of the polishing trades in the metal industries in which it is impossible to maintain the ordinary death benefit fund that workmen have in other trades, because the men die so frequently and at such an early age from consumption that the drain on the treasury makes it impossible to maintain the fund. Practically all of the dusty occupations have this same tendency. This is true often in occupations where dust is sometimes not supposed to be much of a factor. Railroad trainmen suffer more frequently from colds than do those in other trades because of the dust to which they are exposed, and a trainman with incipient consumption will be greatly benefited by getting out of the dust during the summer months. Sweepers in large buildings, janitors and janitresses have colds that are often untractable because of the dust in their occupations. It is to be hoped that {173} the new vacuum cleaning system now becoming so popular will obviate these dangers, though like all improvements, it will probably bring its own dangers with it.

Lack of Light.--People who work at occupations that keep them from the light are likely to suffer from lung symptoms and to have quite intractable colds which will not clear up until they get more sunlight. Workers in theaters and like places who do their sweeping where sunlight does not penetrate, are in more danger than others from respiratory disease. Those who work in gloomy lower stories, especially in narrow but busy and dusty streets, suffer the same way. Attendants at moving picture shows who work much in the dark where the frequently changing crowd brings in dust which cannot be well removed, and in quarters where the sun does not penetrate, are almost sure to have persistent repeated respiratory troubles.

Habitual Movements.--After the question of dust comes the mode of the occupation. Many occupations demand certain habitual and repeated movements. When people come complaining of pains in muscles in and around joints, or of achy conditions in the limbs, it is important to know every detail of their occupation movements, if the physician is to appreciate just what pathological causes are at work. It is not enough, for instance, to know that a man is a clerk, or a bookkeeper, but it should be asked whether he stands much at his occupation, or walks considerably, or whether he sits practically all the day. If he stands much, we can expect that he will have various painful conditions in his feet and legs, unless he takes care to change his position frequently, to wear the most comfortable shoes obtainable and, above all, to provide against any yielding of the arch of the foot. Often it will be found that people who complain of discomfort in the feet stand much on a cold, and sometimes damp and draughty floor, and this needs to be corrected or their symptoms, often carelessly called rheumatic, will not disappear. If he sits down always during his occupation, he will need exercise and air or he will suffer from many vague discomforts, over sensitiveness and irritability of nerves, as well as from physical conditions.

Most patients prefer to think that they are suffering from some constitutional condition, rather than from a merely local manifestation due to their occupations. Those who have to stand much can often make such arrangements as will permit their sitting down from time to time. They may, if they are standing at a desk, have a high stool; they may during their hour of lunch sit down restfully, or even to recline for a time, so as to restore the circulation in the legs. For many people who suffer from the achy discomfort connected with varicose veins in the leg, a rest of half an hour in the middle of the day with the feet a little higher than the head, will do more than anything else to make them comfortable. This same thing is true for people with flat-foot, and there are many occupations with regard to which advice of this kind will be appreciated. The well known tendency of many men to sit with their feet higher than their head is not a mere caprice, but is due to the fact that this is an extremely restful posture and thoroughly hygienic for those who have been standing much.

Unfortunately, it is not so easy to secure such relief for working women, but occasionally the advice to lie down during the middle of the day on the couches of the retiring rooms may be the best medical prescription that can {174} be given. This will carry young women over trying periods of the month when everything seems to be going wrong. In women particularly, if there are complaints of the pains in the lower limbs, footwear must be investigated. When the heels are too high those who have to stand much are thrown forward and there is a strain of the muscles of the thighs and on the muscles of the back. Many young women suffer from backache supposed to be due to internal conditions usually of gynecological character, when it is only due to high heels or a combination of high heels and constipation. On the other hand, heels that are too low are not comfortable and women's shoes, in spite of the outcry against them, have been better adapted than men's to prevent them from developing flat foot. Fewer women than men suffer from this affection. Shoes that are too loose are almost as bad, sometimes it would seem worse, than those that are too tight.

Habitual Motions and So-Called Rheumatism.--The habitual movements of various trades are extremely important for the diagnosis of conditions that develop in the muscular system. Much of the so-called rheumatism of the working people is really due to the muscular over-activity demanded by their trades. This affects all kinds of working people. Men who have to work foot-lathes, or women who have to work sewing machines, or men or women who have to use their arms much in repeated vigorous movements, are likely to suffer from achy discomfort. The strong and healthy ones do not suffer, but the delicate do. The suffering is much more prevalent in rainy, damp weather; it is worse during the spring and fall than at other times. It is particularly noticeable whenever the patient is run down physically, is worrying about many things, or, above all, is getting insufficient nutrition. The discomfort is particularly likely to recur in those who do not know how to use their muscles properly, who are naturally awkward, and who perhaps have from nature an insufficient control over opposing and coodinating muscles, so that they do not accomplish movements quite as readily as would be the case if they were normal. The personal element enters largely into these affections. Many patients, however, can be trained to do their habitual movements under the best possible mechanical conditions, whereas very often they are found accomplishing them under the worst possible mechanical conditions.

Men who have to do much writing may have to be taught the application of Gowers' rule, that the forearm should so move as a whole during writing that if a pen were fastened to the elbow it would execute exactly all the movements of a pen held in the hand. The writing must all be done from the shoulder. People who do typewriting may have to be instructed not to allow the machine to be too much above them, nor on the other hand, too much below them when they sit down. Young people particularly who, from long hours of practice on the piano, suffer from neurotic conditions, may have to be instructed to do this under good mechanical conditions.

Men who do much filing of metal will often suffer from painful conditions in the arms. These will be much worse in case the filing is done at a table or workbench so high that pressure has to be brought to bear upon the file by the arms instead of through the weight of the body. This same thing is true for women who iron much. If the ironing board is so high that the additional pressure applied is made by the arms, then painful conditions will {175} almost inevitably develop if the work is long continued. These details are discussed in the chapters on joint and muscular affections.

Night Work.--In a large city there are many workmen who are on night duty. They will be disturbed in many ways in health, unless they make special arrangements to live under conditions that enable them to have full eight hours of sleep every day and, above all, to have their meals regularly. When they come home in the morning they usually have a rather hearty meal. Most of them can sleep very well with this, but very few of them sleep the full eight hours, and all need this amount. Usually they have another full meal about five in the evening. Very often it will be found that the third meal of the day consists of a sandwich, with a glass of milk or a glass of beer, and some cake or some crackers and cheese, or the inevitable pie. Every workman should have three full meals, and a man who is suffering from almost any symptoms will be improved at once if the third good meal is insisted upon. At one time I had occasion to see a number of men whose work began not later than seven in the evening and did not finish until six or seven in the morning. They were sufferers from all sorts of complaints. Most of them were under weight. Not a few were constipated. Some were suffering from severe headaches that came rather frequently, and a few from a headache that was severe but came only every two or four weeks. These patients alternated night and day work, and it was the week after they had been on day work, and first went on to night work, that they suffered from headache.

In every one of these cases instructions with regard to eating and sleeping proved to be the best remedy. Nearly all of them were not eating enough, and were skimping the third meal. Three of them were taking only between four and five hours of sleep. They stayed up after breakfast to read the paper, went to bed about nine and got up about two o'clock. Just as soon as two or three hours was added to their sleep, they began to feel better, and various symptoms, digestive, rheumatic and nervous, of which they complained, began to disappear.

Nearly always night workers are more prone than the ordinary run of workmen to some indulgence in spirituous liquors. Cold and shivery on the way home from work in the early morning, they take a nip of whiskey to brace them up. Alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver is a little more common among sea captains, policemen, printers and night workmen on the railroads than among the average of the population. The reason for it seems to be that undilute whiskey is thrown into the circulation by being taken into the stomach at a time when that viscus is empty and all the cells are craving food and drink. It is carried directly to the liver, and there either produces or predisposes to the bad effects upon liver cells which we know as cirrhosis.

It is usually useless to treat such men for the indigestion and other symptoms that are likely to develop as a consequence of their habits, without getting at their story completely. It is easy, as a rule, to relieve them of certain of their symptoms by ordinary drug therapeutics. Unless their habits are changed, this relief, however, is only temporary. It must not be forgotten that in recent years women have come to do a good deal of work at night that was not usual to them before. In the telephone service of certain cities, as cashiers in restaurants, as ticket sellers in various places of entertainment, {176} as office help at busy seasons of the year, women may be kept occupied either all night or at least until quite late. Not infrequently during times when rehearsals are on, chorus girls are kept until the wee small hours. They are particularly likely to suffer from such variations in normal habits, and no treatment is so effective with them as pointing out how they must live, if they want to preserve their appearance and continue in such exacting occupations. A healthy young woman can burn the candle of life at both ends with less protest from nature at the beginning than man, but she suffers more for it and the suffering begins sooner.

Positions During Occupations.--The question of position during occupation, especially as regards its influence upon digestive processes, has always seemed to me much more important than most people think. Our idea of digestion has been so largely one of digestive secretions, to the neglect of the motor side of the gastric and intestinal functions, that we have missed some important points. If a person leans over a desk shortly after a meal, there is no doubt that the crowding of the abdominal viscera hinders peristalsis, at least to some degree, not of course in the robust and healthy, but in those who already have some irregularity or sluggishness in this region. The old high desks at which many clerks used to stand, at which even proprietors did not hesitate to take their position, had a reason in common sense that has been forgotten in the modern times, and the variation of position thus permitted seems to have been good for the workers.

A good deal of comfort may be obtained by having a suitable desk and chair for business hours. Not infrequently it happens that a desk is too high for comfortable writing. Any discomfort that is continuous and makes itself felt intrusively during occupation with other things, will have an unfortunate effect. Such things seem trivial by contrast with serious disease and may seem safely negligible. Trivial they are, but little things count both in themselves and as to the attitude of mind which they occasion. It is the attitude of mind that we try to modify by psychotherapy, and even the removal of little sources of annoyance help a patient materially to get through life more happily and through work more efficiently and without any more discomfort than is absolutely unavoidable.

Positions After Meals.--While we have talked thus of business people, what is said refers, also, to the positions assumed out of business hours, as, for instance, at home after dinner. A Morris chair that permits of a somewhat reclining position, or a rocking chair that temps one to sit back, pretty well distending the abdomen and giving all due play to the internal viscera, will be found not only much more comfortable than a straight-back chair which tempts a man to lean forward, but also there will be less interference with gastric motility, the most important digestive function of the stomach. Arm-chairs which really support the arms, and therefore tend to keep the shoulders up, have something of the same effect. We naturally assume these positions, though occasionally social usage forbids them. The tendency, for instance, for elbows to be put on the table, especially toward the end of a meal, represents a natural instinct to lift up the shoulders and keep the weight of the upper part of the trunk off the abdominal organs. Children's instincts often curiously guide their postures--as is illustrated by the story of the little boy who, when asked by his grandmother if he could manage {177} another tart, said that he thought he could if he stood up. (See chapter on Position.)

Mental Conditions of Occupations.--While the details of manual occupations have to be learned with great care if we are to modify the conditions so as to prevent certain unfortunate effects, just as much care has to be exercised, with those not employed manually, in finding out details as to mental worries, and the various disturbances consequent upon business conditions. Many a man has not brain enough to run his business and his liver. This is the old English expression, and the liver, as the largest of the abdominal organs, is taken for the physical life generally. Many people have not vital energy enough to waste any of it on worries and then be able to complete their digestion and other physiological functions with success. The preceding mental condition is a predisposing cause of many a purely physical ailment. It used to be said that during a cabinet crisis in England, or rather just after it was over, attacks of gout were most frequent among prominent politicians. Mental influence usually kept the attacks off until the very end of the crisis. Merchants come down with pneumonia or digestive disturbances more frequently during periods of acute business depression. Physicians are attacked by pneumonia, or influenza in bad form, after they have been wearing themselves out in an epidemic and worrying about patients. Just after a mother has nursed a child through a severe ailment she herself is prone to suffer from some acute infection. Such common-place infections as boils, styes, abscesses and even the more serious osteomyelitis are likely to come at these times.

It is important, then, to know as much as possible about a business man's affairs. Any one who has had a series of tuberculous patients (who were getting along quite well in spite of latent or even active lesions) disturbed by anxieties of one kind or another, knows how much worries may mean. Men will lose weight and appetite and weaken in their general condition as a consequence of some serious business incident, while all the time physical conditions are the same as they were when they were improving. And it must not be forgotten that even in those who do no physical labor, there may be physical conditions of their occupation that are important. Many a business man does his work cooped up in a small office, with insufficient ventilation, and sometimes, especially where his business is on the ground floor of a large building, with so little sunlight that his environment is quite unhygienic. The great air purifier is sunlight. Unless sunlight is admitted for hours every day to the rooms in which people live, the dust that is inevitably breathed will contain living germs, active and noxious, though had they been exposed to sunlight these germs would be harmless.

Especially then for people with respiratory defects of any kind, whether these be tuberculous or of chronic bronchitic character, the conditions surrounding the occupation should be carefully inquired into. Once the family physician knew such things as a matter of course. Now he is likely to know very little. The lack of such information may not be important for the more serious conditions that he has to treat at patients' homes, but they usually mean much for the submorbid conditions, so to say, the discomforts and chronic conditions, which come for office treatment. They mean much for comfort in life, and for the conservation of health and strength. They {178} represent that newer medicine which people are asking of us now so much more than before, which shall keep them in good health and prevent them, as much as possible, from suffering even from minor ills.

Business Habits.--The modern idea of having a flat-top business desk, instead of a roll-top desk, and having it thoroughly cleared off every evening, so that each day's work does not accumulate, is an important psychic factor in the strenuous life, which in recent years many corporations have been taking advantage of. It is well for those who are their own masters to realize the value of this principle. Nothing so disturbs the efficiency of work, nor adds so much to the incubus that work may become, as having a number of unfinished things which keep intruding themselves. It is not always possible to dispose of problems, but discipline is necessary to keep us from pushing business matters aside. Then they have to be done in a rush, very often at a moment when other things are also pressing. The result is poor work, but, above all, a waste of nerve force and energy that leads up to nervous symptoms and eventually nervous exhaustion. The orderly man, who has learned to settle things as they come up, or at definite times, can accomplish an immense amount of work. Some men are born orderly, but any one who wants to do much work must have order grafted on his makeup--a habit which can be made a second nature. It may seem that a physician is unwarranted in intruding on a man's business affairs thus to inquire about the ways he does things, but this is the difference between psychotherapy and the regulation of life as compared with cures by more material but less effective means.

Personal Hygiene.--Expert Advice.--For many men who are much occupied with business, the best possible safeguard for health, as well as the best guarantee against nervous or physical breakdown, would be a detailed consultation once a year with a physician regarding their habits of life and their business in relation to their health, present and future. In recent years many a business firm has found it not only expedient but profitable to turn to an expert accountant or auditing company and ask advice with regard to the management of its business. It is often found that certain business customs are causing serious drains, and that there are newer ways of doing things that save time and money. Sometimes a reorganization of the accounting system, or of the method of dealing with credits and debits, or the receiving or shipping department, proves advantageous to the business. Sometimes it is found that the capital invested will not justify the extension of business that is proposed, and not infrequently it is shown that a proposed extension adds to business movement but does not add to profits. Sometimes there are departments that can be dropped to advantage, though they seem to be adding to both business and profit.

All of this may well be transferred to the question of health in its relation to business. Not infrequently it is found that the capital of strength of the business man is not sufficient to justify the extension that he is planning or has already attempted. Sometimes suggestions can be made with regard to the mode of doing business, the hours employed and the hours of relaxation, that will make business less of a drain on the system. Occasionally arrangements for sleep and exercise, as well as for afternoons or special times of diversion, may save a man from that concentration of attention on one thing {179} which frequently leads to nervous breakdown. Not infrequently business men who are of neurotic habit have customs of doing business which add to their nervous irritability, and these might be modified so as to lessen the call on nervous energy. There is need that the physician be looked to as an expert in personal health and its relation to business, just as the expert accountant or auditing firm is looked to for advice with regard to business methods.

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IV. THE MIDDLE OP THE DAY

Information regarding the mid-day meal will be of value to the physician in many cases. In cities, luncheon, likely to be rather an apology for a meal, is taken rapidly, and immediately there is a return to work. As a medical student in Vienna, I was much interested in the mid-day meal of the bankers and merchants of the old Austrian capital. At that time--I hope they have not changed the good custom since--the banks closed at 12 o'clock and did not open again until 3 o'clock. This gave time for taking the mid-day meal in comfort, and for a proper interval for digestion. In all the southern countries of Europe, for seven or eight months in the year at least, little is done during the two or three hours in the middle of the day. The people get up earlier and rest at mid-day as a break between the afternoon and morning. It is quite beyond expectation that anything like this will ever again be possible in the great commercial cities. The fact that this was the custom of our European forefathers, however, shows how business has obtruded itself on the habits that man would naturally form for himself. Business men hurry to luncheon, or if they take any time over it, it is because they have invited some one to lunch with them with whom they wish to talk over important matters. This means of saving time recalls the well-known expression of James Jeffrey Roche: "Time is money. Every second saved from your dinner now is a sequin in your doctor's pocket later on in life!"

Hurried Lunch.--The seeds of our frequent American dyspepsia are sown partly at the hurried breakfast and then at the hurried mid-day lunch. When a physician finds this to be the case, then the patient's habits must be reformed. Otherwise there is little prospect of relief from neurotic digestive symptoms, or from those uncomfortable feelings so often supposed to refer to the heart, or other important organ, when digestion is interfered with. There should be pleasant company at luncheon if possible; it should be preceded by fifteen or twenty minutes in the open air, with, as far as possible, complete seclusion from business thoughts so as to allow the stomach to secure its share of blood, and it should be followed by at least half an hour of pleasant occupation that does not call for serious mental work. This may not be possible for every one, and many will complain that this is asking too much in our busy time. We physicians are not here to make the nice customs of medicine courtesy to great kings of finance or to the busy tyrants of the professions, but to tell them what we think should be {180} done in order that nature may not be abused. Men should be advised to take their luncheon in some building different from that in which their offices are located, or, if they eat in the same building, to go out on the street for a while before the meal. In the old days men used to call on one another in order to transact business, and these little trips were often made just before or after luncheons.

Now the telephone and the messenger boy have done away with this, with a great saving of time, but with an increase of intensity of labor that makes for nervous exhaustion. Luncheon clubs are excellent things when men do not talk shop, but they have one fatal defect. Almost invariably they lack simplicity of menu, and, because of the variety supplied and the example of others, there is a tendency to eat to excess. A game of billiards after eating is often excellent, because, when standing, digestion is accomplished with more comfort than when seated. A walk after the lighter midday meal is a good thing, though the old saw said "after dinner sit a while," but that was in reference to the largest meal of the day, and may still hold good for the evening meal, which is likely to be the heaviest one.

Women's Lunch.--Women are very likely to take their mid-day meal, when it is their luncheon, very irregularly. If they have to get it for themselves they are likely to be satisfied with almost anything. If they get it outside the house they are likely to take it rather late, so that if they have breakfast before eight o'clock, this putting off of the next meal causes some disturbance of the economy. When the stomach gets to be empty, either there is a tendency to swallow air, or there is a rumbling sense of fullness that disturbs the appetite, or the appetite itself is capricious, and a headache develops. How many headaches are due to missed meals it would be hard to say, but this is one of the most fruitful causes of the ordinary passing headache. Delicate women, and especially those who work, are likely not to eat enough luncheon. All the details with regard to this meal must be known or the physician will find it hard to get rid of many neurotic symptoms, particularly in working women. The same thing is true for the so-called society woman, since she is likely to have a late breakfast and then skip her mid-day meal. This is permissible if she is so stout as to be able to spare it, but it is all wrong if she is thin and needs every ounce of weight.

Nature of the Noon Meal.--During the last two generations fashion, custom and the increasing demands of business have pushed the hour of taking the principal meal farther and farther away from mid-day. There are, however, cases in which it seems better that the principal meal should be taken in accordance with the old custom, about noon time. For tuberculous patients this is especially important. They often have fever in the afternoon that seriously disturbs appetite. They may eat with comfort and relish a couple of hours before the fever is due. For delicate persons, especially those who have not much appetite for breakfast and who can not be persuaded to eat a sufficient amount early in the morning, a hearty meal at noon is almost a necessity. They should be shown how low their nutrition is during working hours. Their principal meal of the day before was taken between six and seven o'clock. They have had a light breakfast, a meager lunch, and naturally have little reserve force during the afternoon hours. As a consequence they become overtired, this lessens the appetite, they do not eat properly, and, {181} above all, they do not digest as well as they would if their last good meal were not so far away. They are suffering from inanition, and, as is well known, starving people cannot be allowed to eat heartily, because their stomachs have not enough vitality to digest well.

It is often difficult to change the hour of taking the principal meal, but in special cases this can be done with decided advantage. I have seen such a change make all the difference between slow recuperation from bad colds, and have seen it of the greatest possible importance in tuberculosis. The very changing of the hour will sometimes suggestively react to make the patient eat more heartily than usual, the day is broken up better, the reaction against the morning discouragement comes earlier, and the patient's general condition improves. Many people rest better at night if their principal meal is taken at the middle of the day.

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V. THE LEISURE HOURS

Then comes the return from business. Here once more the ordinary method of getting on a crowded train, standing up to be pushed and jammed, to have all sorts of unpleasant things happen, to have the pessimism of one's nature stirred to its depths by the utter disregard for women, the heedless rush of men, the roughness of railroad employees, and the general lack of humanity that characterizes the evening rush from business in a large city, is eminently unsuitable as a preparation for dinner; while a calm walk of three to five miles is ideal. To walk home will probably take twenty minutes or half an hour longer, but not more than this--and it avoids the undesirable features of the usual method.

Gymnastics.--Occasionally one finds that men rush through the last hour of business in order to spend an hour in a gymnasium. Often this is quite undesirable. Exercise within doors, taken in a routine manner and merely for the sake of exercise, with no diversion of mind, is eminently unsuitable for the busy man. What he needs is air much more than exercise. Walking out of doors is the very best thing for him. If he walks at a rapid pace, swinging his arms a little freely and carrying a cane in one hand and perhaps a book in the other, because this exercises his fingers and keeps him from having any unpleasant congestion of the hands when they hang down, then the exercise is almost ideal. Owing to the novelty of it, and the interest that a new occupation arouses, great benefit will at first be derived from the gymnasium. Very often, too, the cold plunge after the exercise does more good than the exercise itself. The plunge is real fun, especially when taken with many others, but the exercise itself is likely to degenerate into the sorriest kind of a task. If the man who walks home will take a bath before dinner, the temperature of the water being made suitable to him and the reaction that comes to his particular nature, there is no need of anything else, and there is nothing better that he could do. The walk must be varied. The course must not always be through the same streets. Occasionally it {182} should even lead one to see some monument or new building, or to go out of the way with a friend, so that variety is introduced.

Work at Home.--There are men who in busy times take some of their work home with them. This is a mistake. And though it is the custom to tell the doctor that they cannot do otherwise, it is practically always a bit of self-deception. When the case is properly put before them, they realize, if they already have any neurotic symptoms, that to continue home work will be a serious risk. Most men who carry business home with them, easily get into the habit of pushing certain details away from them during the day with the idea that they will have more time for that in the evening. They do a certain amount of dawdling over their work. If they really resolved to finish work during business hours they could do it, and do it better than during the evening at home. Six hours of work is about all that a man ought to do with his intellect at high pressure. This should be pretty well divided into two periods of three hours each, with an interval of an hour to an hour and a half between. The nearer a man can come to this arrangement the better for him, and the better, also, for his affairs. If he has assumed obligations that require more of his time and attention than this, he is trying to do too much.

After-Dinner Hours.--The evening hours and their proper occupation are important for the business man, or for anyone who is much occupied during the day. The temptation to let the work of the day run over into the evening must be overcome at all costs, or it will prove serious for the health of most men. It is important as far as possible to get something completely different for men to do at night. Many men settle down to the reading of a newspaper or of a magazine or novel. While this does very well under some circumstances, reading does not provide diversion whenever there is serious worry or solicitude over business matters. A man may think that he is occupying himself with the newspaper, but we all know very well that business cares intrude, that business troubles are often doubled by reading about others. The reading of novels does well for a while, but the serious-minded man tires of them and then, while they may occupy a couple of hours, they have exactly the same objection as the newspaper. A genuine diversion should give the physical basis of mind an opportunity literally to remake itself by storing up new energies.

Amusements.--The fact of the matter is that a man must have, if possible, some other serious interest in life besides his business. He must have a hobby. We have discussed this in the chapter on Diversion of Mind and refer to it here only to indicate the importance of knowing something about a man's recreation as well as his work. It is not a casual occupation but a real interest that he should have. This need not necessarily be a useful employment and, indeed, it may be absolutely useless provided it is absorbing. Card playing is an excellent diversion for many people. When joined with gambling, new worries and feverish excitement usually make it harmful for neurotic persons. Chess is hard work, but of a different kind from that of the day and, therefore, often makes an excellent recreation. Any games are good. Bowling, for instance, is excellent, and billiards, if a man has an interest in it, is a fine sport for evening hours. It has the added advantage of physical exercise. A man does not sit down during billiards, crowding his {183} already well-distended abdominal viscera, but walks around and gives his viscera a better chance for their work and aids rather than retards peristalsis.

Encroachment on Sleep.--There is just one defect about some of the more absorbing recreations--they keep a man up too late. Whenever a so-called recreation takes up such time that a man has less than eight full hours in bed, then a mistake, almost sure to be serious sooner or later, is being made. When the physician tries to limit a man's recreation by suggesting an earlier hour for retirement, he may be told that his patient must have some time for diversion and recreation. But the physician must insist that no form of recreation is as good as sleep, and any other form must be limited in order that sleep may be obtained. A man may easily regulate his affairs so that he shall have eight hours of sleep, and it is only negligence of such regulation that gives him the idea that recreation cannot be obtained except after eleven o'clock at night. Little suppers after the theater are often fine diversions, but whenever they interfere with sleep they must not be allowed except at long intervals. Other diversions that keep a man out of bed after midnight are sure not to do good in the long run, though an occasional lapse in this matter may prove a stimulant rather than a depressant. It is custom that must be regulated; an occasional variant from it is rather good than otherwise.

Leisure of the Working Woman.--A woman's occupation, unlike a man's, holds out little future for her. Her occupation does not arouse her ambition. Daily work is a monotonous grind that must be endured for the sake of the wages that it brings. For a time this serves to occupy attention. After some years, when the prospects of matrimony grow less, and further advance is out of the question, women often need to have some special interest that will grip them. The working woman may then need to be tempted to some occupation of mind, especially with the companionship of others, that will give her renewed interests in life. Clubs, charities in which they are active, friends, serious intellectual interests, must all be appealed to, in different cases, in order to secure diversion. Women must have something to look forward to each week. They must know on Monday that before the following Sunday there is going to be a theater party, a lecture, a visit to friends, something to break the deadliness of weekly routine, which is anticipated with pleasure and then pleasantly remembered. This may seem to be only a slight matter, but it is of importance in many cases.

Feminine Occupations.--The occupations of women who stay at home are even more important than those of women who go out to work. In our time the root of much nervousness, as it is called, neurotic symptoms of various kinds and of many symptoms apparently quite distant from real nervousness, is really a lack of occupation. Many women who live in apartment hotels have almost nothing with which to occupy their minds. They are not obliged to get up in the morning if they do not want to, or, at least, any excuse, however slight, serves to keep them in bed. Very often there are either no children or the mother has nothing to do with her children early in the morning. After the age of three, they go off to kindergarten; later on they go to school. Breakfast is sent up, there may be a nap of an hour or two after the meal, and often a magazine is glanced over lying in bed, and perhaps it will be twelve o'clock before madame gets up. Anyone in a position to do this, and who allows the habit to grow, is sure to be profoundly {184} miserable. Without any real occupation of mind, the mind occupies itself with the body and emphasizes every sensation, evokes new pains and aches, and the consequence is likely to be a highly neurotic state.

Such women have nothing serious to think about in the afternoon. At best it is a luncheon engagement with a friend, or attendance at the matinee, or a lecture, or a meeting of a club. For a while, and for a certain few, these things are satisfying, but after they have been indulged in for a time, they pall so completely on most people as to leave them almost helplessly at the mercy of their feelings. These persons may have some favorite charities that occupy part of their time. They may have other interests, but most of these interests are quite amateurish. They create no obligations; they arouse no sense of duty; they are abandoned at a moment for anything else that turns up, and consequently they lack that absorbing power that a real interest gives. It is quite impossible that these people should be either happy or healthy. These ladies of leisure sometimes have fads for physical exercise that keep them from becoming absolutely sluggish, but except in a few cases, these fads pall after a time, and in a few years women of the leisure classes are generally without any interest that will save them from themselves. The root of many a case of nervousness that wanders from physician to physician and then from quack to quack, and from charlatan of one kind to charlatan of another kind, that takes up now this remedy and now that, and advertises each new method of healing--mental, hypnotic, mechanical--is due to nothing more serious than lack of proper occupation of mind.

The Ambition to Have Nothing to Do.--It seems to be the ambition of everyone to reach a place in life so that he can give up work and do nothing. Men and women often envy those whose material situation is such that they are not compelled to work. It is from the leisure classes, however, that our neurotic invalids are mainly recruited. The symptoms these people give will sometimes make one wonder whether they may not be suffering from some serious ailment, but just as soon as the details of their daily occupation are gone into, the real cause for their complaints can be readily seen. Nothing will do them any lasting good until they get interested enough in life to be distracted from themselves. Such men and women are invalids by profession. They are profoundly to be pitied, for they are much more the victims of present-day social conditions than of any special fault of their own. They go from one health resort to another seeking relief and now and again finding it, not because of any special effect of the remedies that they take, but just in proportion to the amount of diversion and occupation of mind they are able to secure in their wanderings. After a time they relapse, then, the old cures having lost novelty, the physician who succeeds in occupying their minds does them good; his brother physician, who does not, fails; but anyone else, however absurd his quackery, who can in any way catch their attention, will benefit them at least for the time being.

Business Anxieties.--The physician should know all that concerns such sources of excitement, worry and anxiety, as are suggested by the words speculation, investment, going on bonds and securities, especially when the person bonded gets into trouble. Fortunately most of these latter sources of worry have been eliminated by the bonding companies of recent years. Details {185} of this kind were given to the old family physician as a matter of course. With the going out of the family physician there has often been no one to replace him in hearing such stories, and it has been harder for some to bear the consequences in solitude. The very telling of many cares lessens the burden of them. The warnings of a medical friend may be more effective in keeping a man from serious loss than those of financial friends. Everyone realizes that the physician's advice is quite unselfish and that what he objects to, even more than the danger and loss of money, is worry and anxiety which may lead to loss of health.

For ordinary therapeutic purposes, the physician may be content to know only the physical signs and symptoms of his patient's affection. For psychotherapeutics, he must, if he would be successful, know every possible source of worry and annoyance and, as nearly as may be ascertained, every slight phase of physical fatigue that may be a disturbing factor in his patient's life. It is surprising how many things the physician will find to correct when he carefully goes over all the actions of the day and ascertains all the possible sources of worry and anxiety his patient may have. It may happen that in many cases he will be unable immediately to remove these sources of worry. But there is relief in telling them, and then, even when they cannot be completely eradicated, they can often be modified. Every improvement of this kind, however slight, is a fountain of favorable suggestion which makes the patient look on the brighter side of life. From every amelioration, however trivial, there is a reaction on the feelings that gives more and more confidence.

{186}

SECTION IV

GENERAL PSYCHOTHERAPEUTICS

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I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOTHERAPY

In formal, deliberate psychotherapeutics the first and most important principle is the treatment of the individual patient, and not of his disease. It is much more important to know the kind of an individual who has pneumonia, as a rule, than to be able to tell the amount of pulmonary involvement. If heart, kidneys or lungs are affected when the disease declares itself, the outlook is extremely unfavorable. Similar conditions are true of the patient's mind. If he is of the worrying kind, the outlook is serious. If, on the contrary, he faces it bravely, and without after-thought except that of responding to medical treatment, he will probably get well.

Pneumonia is only one example of the part the individual plays in therapeutics. In the popular mind it is supposed that for each disease there is a definite remedy, and that when the physician gives that remedy the patient gets well. This idea of specific remedies has come to the people from the physician, but only the quack now pretends to cure disease, the physician helps the patient to overcome the affection from which he is suffering.

No Incurable Patients.--There are many incurable diseases, but there are no patients to whom a doctor should say with truth, "I can do nothing for you." We may be unable to do anything for the underlying disease. That may be absolutely incurable. In spite of this, there are practically always symptoms for which the patient can be afforded so much relief that he feels better than before. This is the most important attitude of mind for the physician who would use psychotherapy. He can always do something. Prof. Richet said not long since, "Physicians can seldom cure, but they can nearly always relieve and they can always console," and it is the physician's duty to lift up and console the mind as well as to heal the body.

Unfavorable Suggestions.--Patients often have many opinions and conclusions with regard to their ailments which are not confided to their medical attendants, and which constitute the basis of many annoying symptoms. They have mental convictions with regard to the incurableness of their ailments, the supposed progressive character of the disease, and the development of symptoms which will still further annoy them, that are often more serious and harder to bear than the symptoms from which they are actually suffering. Unless the physician has their complete confidence, these patients may suffer much in silence, though the revelation of their state of mind would {187} often be sufficient to afford a good measure of relief, and the correction of false notions would do nearly all the rest. Psychotherapy confers its benefits mainly by securing the most complete rapport between the mind of patient and physician. Good advice is often more important than any medicine. The correction of wrong notions will do more to relieve the patient, and make whatever symptoms he has bearable, than most of the anodyne drugs. The stimulation of hope means more than almost anything else in arousing the latent forces of nature and predisposing to recovery. The removal of unfavorable suggestions is but little less efficient.

Study of the Individual.--The great differences in the relations between physicians and their patients is well recognized. To some physicians a patient will present only conventional symptoms, while a follow practitioner will discover the elements of an interesting case. Above all, the painstaking physician, interested in psychology, will find mental and other personal manifestations in his patient that distinctly modify the course of the disease. We must know all that is possible about the patient's attitude of mind toward his malady, and all the ideas that he has acquired with regard to it, either from previous relations with physicians or from what he may have read or heard from others. The removal of many false notions that are thus working harm will reward the medical practitioner who gets at his patient's ideas. The old rule in therapeutics is non nocere--to be sure to do no harm. The special rule in psychotherapy is to be sure to remove all the ideas that are doing harm to the patient and making his symptoms mean more to him than they really signify.

Neutralizing Contrary Suggestion.--In the application of psychotherapy, then, the first principle is the neutralization of unfavorable mental influence. In our day men have such a smattering of knowledge about disease, especially about the worst forms of it, that they are likely to be in a frame of mind with regard to many affections that is quite unfavorable. Many patients think disease and not health. Disease means discomfort, and consequent loss of vital energy and disturbance of the resistive vitality that would enable the patient to throw off the affection. Sometimes the physician does not realize what a large part unfavorable suggestions are playing in the affection. Sometimes patients conceal their state of mind lest the doctor should confirm their worst fears. The preliminary to all successful treatment is to remove unfavorable suggestion.

Favorable Suggestion.--The next thing is to set certain favorable suggestions at work. It is possible always to do this. Even in certain of the acute diseases favorable suggestion has its place, and for all chronic cases this form of therapeutics is extremely important. The very presence of the physician, especially if he is thoroughly in control of himself, placid, imperturbed, evidently ready to use all his powers without any excitement, is of itself the strongest kind of favorable suggestion. From the very beginning of medical history the presence of the physician has in most cases meant even more than his medicines.

Muensterberg, in his recent book on Psychotherapy, has emphasized this in a way that deserves to be recalled:

There is one more feature of general treatment which seems almost a matter of course, and yet which is perhaps the most difficult to apply because it cannot {188} simply be prescribed: the sympathy of the psychotherapist. The feelings with which an operation is performed or drugs given do not determine success, but when we build up a mental life, the feelings are a decisive factor. To be sure, we must not forget that we have to deal here with a causal and not with a purposive point of view. Our sympathy is therefore not in question in its moral value, but only as a cause of a desired effect. It is therefore not really our sympathy which counts but the appearance of sympathy, the impression which secures the belief of the patient that sympathy for him exists. The physician who, although full of real sympathy, does not understand how to express it and make it felt will thus be less successful than his colleague who may at heart remain entirely indifferent but has a skillful routine of going through the symptoms of sympathy. The sympathetic vibration of the voice and skillful words and suggestive movements may be all that is needed, but without some power of awakening this feeling of personal relation, almost of intimacy, the wisest psychotherapeutic treatment may remain ineffective. That reaches its extreme in those frequent cases in which social conditions have brought about an emotional isolation of the patient and have filled him with an instinctive longing to break his mental loneliness, or in the still more frequent cases where the patient's psychical sufferings are misunderstood or ridiculed as mere fancies, or misjudged as merely imaginary evils. Again everything depends upon the experience and tact of the physician. His sympathy may easily overdo the intention and further reinforce the patient's feeling of misery, or make him an hypochondriac. It ought to be sympathy with authority and sympathy which always at the same time shows the way to discipline. Under special conditions, it is even advisable to group patients with similar diseases together, and to give them strength through the natural mutual sympathy; yet this too can be in question only where this community becomes a starting point for common action and common effort, not for mere common depression. In this way a certain psychical value may be acknowledged for the social classes of tuberculosis as they have recently been instituted.

Favorable Environment--After the removal of unfavorable suggestion and the implanting of favorable suggestion, the next point must be the persistent occupation of the patient's mind with thoughts favorable to his condition. A nurse who is inclined to be pessimistic must be taken out of the sick room, and there must be only cheerful faces and cheery people around him. Hence the modern trained nurse, and especially the picked nurse, who does not allow herself to be disturbed, who is not fussy, who is not forcibly cheerful but quietly placid and confident and cheery, means much for the patient's recovery. Relatives are almost sure to exert strong unfavorable suggestions, though time was when the devoted wife or mother might be depended upon to cover up all her personal feelings and give the best possible service for the mental uplift of the patient. When she can thus conceal her own solicitude, a near relative may be the best possible auxiliary in psychotherapeutics.

Natural Relief.--The fourth step in the application of psychotherapeutics is that all the natural modes for the relief of symptoms, the making of patients comfortable in body as well as in mind, must be employed. In acute rheumatism, for instance, a number of small pillows must be at the disposition of the patient so that his limbs can be fixed in those positions in which there is the least discomfort. Every physician should frequently read Hilton's classical volume on "Rest and Pain" because of its unpretentious significance for psychotherapy, as well as its enduring value in the treatment of painful conditions. Just as soon as a patient finds that simple procedures relieve his pain and add to his comfort, his fear of the seriousness of his ailment is lessened, {189} and he begins to get bettor. Cold water in fevers, cold fresh air in pneumonia, all the natural modes of treating disease, thus become active factors in the application of psychotherapy. When fevers were treated by the administration of hot drinks the effect upon the patient's mind must have been quite serious. Freedom to use cold water, just as one wants it and whenever it is craved for, is of itself an excellent suggestion.

Neuroses in Organic Disease.--Fifth, psychotherapy, by suggestion, may alleviate or even completely eradicate neurotic symptoms that develop in connection with organic diseases. Such neurotic symptoms may prove even more bothersome to the patient than the symptoms due to his underlying affection, and may, by interfering with nutrition, hamper recovery. The appetite of a patient who is worrying about a chronic disease will be disturbed, and, as a consequence of insufficient food, constipation and a whole train of attendant evils may ensue. Headache, sleeplessness, worry at slight irritation and exaggerated complaints from slight pain may all be due to this worry and not to the underlying disease. All these, the result of over-solicitude, are attributed by the patient to his chronic ailment. They can be relieved by simple measures after he is saved from his own worry. Until the patient is made to rouse himself and look hopefully at the situation, eating more, getting out more, and relaxing his mind from its constant attention to himself, he cannot get better.

Application of Principles.--It should be pointed out to the patient that there is a constant tendency to exaggerate the significance of disease. This is true in acute as well as in chronic disease, but in acute diseases the necessity for removing unfavorable influences directly is not so urgent, since usually the presence of the physician, with his simple declaration of the meaning of symptoms, is sufficient to neutralize the effect of previous exaggerations.

Secondly, the action of unfavorable suggestions due to imperfect knowledge (everything unknown is magnified, as Cicero said), or to previous medical opinions which the case does not justify, must be stopped. The natural dread which comes to all men in the presence of symptoms of disease must be as far as possible removed.

Thirdly, the favorable elements in the case should be emphasized. This needs to be thoroughly done in order to secure the patient's co-operation, even though the serious possibilities of his ailment may be pointed out to his friends. These friends, however, must be persons who can be absolutely depended on not to reveal by word, or, what is much more important, by their looks or actions, the possible worse prognosis of the case.

Unfortunately, people expect a doctor to tell them the worst, rather than the best. Many physicians seem to have formed the habit of representing the condition of patients as grave as possible, in order, apparently, that they may have more credit when the patient recovers. Not a little of the tendency of ills to hang on in neurotic persons is due to this habit. Over-cautiousness leads some physicians to reveal a case in its worst aspect, lest, by any chance, something unexpected should happen, and the friends of the patient might think that the physician was incompetent because he had not anticipated it. Some of the serious accidents of disease are quite beyond anticipation; but they occur only rarely. For the sake of safeguarding the possible reflection on the physician because of them, it is quite unjustifiable to make bad {190} prognosis habitually, for this acts deterrently on the vital resistance and delays recovery.

Symptoms of Organic Disease.--It is usually considered that psychotherapy is beneficial only in nervous cases; yet we know that all sorts of affections with tissue changes in the skin, in the circulation, and very probably also in the internal organs, may be produced in hysterical affections--ailments dependent on loss of control over the vaso-motor nervous system. Just as ills can be produced, so they may also be cured. As a matter of fact, analysis of the statistics of disease cured by mental influence, shows that it has been more strikingly manifest in organic than in so-called nervous or functional diseases. Neurotic patients often make extremely unsuitable subjects for the exercise of mental influence, because their very nervousness is a manifestation of lack of power properly to control the mind. Cures by mental influence have oftenest been reported in non-neurotic patients. As Dr. Hack Tuke pointed out in "The Influence of the Mind on the Body" as long ago as 1884, it is in such cases as rheumatism, gout and dropsy that benefit was most frequently reported by mental means.

Tuberculosis, certain digestive and intestinal ailments that evidently are associated with tissue changes, have in recent years come particularly into this category of ailments affected by psychotherapy. Dr. Hack Tuke's declaration, made nearly thirty years ago, seems conservative even at the present day: "The only inference which we are justified in drawing from the statistics of the affections cured by mental means is that the beneficial influence of psychotherapeutics is by no means confined to nervous disorders." Many physicians are likely to hold that when cures take place the so-called organic diseases were not actual, but were only supposed to exist because of certain obscure symptoms that apparently could not otherwise be explained. But many of the cases have had external symptoms, striking and unmistakable. To assume that physicians of experience and authority were in error in diagnosing them is simply to beg the question. It is more probable that mental influence acted curatively even over tissue changes as it so often does, directly under our observation, in the production of such changes in the skin.

Tissue Changes From Nerves.--Until one recalls how many physical changes may be brought about by mental influences or emotional disturbances, it is not always clear just how mental influence can affect disease favorably or unfavorably. Prof. Forel, of Zurich, in his "Hygiene der Nerven und des Geistes im Gesunden und Kranken Zusande," Zurich, 1905, English translation 1907, brings together into a single paragraph most of these physical and physiological influences of the mind upon the central nervous system:

Through the brain and spinal cord, thoughts can lead to a paralysing or stimulation of the sympathetic ganglion nodes, and consequently to blushing or blanching of certain peripheral parts. Through disturbance of this mechanism, many nervous disorders arise, such as chilblains, sweats, bleeding of the nose, chills and congestions, various disturbances of the reproductive organs, and, if it lasts long enough, nutritional disturbances in the part of the body supplied by the blood vessels affected. In the same way there are peripheral ganglionic mechanisms which superintend glandular secretion, the action of the intestinal muscles, etc. These likewise can be influenced through the brain by ideas and emotions. Thus we can explain how constipation and a vast number of other disturbances of digestion and of menstruation can be produced through the brain, without having their cause in {191} the place in which they appear. It is for the same reason that such disturbances can be cured by hypnotic suggestion.

Health and the Central Nervous System.--Nature has so constituted and ordered the human economy that its health depends to a great extent on conditions in the central nervous system. We discuss elsewhere the return of vitalism in physiology--that is, the reassertion of a principle of life behind the chemical and physical forces of the human organism regulating it, supplying energy, occasionally enabling it to transcend the ordinary laws of osmosis, or the diffusion of gases. The main seat of this principle of life is in the central nervous system and especially in the cerebral cortex. The importance of this portion of the human anatomy can scarcely be exaggerated. In his inaugural address to the Royal Medical Society, [Footnote 23] delivered at Edinburgh in 1896, Prof. T. S. Clouston, the distinguished English psychiatrist, has a passage on this subject that deserves to be recalled:

[Footnote 23: British Medical Journal, January 18, 1896.]

I would desire this evening to lay down and to enforce a principle that is, I think, not sufficiently, and often not at all, considered in practical medicine and surgery. It is founded on a physiological basis, and it is of the highest practical importance. The principle is that the brain cortex, and especially the mental cortex, has such a position in the economy that it has to be reckoned with more or less as a factor for good or evil in all diseases of every organ, in all operations and in all injuries. Physiologically, the cortex is the great regulator of all functions, the ever active controller of every organ and the ultimate court of appeal in every organic disturbance.

Psychotherapy in Its Relation to Patient and Physician.--In spite of the present-day fad for psychotherapy, I have no illusions with regard to its popularity among patients, unless practiced with due regard to individuals and with proper tact. Psychotherapy has been most effective in the past when it was cloaked beneath the personality of the physician; when it was felt that there was in him a power to do good that must help the patient. This personal influence has to be maintained if the patient's mind is to be influenced favorably. Very few people are willing to think, and still less to welcome the thought, that they themselves are either bringing about a continuance of their symptoms or are hindering their own recovery. They are quick to conclude that this would be a confession that their ills are imaginary. "Imaginary" has no place in medicine. There are physical ills and mental ills. Mental ills are just as real as physical ills. There are no fancied ills. A person may be ailing because he persuades himself that he is ailing, but in that case his mind is so affecting his body that he is actually ailing physically, though the etiology of the trouble is mental.

It is the duty of the physician to get at these mental causes of physical ills and remove them by persuasion, by reassurance, by changing the mental attitude, by making people understand just how mind influences body, but this must be done tactfully. From the beginning of time we have written our prescriptions in such a way that ninety-nine out of one hundred patients have not been able to understand them. It has often been said that we should change this method of prescription writing, and write directions for the compounding of our medicines in plain vernacular. Besides the many {192} scientific reasons against this, it is better for patients not to know exactly the details of their treatment. Physicians, because of their real or supposed knowledge, are usually the worst patients. If, when a physician is ill, a drug is administered in which he has lost confidence, he will really oppose its action by contrary suggestion, and perhaps neutralize it. Confidence added to the action of the drug itself, makes it much more potent and much more direct. Hence the suggestive value of a prescription the ingredients of which are unknown. Every physician knows of patients who have declared that a drug has been tried on them without avail, when it has only been used in such small quantities as to be quite nugatory in its effect. Such use was enough to prejudice them against it so that when given in physiological doses it failed to work properly.

Opium given to a trusting patient, in gradually reduced doses until practically there is nothing but the flavor of the drug in the compound that he takes, will continue to have its effect. But to a patient prejudiced against the drug, even large doses of opium will prove unavailing, because the lack of confidence disturbs the mind, directs attention to whatever discomfort may be present, emphasizes the ill and prevents sleep by preoccupying the mind with the thought that neither the drug nor the dose can accomplish its purpose. In a word, medicine plus mental influence is extremely valuable. Medicine minus mental influence is valuable but sometimes ineffective. Medicine, with mental influence opposed to it, is often without effect because of the strong power the mind has over bodily functions.

Most people would rather be cured by some supposedly wonderful discovery, which presumedly made it clear that they had been suffering from a severe and quite unusual ailment, than by ordinary simple methods. The recent growth of interest in psychotherapy and psychology has, however, somewhat prepared people to accept mental influence as an important factor in therapeutics. The direct and frank use of psychotherapy will be of benefit to these people. But in most cases mental influence will have to be exerted in such a way as to conceal from patients that it is their own energy we want to tap to help them cure themselves. This would be for them quite an unsatisfactory method of being cured. In practically all cases such a combination of methods is needed that the place of mental influence is not over-emphasized. As a rule, mental influence must not be used alone. Its place is that of an adjunct, a precious auxiliary, to other methods of treatment.

Psychotherapy represents one of the important elements in therapeutics, and we must learn to use it in a way suitable to our patients. We have to learn to use our drugs in accordance with the nature and physical make-up of the patient. We have to find out by experience just how to use hydrotherapy for each individual. Varying currents of electricity and varying forms of electrical action are needed for different individuals. Just in the same way, our psychotherapy must be dosed out according to the special need of each individual, the form of the affection and the particular kind of mind that is to be dealt with. To learn the place of mental influence in healing, so that we shall not be attributing to other therapeutic factors what is really due to the mind, will be a great advance in therapeutics. This is the mistake that we have been making in the past.

In brief, the applications of the general principles of psychotherapy {193} include all means, apart from the physical, of influencing patients. Drugs will always have a large place in rational therapy. Many physical remedial measures, hydrotherapy, electrotherapy, climatotherapy and others, must be important adjuncts. To these is now added psychotherapy. It has been used before, as have most of the other forms of therapy, but in our day we are trying to systematize therapeutic modes so as to secure the greatest possible information with regard to their exact application. This is what must be done with regard to psychotherapy also. Just now its importance is being exaggerated by ardent advocates. In every department of therapy this has always been done by enthusiasts. The business of the practicing physician must be to select what is best, and above all what is sure and harmless, from the many suggestions offered, so as to build up a practical body of applied truth.

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SECTION V

ADJUVANTS AND DISTURBING FACTORS

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I. SUGGESTION

Under the head of Adjuvants and Disturbing Factors in the psychic treatment of patients come the various phases of life which make for and against such a favorable state of mind as predisposes to the continuance of good health, minimizes inhibition, and adds to favorable suggestion. By modifying the modes of life, an ever renewed set of suggestions is initiated. By definite instruction and advice with regard to exercise, position, training, habit, pain, occupation of mind and diversion of mind, patients may be profoundly influenced, and gradually made to take on an entirely new attitude of mind towards themselves. These chapters, then, while apparently much more concerned with physiotherapy than psychotherapy, are really directions for the use of such physical methods as by frequent repetition make the most valuable suggestions. There is probably nothing more valuable in the ordinary application of psychotherapy than these various auxiliaries, with their power to remove disturbing factors, while, on the other hand, nothing aids more in bringing relief for many conditions than the removal of certain disturbing factors.

There is now a general recognition of the fact that suggestion in the waking state can in most cases be as therapeutically efficient as hypnotism, and is probably even more enduring in its effects when successful, without the dangers and sequelae connected with hypnosis. Every idea tends to act itself out. When we crave something, when there are active ideas of desire, there usually are movements of our flexor muscles. These affect the hands especially. At moments of hatred, detestation or abhorrence our extensor muscles are affected, as if we would wave these things away from us. There may even be an involuntary turning of the trunk muscles, as if we would no longer face what is abhorrent, though the repulsive thing may be present only to the mind. It is not far-fetched to argue that, since the voluntary function of muscles is thus influenced, other functions are also touched by emotions, ideas, trains of thought, especially when the mind is much concentrated on them.

Bishop, the so-called mind-reader, whose exhibitions attracted much attention in London and New York some years ago, confessed that his feats were accomplished mainly through muscle reading. He would permit a committee to select a book in a library in a certain house, and even a particular page of {195} that book, and then, blindfolded, sitting with the committee in a carriage with his hand on the forehead and the arm of one of the committee, he would direct just where the carriage should be driven and would, while always continuing his contact with the member of the committee, go to the particular house and room, select the special book, and eventually find the page. There was no opportunity for collusion in some of these feats. The most startling things were often accomplished by the system of forcing a choice which prestidigitateurs use in order to compel the taking of the particular card by suggestion (though all the time they seemed to be leaving absolute liberty of selection to the person), but there was much, besides this, required to accomplish what he did. He said that there were always involuntary muscle movements, little starts and tremors that guided him in his work. Other exhibitors have been able to use this to a considerable extent, though not with Bishop's success. That our thoughts can be read in our muscle system is interesting and valuable confirmation of the unconscious tendency of ideas to affect the body.

When a single idea occupies the consciousness it will, some psychologists insist, necessarily act itself out unless some distracting thought prevents it. We know how difficult it is to stand at the edge of a height, say at the brink of a waterfall or on the cornice of a high building, or to look down a mine or elevator shaft, because the thought comes to us, how dreadful it would be to plunge over. As a consequence of this insistent idea taking possession of our consciousness, we have the sense of falling, we become tremulous and have to withdraw, or we would actually fall, or find in ourselves a tendency to throw ourselves over. There are persons who cannot even sit in the front row of a balcony because of the constant effort required to neutralize the suggestion that they may fall or throw themselves over its railing. Curious sensations become associated with this idea--a feeling of numbness and tingling in the back, sometimes a girdle feeling, sometimes a sense of suffocation. All of these are due to the concentration of attention on a single idea and its suggestions.

Very few men, shaving themselves with an old-fashioned razor, have not, at moments of worry and nervousness, sometimes had the thought of how easy it would be to end existence by drawing the edge of the razor through the important structures in the neck. Some are so affected by this thought that they have to give up shaving themselves. It is a surprise usually to find how otherwise sensible, according to all our ordinary standards, are the individuals who confess to having had annoyance from such thoughts. This illustrates how strongly suggestive the concentration of attention may make an idea, and how much a single idea, when it alone occupies the center of consciousness, tends to work itself out in act, though there is no reason at all for willing in that direction. It is not improbable that in some inexplicable cases of suicide the tendency has actually worked itself out.

The expression, "he is a man of one idea," enshrines in popular language the conclusion of psychologists that if a single idea is present in the mind it will surely work itself out. We all know how much men of one idea accomplish. All their powers, physical and mental, are brought to bear on its development. Obstacles that deter other men, conditions that prevent others from daring even to think of doing the thing, seem as nothing to the man {196} of one idea, and in spite of discouragement, and even apparent failure, he often succeeds, notwithstanding obstacles that seemed insurmountable. What is thus true in the practical world is paralleled, for both good and ill, in the microcosm of the human body. A man who has one idea to urge him on is capable of accomplishing things in spite of pains and aches and all sorts of disturbances of function. On the other hand, if the one idea is unfavorable, then, in spite of a heritage of good physical and mental powers, his efficiency is inhibited. If a man gets an idea that there is something the matter with any organ, and concentrates attention on it, he will surely disturb the function of that organ. Just the opposite, however, will happen in case, even with physical defect, he believes that there is nothing the matter, or only something that can be overcome. This is the power of faith as illustrated in the various forms of faith healing, from mental science to Eddyism and the rest.

This is the power that the physician must learn to use. In The Lancet for November, 1905, Dr. J. W. Springthorpe, writing on the "Position, Use and Abuse of Mental Therapeutics," said:

Few indeed are the medical practitioners who daily prescribe suggestion as well as diet, hygiene and drugs. Yet the physician who makes even a minimum effort in this direction often does more for his patient than his more highly qualified confrere, who makes none. To some, and they naturally the most successful, this endeavor comes without conscious search, and improves with experience, but in some measure it may be acquired by all and no one who has become familiar with its powers will henceforward be content to remain without its constant aid.

This power is thoroughly exploited by the irregular practitioner, and the regular practitioner is bound in duty to learn to use it just as thoroughly.

What is true for the lesser faculties is eminently true for our most important faculty, the intellect. We all know how intellectual training enables us to accomplish without difficulty what at first seemed almost impossible. Not only that, but we acquire the power to devote ourselves to a subject that was at first irksome, if not actually forbidding. There are educators who insist that this discipline of mind, by which the power to devote ourselves to what we do not care for is gained, is the principal fruit of genuine education. It has been lost, or at least impaired to a great degree, by educational experiments, especially those related to the elective system which pushed interest, instead of discipline, into the foreground of education. In the same way the power of self-control, and the faculty of self-denial, so precious to the human race, have been lessened by the methods of training which omitted the consideration of these and emphasized the idea of personal comfort. Much can be done to make the unpleasant things that are inevitable in life not only tolerable, but actually to give a satisfaction surpassing selfish pleasure. It is this discipline that is needed in psychotherapy at the present time and the physician must endeavor to encourage it by every means in his power.

The one purpose of the use of suggestion in therapeutics, then, is to secure as far as possible concentration of mind on a single idea. This is what is done in hypnosis, but frequently in such a way as to leave the idea {197} to work out unfavorably associated suggestions. If there could, in the conscious state, be the same absolute concentration of mind on an idea, a great force for good, without accompaniment of ill, would be secured. Experience has shown that with patient effort and definite methods such concentration of attention on a single idea can be secured, at least to such an extent as to make it efficiently therapeutic.

Ordinarily, suggestion accompanies the material remedies that the doctor prescribes. He must emphasize just when and how the medicine is to be taken, and it is well to emphasize the effects that are expected and just about how they will come. If he is prescribing a tonic, he does not merely say before meals. He specifies from ten to twenty minutes before meals, according as he wishes it taken, with a definite amount of water, stating that the taste of it will excite appetite and that only food in reasonably liberal quantities will satisfy the craving produced by it. If he is prescribing a laxative, he states just when it should be taken and when its effects may be expected. The arousing of expectancy does much to relax inhibition and to permit the flow of nervous impulses that may be helpful. If a sleeping potion is given, the patient is directed to compose himself for sleep immediately after it is taken, or to take it just a definite time before he gets into bed, and then to expect its action in the course of twenty minutes or a half hour, designating rather definitely just when it shall have its climax of effect. Two or three things done together, as, for instance, a gentle rubbing with cool water over the body to produce a glow, a warm foot-bath, and then a sleeping potion, will combine to produce a climax of physical and psychical effect.

In many conditions that come for treatment to the modern physician, the physical remedies are much less important than the psychical. This is particularly true for the affections known as psychoneuroses, in which some slight nervous disturbance is exaggerated into an extremely painful condition or a disturbing paralytic state; in the so-called hysteria of the older times; in the drug habits; in the sex habits; in the over-eating and under-eating habits, and then with regard to dreads and other psychic disturbances connected with dreams, premonitions and the like. In all these cases it is important to secure concentration of the patient's mind on a neutralizing suggestion. This must be done deliberately and in such a way as to secure thorough concentration of attention. It is often a time-taking process, but nearly everything worth while requires time, and the results justify the expenditure. Methods mean much in the attainment of this. They must be impressive, the patient must be convinced of the power of the physician to help him, and he must have trust in the efficacy of the mode of treatment.

The patient should be put into a comfortable position, preferably in a large, easy arm-chair, should be asked to compose himself in such a way as to bring about thorough relaxation of muscles, and then to give his whole attention to the subjects in hand. Occasionally the arms should be lifted and allowed to fall, to see whether relaxation is complete, and the knee jerks may be tested, to show the patient that he is not yet allowing himself fully to relax. There should be no lines in the face: the muscles around the mouth, and especially those in the forehead, should relax. It is surprising how {198} much can be done, sometimes by slight touches on the forehead, to secure this. The patient should then be made to feel that the tension in which he has been holding himself, and which makes it so difficult for him to relax, has really been consuming energy that he can use to overcome the tendencies to sensory or motor disturbance, or to supply the lack of will which makes him a victim of a drug or other habit, or takes away from him that mental control that would enable him to at once throw off dreads and doubts and questionings and bothersome premonitions which now, because of the short circuiting on himself through worry and nervousness, he cannot do.

Two or three seances usually show a patient how much better control over himself even a short period of relaxation will give. He comes out of a ten-minute session of relaxation, during which he has been talked to quietly, soothingly, encouragingly, with a new sense of power. Often he feels that there will be no difficulty in overcoming his habit. This may pass, of course, but he has received a new idea of his own resources of energy and self-control.

In most cases it is well, after securing relaxation, to ask the patient to close his eyes gently and to keep them closed till all his muscles are relaxed. Then suggestions may be made to him with regard to his power to control cravings, and to put away doubts and questionings, because, after all, as he sees them himself, they are quite irrational and entirely due to habitual tendencies that he has allowed to grow on him. A concentration of attention on the idea, not only of conquering but of being able to conquer, will be secured. Unless this complete attention can be had, suggestion in the waking state may not prove efficient. There are nervous, excitable people for whom, at the beginning, it will be quite impossible to secure such relaxation and peaceful quiet as will be helpful to them. For these a number of seances may be necessary, but on each occasion a little more of quieting influence is secured.

In recent years, this quiet, peaceful condition, with eyes closed, thorough relaxation and absolute attention, has sometimes been spoken of as the hypnoidal state. If it be recalled that hypnos in Greek means sleep, and that this is a state resembling sleep with the restfulness that sleep gives, the term is valuable in its suggestions. If, however, the word is connected with hypnotism, then there may be an unfortunate connotation. This state is entirely free from the dangers of hypnotism, and instead of making a patient dependent on his physician, teaches him to depend on his own will. It is not a new invention as this term hypnoidal might seem to indicate, but is as old as our history at least.

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