/ "V I I 1 * \V I A> p . ^ <^ '°^V ^ ^ ■>' * -p "% ^v * CA~ %. ^' W /• O0 x / s • • , ^- * ' « ° ' ^° °^ J - %cv -V * -X » f l -i * v^T ^> * .., s o ? ^0- -o ' * ^v^ .ttf 7. V * ' y O0^ \0 G> %. / c *Un$ '00 3 "oo^ ,S f inhalation and exhalation. The method found to have yielded splendid re- sults is to take twenty deep breaths upon rising, and before taking a sponge bath. Ten breaths should be taken in each of the two positions herein described. First, the arms should be extended at right angles to the body, the hands meeting, and the chest being well brought out. As the arms are brought back as far as possible horizontally, a deep breath should be taken slowly, the breath being ex- haled as the arms are moved forward again until the hands meet. Second, and similarly, raise the arms from the sides until the hands meet above the head, taking a deep breath at the same time. Then lower the arms into position, exhaling at the same time. Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. The breaths should be inhaled and exhaled slowly and regularly, keeping time with the movements of the arms. By this means, the most important parts of the nervous system are gently but firmly exercised, thus Health Habits 89 being toned and braced up. If such exercises are persistently done, and a few others of a general character are also practised, such as stimulate the general circulation of the blood, we are confident that the results will be surprising. It should be borne in mind that the sponge bath immediately following these exercises is of vital im- portance. Let it be cold if possible. If the health is such that the regime is too severe, though this is not commonly the case, then approach the cold sponge as nearly as may be. Usually no injurious effects will follow. Provided the blood is freely circulating, the reaction takes place at once. Of course, the whole proceedings are followed by a good brisk "rub down" with a rough towel. When the operation is complete, one is conscious of some- thing of the meaning of the word health. (3) Good health is next to impossible without due regard to exercise. It is especially so in regard to nervous ailments. It is, however, impossible to generalise wisely as to the kind or amount of ex- ercise required. These must vary according to the constitution, condition and temperament in each case. But exercise of some kind, and in some meas- ure, is imperative. As Frederick the Great is re- ported to have said, "Man seems more adapted for a postillion than a philosopher." Sedentary habits are inimical to a good, sound, healthy nervous con- dition. The more natural one's habits are the bet- 90 Nerves and the Man ter, and whether it is walking or golf or gardening, exercise cannot be dispensed with. The writer has found walking and cycling to be among the best forms of exercise. Golf, too, has much to say for itself. Provided one does not play beyond his strength, as he is very apt to do, it is an ideal game for those whose nerves are upset and who need an interest such as can take them out of themselves. Its movement, its interest, its possibili- ties for dexterity, and its immediate and yet post- poned aims, these, along with the hopes it engen- ders and the despair it triumphs over, all combine to make it the favourite pastime it has become. Where those suffering from nervous troubles are not immoderately carried away by the game, and so tempted beyond their strength, golf is one of the finest aids possible for the rebuilding of the shat- tered nervous system. (4) Further, too much importance cannot be at- i tached to fresh air. This is especially important at the very beginning of nerve trouble. In most cases, it is not possible to choose the exact neigh- bourhood in which it is best to live. But, it is al- ways possible to get the best out of one's surround- ings, wherever one's lot may be cast. Generally speaking, one should flee bad air as much as pos- sible, both indoors and out. Personally, we have found that a dry bracing air is the desideratum. In any case, one can hardly have too much pure air, and for these reasons: under the influence of active Health Habits 91 life in the open, the nutritive exchanges are stimu- lated, the appetite is improved, with the result that more food is taken. So that, if one's walks and ex- ercise generally are not excessive, the body "puts on weight." Further, owing to the better respiration, the muscles involved in breathing become stronger, the breathing is deeper, and the contractile energy of the heart and vessels is considerably increased. The cumulative effect of these is that sleep becomes easier, which is a matter of first concern to the class with which we are especially dealing. What is to be aimed at is the fresh-air habit, the ordering of one's life so that as much of it as possible is spent in the open. It is interesting and illuminating to note that the old English families were, and are, county families, not town families, and, from all accounts, these families were, and are, of a virile race, living their lives away from the towns and cities, which, in these days, are the great nerve-racking centres. The moral is plain, and our aim in this chapter is to point the moral to all those whose nerves are on edge, and who are paying the penalty of an artificial and over-stressed life. The writer has found that the best results accrue from a lavish use of his own garden. Being fa- voured by locality, he has made the most of it. It is possible to spend most of one's spare time in walking and resting under the shadow of one's own vine and fig-tree. It is not necessary to have a large 92 Nerves and the Man garden, and it is possible to make a lot out of a lit- tle. A small garden, well set out, with plenty of colour in it, may be a source of unimaginable re- freshment. A fairly comfortable garden seat and a hammock lend themselves to the most pleasant and recreative treatment. With the aid of a cushion and a rug one can spend most of his evenings out- side, not merely idly passing the time, but doing various kinds of work. Further, we have found that the sleep one gets in a hammock, on a summer's night, is about as helpful to jaded nerves as any- thing we can imagine. Provided one is well clothed, or wrapped up, there is no danger, and such a practice is quite feasible during several months of the year, even in a climate so variable and un- certain as our own. (5) As to diet, it is almost sufficient to call at- tention to its importance. It is important because, in serious nerve trouble, the digestive apparatus is almost immediately affected. It can hardly be said that there is a special diet regime for nerve troubles. Still, there can be no question that, in such cases, diet may be, and ought to be, directed along spe- cial lines. Here, one cannot do better than put himself into the hands of his physician. Generally speaking, the consensus of expert opin- ion leans to the view that the food taken is usually excessive, especially among the so-called better classes. Formerly, it was held that a larger quan- tity was necessary than is allowed to-day. At the Health Habits 93 present time, the proper mastication of one's food is not given a second place either to the quality or the quantity. Mastication of each mouthful of food, until all sense of taste is gone, is held to-day as one of the prime factors in longevity. This was the gospel of men like Mr. Horace Fletcher. After the most careful experiments, he found that by eating slowly one could do with less food and, at the same time, accumulate a greater reserve of energy. Mr. Gladstone assured us that the secret of his splendid health was his habit of taking twenty-five bites at every bit of meat. How far this practice interfered with the pleasures of social intercourse, at meal times, is an interesting question, bearing in mind his extraordinary conversational powers. At any rate, Gladstone in this respect is an example, for there can be no doubt that most of us incline to eat too much and to eat too fast. The result is that too much of our energy goes into our digestion and too little into our work. "Go to your banquet then, but use delight So as to rise still with an appetite." Personal experience, as well as general observa- tion, has convinced the writer that the tobacco habit is often a serious factor in some forms of nervous ailments. Some medical authorities avow that ex- cessive smoking is one of the exciting causes of nerve trouble. Of course, we are now dealing with the 94 Nerves and the Man use of tobacco as it bears upon the problem of nerv- ous breakdown. Our aim is simply to indicate how far it helps or hinders in arresting the trouble, and in restoring the shattered nervous system. It may be said, first of all, that there is consid- erable agreement that tobacco, even in nerve strain, may not be harmful, where it is indulged in in strict moderation. To begin with, there is little doubt that it has laxative properties. Experience confirms this beyond doubt. Then, at certain times and un- der certain conditions, it has been proved to be a comfort. After unusual strain or mental excite- ment, the writer has found that its soothing effects have been beneficial. He has also proved that whilst a little helps under these conditions, the lit- tle more does real mischief. Further, a pipe or a cigar, after a meal, has this further use, it inclines the smoker to that half an hour's rest, in the semi- recumbent position, which is so helpful to proper digestion. Experience has demonstrated that, for the class of people with whom we are dealing, tobacco is harmful, except in moderation and immediately after meals. We have seen cases, both among men and women, in which the nervous system has been seriously affected by the excessive use of tobacco, especially where the habit of inhaling has been ac- quired. Indeed, in some cases, especially among women, there can be little doubt that the cigarette habit has been the exciting cause. Health Habits 95 No doubt the use of tobacco, in many cases, is rather an effect than a cause. It is the blind at- tempt to mitigate some of the most troublesome symptoms of nerve trouble. It is certain, however, that often the remedy here is worse than the dis- ease, and that ultimately it does immeasurable harm. Speaking of alcohol in relation to nervous ail- ments, we say most emphatically that it is distinctly harmful. It is bad, first, because it deranges the processes of nutrition, and, secondly, because of its own toxic or poisonous effects. Since depression and general low vitality are frequently the accom- paniments of nervous disorders, the temptation to resort to alcoholic stimulants finds in such sufferers an easy prey. The temptation, however, must be resisted to the death, for that way madness lies. The safe road both for men and women, suffering from nervous ills, is to flee alcohol entirely, since alcohol affects not only the brain but the nervous system generally. Such, then, are the general lines along which those suffering from nervous breakdown should proceed, if their general fitness is to be maintained, and their special trouble kept well in hand. The whole is greater than its part, and mostly the part is affected by the whole. It is therefore of supreme impor- tance that matters like deep breathing, exercise, fresh air, diet and stimulants should be seriously consid- ered, if a return to a reasonable measure of sound health is to be attained. Given a fair amount of 96 Nerves and the Man »— — -^ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — i — _ ^— »__^___ time and attention along the lines we have sug- gested, we are confident that the victims, with whom we are dealing, may look forward with hope and confidence. DONTS 1. Don't neglect your general health. Your nerves de- pend upon your general fitness. 2. Don't think too much about your health. Take care of your health habits, and your health will take care of itself. 3. Don't forget that fresh air means fresh life. Open spaces and sunlight are the best nerve tonics. 4. Don't lounge through life. Move briskly and buoy- antly. Exercise is the secret of strength, and is possible in our ordinary walking movements. 5. Don't bolt your food. Twenty bites to a mouthful, it is avowed, will add twentv vears to vour life. 6. Don't smoke to excess. If you must smoke, do it in strict moderation, and avoid cigarettes, which often mean the vicious habit of inhaling. 7. Don't take alcohol. It is the arch foe of the brain, and the destroyer of the nerve tissue. 8. Don't think illness but health. CHAPTER XII MENTAL CONTROL It is when the man, suffering from nervous break- down, realises that his trouble is mental as well as nervous that he becomes alarmed. When he finds that he cannot attend, that the memory has become fitful and unreliable, and that he cannot keep his mind focussed upon a given point for long, if at all, it is then that he becomes aware of the seriousness of his case. His mind flits from point to point. It does not rest firmly upon anything it sees or hears, and hence bad impression and poor power of recall. In brief, he has lost control over his mental activi- ties, and loss of control here is vital, since person- ality itself is a mind under the guidance of that mys- terious entity we call the "self." The writer himself knows how utter is the feel- ing of helplessness when the mind has fallen into this condition. He knows the confusion which en- sues when, in conversation, for example, the thread of discourse is suddenly broken, and the mind can- not recall even the subject of conversation. He also knows how distressing it is to be forced to close the book or the newspaper, owing to the pains in 97 98 Nerves and the Man the head which accompany such attempts. These and similar experiences are the unmistakable signs that the nervous system is perilously impaired, and that the time has come for the most serious treat- ment. The brain is largely composed of an elaborate sys- tem of nerve centres. It is as these centres work harmoniously together that the brain functions in a normal and healthy manner, and the mind thinks and feels in right proportions and relations. It is this lack of harmonious working, between the nerve centres, which probably accounts for that lack of balance and proportion so commonly found in cases of nervous breakdown. The hypersensitiveness, the touchiness, the annoyance at trifles, and the imag- ined slights, these, along with the gloom which set- tles upon the mind from time to time, are the results of derangement in the nerve centres. In other words, they are the result of breakdown in the nerv- ous system. Now, the causes of this breakdown, as we have seen, are various. But whatever the cause there is always present the physical factor. Ultimately, it means lack of nerve energy, which again means im- poverishment in the nerve cells, the treatment of which we have dealt with elsewhere. Besides the physical factor, however, there is the mental, and it is to the latter, as much as to the former, that we must look for restoration and re- construction. As Dr. Robertson Wallace says, in Mental Control 99 his illuminating little book on "Nervous Disorders of Modern Life," the flabby brain is no more fit for sound cerebral activity than the flabby heart for an efficient circulation. It must be toned up by exer- cise of sheer will-power, cured of its inherent tend- ency to aberration, by practice of the habit of men- tal concentration, by the strengthening of its powers of observation, differentiation, perception, reason- ing, memorising, and other faculties." That is to say, mental control is the result of strict discipline, and it is to the best means of imposing such disci- pline upon the mind that we now turn our attention. First. — It is important to remember that almost our first concern, in regaining the control of the mind, is the acquiring of the habit of inhibition. But what is inhibition*? The term really means re- straint. In the special connection with which we are dealing, it means the bringing about of dimin- ished activity. It is the power of not doing or feel- ing or thinking. At once, we realise that inhibition touches one of the leading weaknesses of highly strung nervous people. Time after time they find themselves doing things they know they ought not to do, and giving in to stimuli to which they feel they ought not to respond. This means lack of mental control, that is to say, lack of inhibition. It is said by Dr. D. Fraser Harris, in his fas- cinating little work on "Nerves," that "a person, no matter how highly educated otherwise, is a neural monster if he has not inhibition." Inhibition, then, 100 Nerves and the Man has this initial advantage; it means an economy of energy. By reining in the movements of a horse, we reserve activities which may express themselves later in doing draught work, or in increasing its speed. Similarly inhibition, in those suffering from nerve strain, means the economising of nerve forces, which otherwise might be squandered, and which may be rightly directed towards definite ends. To illustrate what we mean, take the case of the impulse to cough. It is purely what we may call a reflex action, that is, one which takes place with- out the interposition of the brain. It is an action not completely within the power of mental control. But we can restrain the tendency to cough. As we can partly check movement of the limbs when we are tickled, so we can check, up to a certain point, the tendency to cough. This is inhibition. The same thing applies to the tendency to be moved strongly by some emotion, such as results from hear- ing bad news. The initial depressing effect may be corrected by the action of the will. So that whether the reflex action be of a conscious or uncon- scious kind, it may usually be modified at least by determined control. Let the habit of correcting or controlling these reflex actions be cultivated. By this means, we shall save potencies and energies which at present are wasted, and which are necessary not only for the repair of the nervous system, but also for the acquiring of mental control. Mental Control 101 Secondly. — Those suffering from nervous break- down, and who consequently have partly or wholly lost the power of seeing and remembering detail, should begin to attend, for attention is the first rung in the ladder of concentration. And they should begin by developing the powers of sight and hear- ing, since it is chiefly by these two means that at- tention is acquired. How frequently we exclaim when spoken to, "What's that?" or "What do you say?" The fact is we know what it is that is said to us. It is fre- quently lack of attention that forces the question, "What's that?" The mind is away, perhaps on a journey, whilst the eye or the ear only is attending. And what one has to strive for is the perfectly har- monious working together of mind and sense, so that the act of seeing or hearing shall be complete and immediate. Now, the power of attending is based upon in- terest. Attention, however, is almost impossible, unless it is stimulated in this way. Hence, if there is no interest there can be little or no attention. Strive, therefore, to arouse interest in the matter which calls for attention. Lack of interest often means lack of knowledge, and the fact is that at- tention and interest may be, each in turn, both cause and effect. We become interested by attending, and we attend best when we are interested. In any case, and by any and every means, we must acquire the / 102 Nerves and the Man habit of attention if we would recover the power of mental control. It should be said that the discipline involved in acquiring or regaining the power of attention may be itself exceedingly interesting. It need not be very difficult, provided the exercises are wisely chosen. The following exercises are suggested: — 1. Note carefully the features, in detail, of two or three faces each day. Force yourself to describe each feature minutely. Write your description in a note-book, so that you may be able to test your accuracy by reference. 2. Examine the clock on the mantel-shelf. Look care- fully at the dial plate, at the hands, at the case, searching for detail which hitherto has escaped your attention. Listen to the ticking of the clock, and note the peculiar kind of noise it makes when being wound up. 3. Take a good look into a room. After a couple of glances, close the door, and describe as well as you can the number and kind of articles within. The colour and pat- tern of the carpet, the number of the chairs and the kind of upholstering, the number of the pictures and the kind of framing and the nature of the subjects. These, and such like detail, should be noted, and, by practice, a certain amount of speed in description attained. In each case, accuracy should be our first aim, and then speed. Look at the object for a couple of seconds, and then test yourself as to the quality and amount of detail you have grasped. Pay attention to things. Note carefully and exactly colours, shapes, sizes, bulk, and so on. And remem- ber that sight is mental as well as physical. There- Mental Control 103 fore, look with the mind. Listen with the mind. Be alert. Often, there's life in a look, and to fail to notice is frequently to fail to live. The fol- lowing exercises are suggested as good objects for observation: (a) A fountain pen, (b) a watch case, (c) a penny piece, (d) a letter in the alphabet, (e) a leaf, (/) a pair of scissors. "But what is the use of noting so much detail?" it may be asked. "Does it not unnecessarily bur- den the mind?" Commonly, detail itself may not be of first-class importance, though in some cases it is vital. The primary object of observing detail, in this connection, however, is not the value of the detail itself so much as the mental exercise involved in seeing or grasping it. It means the development or the recovery of the power of attention and, since attention is the first movement of the mind in the process of concentration, it is the a, b, c of mental control or efficiency. We cannot concentrate or gain control over the mind unless we can first of all attend. Now, in nervous breakdown, lack of the power of attention is a leading symptom. The mind turns away from detail, lacking the nervous energy nec- essary for attention. Owing to nervous derange- ment, there is a lack of patience and the power of taking pains. It is as we cultivate this ability to take pains, and to be careful of small detail, that the mind regains its normal power of attention and concentration. 104 Nerves and the Man Therefore, pay attention. Take careful note of qualities, distinctions, relations, outlines and spe- cial features. Mark the place whence you take, and where you put things. Have a place for every- thing, and put everything in its place. Further, note the lines of streets and squares, and the names of them. Keep the north and south positions in mind, so that you may be sure of directions. As- sociate names and faces. Do not think of the one without the other. Accustom yourself to note points in your walks, to observe special characteris- tics of the people you meet, and, generally, to mark the outlines of your immediate surroundings. Thirdly. — -Mental control is dependent upon the power of concentration, as we have seen in the fore- going remarks on attention. Now, the material or objects of concentration may be roughly divided into things and thoughts. As we have seen, our first efforts should be directed towards things. The reason is obvious. It is easier to attend to or con- centrate on things than on ideas. Even when at- tending to things, the common difficulty is mind- wandering. And this weakness of mind-wandering is very common, not only in cases of nervous break- down, but generally. It is lack of control which, in every case, means mental inefficiency. Having given due regard and practice to attend- ing or concentrating on things, we are then the bet- ter able to concentrate on thoughts or ideas. Until we have attained some measure of mastery in at- Mental Control 105 tending to things we cannot hope to grasp firmly abstract realities like ideas, thoughts, principles, ar- guments, and the rest. That is to say, we must do first things first, and then the problem of concen- tration is not so difficult. Supposing a certain point in the line of battle is threatened by the enemy. The thing to do is to concentrate your forces there, until the danger is past. The class of people with whom we are deal- ing must adopt a similar method. All the forces of the mind must be mobilised at the point of stress. Sometimes the cause of their breakdown is this lack of mental mobilisation, this inability to bring all the powers of the mind to bear upon a crisis or a grief, or a difficult situation. Hence, chaos in the nervous machine. Through lack of training, maybe, or carelessness as to their mental habits, disaster both to health and position overtakes them. The remedy is to attend to things, as indicated. When a measure of facility has been acquired, concentra- tion is in sight, and mental control saves the situ- ation. The immediate problem for those suffering from nervous breakdown is commonly the problem of how to concentrate on a book, or an argument, or a lec- ture or sermon, and especially upon some critical crisis in their own lives. Their difficulty is ina- bility to mobilise their nervous and mental energies at a given point, and at will. Finding this beyond their power, they are apt to give up, and to let 106 Nerves and the Man ■ things drift. To do so, of course, is to be defeated. This is not the solution of the difficulty but the sur- render to it. It is handing over the key of life into the hands of death. Therefore, in addition to what has been said on attention, we submit the following exercises on concentration, which is really the in- tensive development of the power of attention as applied more especially to ideas and lines of thought. (a) First, make up and repeat, backwards and forwards, lists of words connected together by as- sociation. For example, chair, comfort, health, seaside, tourist, Thos. Cook & Sons, Continent, Paris, League of Nations, and so on. Here is a list or chain of words which may be extended to any length. Each word is connected in the chain by as- sociation. By such a simple means many ideas may be held by the mind quite easily. It is the mental effort involved in the linking up of these words that is important. Such exercises not only imply control of the mind, but they help, at the same time, to strengthen the nerve centres and to brace up the mental faculties. Professor Blackie speaks, in his delightful little book on "Self-Culture," of the "binding power of the mind, which is necessary for all sorts of reason- ing, and teaches the inexperienced really to know what necessary dependence, unavoidable sequence, or pure causality means." Such exercises as the one suggested will help in this respect. Price lists, shop- ping lists, heads of lectures and sermons, each and V Mental Control 107 all may be treated in this way. As an aid to mem- ory, the habit is invaluable, whilst as discipline for the mind it is essential to the possession of any men- tal power worthy of the name. (b) Take a paragraph from Ruskin, or a short passage from Milton or Shakespeare. Get at the idea or ideas in such passages quite clearly, and then express them in your own words. As a beginning, simple passages may be selected, in which the ideas and connections are fairly easy to grasp. Then, take passages a little more difficult, treating them similarly. After a time it may be well to select a few passages from Browning's "Saul" or the "Ring and the Book," extracting their hidden meaning, and expressing it again in your own way. For those who may find this somewhat beyond them, pas- sages from Longfellow or Tennyson or from Scrip- ture, or even from nursery rhymes, may be utilised. In each case, a demand will be made upon sustained mental effort, and the response to that demand is the all-important thing. (c) If one is fond of music, and people with a temperament mostly are, it is an excellent exercise to listen carefully to a piece of good pianoforte music. Note carefully the groundwork. It is not infreqently as interesting and pleasing as the mel- ody or the singing element in the composition. Fur- ther, try and find out the phrase or passage upon which the entire composition is built. Keen, sus- tained attention will very often reveal to you the 108 Nerves and the Man motif of the piece. In other words, try and find out the text or the theme which inspired the com- poser in writing it. (d) Get some one to play a few bars of music to you, a short passage having rhythm and melody in it. Then try and recall the entire passage, after an interval of ten minutes or half an hour. Begin with short, simple passages and, as you gain mas- tery, let them be longer and more complex. The advantage of this exercise is that it may, being an appeal to the feelings as well as the thought, relieve the strain in the mental effort. At any rate, it gives variety to one's concentration efforts. (e) The writer has found it to be a capital ex- ercise to try and revive some particularly interest- ing chapter in one's life. Circumstances forced him some years ago to go abroad for some time. The experience was so unique and so interesting that it stands apart as one of the minor chapters in his life. The incident, however, has been lived over and over again, and has been a source of refreshment during many of the shadowed hours of his life. His method has been the following. Beginning with the moment of leaving home, and following each point in the journey, outwards and homewards, he has many a time been able to reproduce, in wonder- ful detail, the entire incident. In this way, through practice and concentration, he has found in the mind a moving picture more animating and more living than the most interesting cinematograph. Mental Control 109 Thus, sufficient has been said to indicate the lines along which we may win mental control by means of concentration. There are endless varieties of possible exercises, and the more we can devise such for ourselves the better. The important thing is to bear in mind that discipline there must be, if the mind is to be our servant and not our master. Es- pecially is discipline necessary where nerve strain is present. Thought and nerve cells do not exist apart from each other. What the precise relation is, is one of the mysteries. What is certain, however, is that they act and react upon each other, and that mental discipline is as necessary to the body as bodily exercise is to the mind. Therefore, let the mind, no less than the body, be duly exercised. In no other way is it possible to win the crown of life, which is "mens sana in corpore sano." PRACTICAL HINTS 1. Accustom yourself to check the mind's tendency to- wards empty and aimless wandering. Keep the reins of the mind firmly in hand. 2. When confusion attends the effort of sustained con- centration, give the mind a rest, and resume the effort later. 3. Harm may be done by forcing the mind beyond its strength. Therefore do not concentrate to such an extent as to dim consciousness itself. 4. In nervous cases especially, better attempt frequent and easy acts of concentration than long and difficult ones. More ambitious efforts may be attempted later. 5". When concentration is hard, if not impossible, do not 110 Nerves and the Man I' I, lose hope and confidence, but remind yourself that the ulti- mate cause is illness of the nerve centres, and that renewed health is possible and likely. 6. The secret of the recovery of the power of concentra- tion lies in making small efforts each day, and not big efforts spasmodically. 7. It is wise to find out which part of the day is most conducive to the practice of concentration. In most cases, it is unwise to make serious efforts late at night. 8. When attempts are made to concentrate, they should be done with a will. The test should be not how long, but how thorough. CHAPTER XIII POISE AND SERENITY One of the inevitable signs of nervous breakdown is lack of poise and serenity. Usually, this lack of poise has a threefold origin. It is partly physical, partly mental, and partly moral or spiritual. When the nervous system is out of order, when the men- tal faculties are not under control, and when the spirit itself is torn by conflict between inclination and duty, it is then that one's balance is upset, and a serene and tranquil spirit is far from us. l. But what is poise"? The question needs to be put and answered if poise is to be recovered or cultivated. In general terms, poise is that condi- tion of body, mind, and spirit which ensues when nerves, mental faculties and spirit are at one, each in harmony with itself, and with each other. It is the repose which results from the sovereignty of the will in the totality of one's life. It is govern- ment in, and captaincy of the soul. In one form or other, poise is found in Nature, art, and mechanics, as it is found in morals and re- ligion. In art, it is called proportion. In mechan- ics, it is called equilibrium. In morals, it has been in 112 Nerves and the Man called repose; whilst in religion it is called the "peace which passeth understanding." It is the re- sult of rule, order, harmony. "Our lives are songs, God writes the words, And we set them to music at leisure, And the song is sad or the song is glad As we choose to fashion the measure." That is to say, there must be self -conquest, and that not merely in one department of our being, but in each and all. "Self-reverence, self-knowl- edge, self-control; these three alone lead life to sov- ereign power." "Nerves," lack of concentration, fear, timidity, these, along with the dark brood of ills which follow in their train, can only be over- come as the will suggests, directs, and controls those movements, feelings, thoughts and moods to which those suffering from nervous breakdown are in tem- porary bondage. A simple illustration of poise is seen in the spin- ning-top. It is the embodiment of poise. It has symmetry and balance. It gravitates upon and around a point so fine as to reduce friction to a mini- mum. It is when in movement a capital example of rest in motion. When its poise is perfect, it hums or sings. Such is poise. The body and mind, also, which work, and yet are at rest, are in the state of poise, and it is this restful working of the whole man or woman which somehow must be at- Poise and Serenity 113 tained, more or less, if the nervous system is to work smoothly and perfectly. 2. Dealing with first things first, it is clear that poise is conditioned, at the very outset, by physical control. Elementary as it may seem, attention must be paid especially to the muscular movements of the body, because, in nerve trouble, it is here that breakdown is apt to reveal itself first. The mus- cles of the face, and of the limbs especially, have broken loose, and there can be little poise or self- possession until these are once more brought under control. (a) We cannot do better than to begin with con- trol of the eye. Most of us know how difficult it often is to look firmly and frankly into the eyes of another. But when, through practice, we develop the power, it is surprising how it steadies us, and gives us self-possession. In such practice we must not stare, and so confuse those at whom we are looking. What should be aimed at is the fearless look, which has behind it the kindly heart, and which is free from antagonism. When speaking to individuals or to audiences, look straight at those addressed, and do it at once. In this way one may forestall fear, and undermine self -consciousness, putting oneself and one's fellows at ease. Once you can look people in the face speech is easier, and the flow of thought is freer. Hence, the nervous energy expended is not as costly 114 Nerves and the Man as when, through timidity, you fail to do this nat- ural thing. Then, we should fight against being overpowered by a look. After all, "a cat may look at a king," and the moment we surrender our right to look a man in the face, we have succumbed to a more domi- nating, if not superior, personality. One has often noticed a man, lacking in will-power, coming out of a wordy contest defeated, not because he has had the worst of the argument, but because his opponent looked him out of countenance. A superior force has so overshadowed him that he failed to make the best of his case. Whilst cultivating the power of controlling the eye, therefore, we must resist the domination of those who would exercise undue influence over us. And this must be done, not in the spirit of defiance or antagonism, but in the spirit of self-respect and sincerity. (£) Next, we must aim at control of the voice; because here lies part of the secret of poise. We should endeavour to speak slowly, firmly, clearly and softly. This habit is of great importance for those with whom we are especially dealing. It gives pleasure to the listener, and it gives assurance and poise to the speaker. Moreover, it means a regu- lar and economical use of the nervous energies. In many cases, the voice is the hole in the pocket of a man's nervous resources. Owing to rapid or hasty or highly pitched words, the emotions are let loose Poise and Serenity 115 and passion and anger, like torrents, have the nerv- ous forces at their mercy. The value of voice control is seen, not only as an inducement to poise, but also as a nerve restora- tive, when we realise that it means control of the breath. When we speak calmly and deliberately, the breathing apparatus works naturally and smoothly. Thus we are freed from the strain and waste which accompany that gasping irregularity which is the inevitable consequence of rapid, un- measured, and uncontrolled speech. The whole art of phrasing, whether we think of it in relation to speech or song, is really nothing more nor less than the natural control of the voice. It is simply the art of not forcing one's words, and of working within one's limitations. And to work within one's limitations is a large part of the philosophy of re- pose. (c) Further, we must exercise control over our facial expressions, as these again do much to mar or make the spirit of poise. The face is largely the mirror of the soul. Every emotion we feel is re- flected more or less in the face. It is no less true, however, that control of the face has much to do with the control of the feelings, and, since nerve control is to a great extent emotional control, it is important that the emotions should be held in check by the control of the facial muscles. For example, we can and should acquire the habit of wearing an unruffled brow. Our nervous troubles are intensi- 116 Nerves and the Man ■ " fied to the extent that we carry about with us the anxious tensed look. From time to time we should deliberately slacken the muscles of the face, espe- cially those located in the forehead and near the eyes. A simple experiment will convince us that, by this means, relief is felt, and a certain amount of com- posure secured. We must do what we can to "tone ourselves down," and not to allow the face to be victimised by the thousand and one agitations which perpetu- ally harass the minds of those whose nerves are on edge. To check the frown under annoyance, de- liberately to smile under provocation, to hold the facial muscles firmly when moved to tears, to pre- vent the face from "dropping" when in the pres- ence of grief or sorrow, in these and other practical ways, much may be done not only to moderate the riot of one's emotional life, but also to foster and maintain calm and self-possession. (d) Yet again, we must keep our limbs under control. Watch the movements of any one labour- ing under excitability or shyness or fear, and it will be noticed how completely the body is subservient to the storms of emotional excitement. The eyes start, the hands are clenched, hands and arms are thrown about, and the general pose of the body upset. All this means but adding fuel to the fire. The one thing necessary, under great excitement, is to keep control of the body, and so to allow our Poise and Serenity 117 inflamed feelings to evaporate in decency and in order. Who has not found that when entering a room, where there are several or many people, he is more collected if, when asked to be seated, he does so de- liberately and easily? To do this hurriedly or awk- wardly, to slide on to the chair, instead of sitting upon it squarely and firmly, this is the way to in- crease our confusion and to intensify our timidity. The easy carriage and control of the body, in such and other like circumstances, reflects itself in the mind, and contributes to the state of poise and self- possession. It may be said that such attention to physical con- trol as we have set forth may itself lead to self-con- sciousness, and so to make a state of poise impos- sible. This may be so, to some extent, at first. After attention and training, however, control be- comes habit and habit becomes unconscious. 3. But now, important as physical control is, as a condition of poise and serenity, the control of the mind is still more important. And perhaps we can- not do better than to deal briefly with some of the common ways in which lack of control over the mind exhibits itself. In this way practical hints may be thrown out, and definite counsels given. (a) Foremost among the signs of poor control of the mind is self-consciousness. This is a weak- ness to which multitudes are subject. It exists, however, in a very pronounced form in victims to 118 Nerves and the Man nerves, but in each and every case it is the foe of poise and composure. To a large extent, poise, like good health, is an unconscious state. In self-con- sciousness the eyes have become inverted, the mind watches its own movements, and, when those move- ments are marred and upset, through nervous trouble, it looks upon a pitiable sight. Perhaps it is when in company that self -conscious- ness most commonly reveals itself. Generally speak- ing, it is due to the fear that people may be look- ing at us, or to the fear that they may be talking about us. It may be due to simple timidity, or shyness. Sometimes the kind of company we find ourselves in explains our self -consciousness, while the cause may be in lowness of tone, or uncertainty as to our welcome. We are convinced that a common and underlying cause of self-consciousness is lack of mental grip. When we are not certain of detail, relating to any subject that may arise in company, when we find that we cannot relate incidents and events accurately and clearly, and that our recollection is fitful and unreliable, these weaknesses destroy our confidence in ourselves, and heap increasing confusion upon the mind. Hence, self-consciousness. But what is to be done if one would overcome this weakness and attain reasonable repose and com- posure 4 ? We cannot do better than say: "Be your- self." Don't try to appear to be what you are not. Remember that to listen is an art no less than to Poise and Serenity 119 talk. Often nervous people are distressed because they cannot talk freely upon any or every topic raised. The fact is, there are mostly those, in al- most any company, who feel qualified to do so, and you may always please them and reassure yourself by listening attentively and, if possible, sympa- thetically. Then, it is a wholesome thing to remind ourselves that we are not as important as our self-consciousness implies. People are not waiting to look at us, or to talk about us. Provided our bearing and behaviour are normal, the glances to which we are subject do not necessarily mean the interest and curiosity we imagine. Besides, there are but the smallest grounds for supposing that people are talking about us, in the sense that they are criticising us. People are, usually, no better and no worse than ourselves, and we may safely assume that what we are to others that they are to us. In entering company, therefore, the first thing to do is to feel kindly, and to assume a like kindliness in those whom we meet.' The next thing is to be frank and sincere, looking people in the face, and moving in a calm and leisurely manner. It is a good thing to make yourself thoroughly acquainted with the outstanding events and topics of the day. If one's ordinary reading and observa- tion are thorough and exact, we have many oppor- tunities, in the company of others, when we can make our contribution to the general conversation, 120 Nerves and the Man and so enormously increase our self -confidence and repose. In order to get accustomed to the sound of one's own voice, it is well to practise reading and thinking aloud. To hold an imaginary conversation with some one, to address an imaginary audience, telling it a good story or describing something you have heard or seen, this is a capital means of getting accustomed to your own voice, and so enormously increasing your social self-confidence. The great thing is to get thoroughly at home with yourself, to have yourself under easy control, and so, to be rescued from fear, that arch-foe of the mind, and that unsleeping enemy of calm and poise. (b) Speaking generally, fear is not only the sign of poor self-control. It also inevitably means serious mental disturbance, and lack of poise and confidence. It is more common than one might suppose. Behind the masked lives, which so many live, there are fears, real and imaginary, such as make mental poise and inward repose impossible. Fear of failure, fear of want, fear of ill-health, and fear of the unknown future, these and many others are the ghosts £hat haunt the mind, and make the mind itself a place of unrest instead of a house of quiet. Now, the first thing to be done with our fears is to face them. Usually, they are spectres of the mind, having little basis in fact or reality. Don't run away from the thing that affrights you. Tear Poise and Serenity 121 the veil from its face, and see it for what it actually is. ^ It is instructive to remember that fear and dark- ness often go together. This is especially so with children. Owing to the absence of light, in which our judgments are mostly formed, the imagination usurps the place of reason. Hence, fear is bom, and poise and composure are destroyed. Light, then, is the secret of how to destroy our fears, the light of reason, the light of experience, and, above all, the light of faith and trust in the ultimate love and goodness of things. Fear is doubt and despair. It must be fought with belief and hope and love. All the psychological analysis and suggestion in the world are valueless apart from this simple and restful attitude of the mind, this trustful faith in the sanity and essential good- ness of life. He is kept in poise and repose whose mind rests upon Him in whom we live and move and have our being. "He holds no parley with unmanly fears; Where duty bids, he confidently steers; Faces a thousand dangers at her call And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all." (r) Then, a common form of poor self-control is , excessive modesty. Where this exists, there is in- . ward disturbance and, consequently, a lack of repose. It is easily possible to know ourselves so little as to underestimate ourselves. Whilst it is true that 122 Nerves and the Man we ought not to think too highly of ourselves, it is equally true that we ought not to think too lowly of ourselves. Confidence and poise are the fruits of a sense of power, and to shut our eyes to our own qualities and abilities is to undermine the very foundations of a calm and poised mind. Self-control is con- ditioned by self-reverence, and we do ourselves wrong when, through undue modesty, we unfit our- selves for responsibility, and, at the same time, rob ourselves of the composure which comes from a sense of personal worth and power. We must, therefore, cultivate a healthy faith in ourselves. We must accustom the mind to think positively, to say "I can" and not "I cannot." We must learn to welcome responsibility, to trust in our own judgment, and generally to keep the helm of our lives in our own hands. Nothing can be worse, for those with whom we are dealing, than to be always depreciating themselves, and to be constantly talking about their weaknesses and failures. Weak- nesses we all have, and mistakes and failures we all make. But these should not be clogs upon the mind, holding us back and bidding us take the lower seats; they should be stepping-stones inviting on to higher and better things: for it is conquest and achieve- ment, more than anything else, which steadies the mind, and gives it a sense of calm and repose. (d) It has been pointed out recently by an emi- nent physchologist that, quite commonly, in cases Poise and Serenity 123 of nervous breakdown there is a sense of inferiority which accounts for many of the ills to which neuras- thenics are subject. He says that this sense of in- feriority is traceable to some organic defect. What- ever be the cause, however, there can be no doubt that this feeling of inferiority is common, and that it does much to rob the mind of mental poise. Here, it seems to us, we have the explanation of certain qualities and tendencies in the class with whom we are dealing. For example, those suffering from nerve troubles and a sense of inferiority are extremely sensitive to praise or blame: they have almost a mania for punctuality, and they have a horror of being caught "napping." Furthermore, in games of contest, as in competition generally, there is present an almost morbid fear of being beaten or outclassed. The result is that the general tension under which such people live is wasteful in the extreme. They rush through life in a chronic state of haste, and fear, and breathlessness, giving themselves no chance to be at leisure from them- selves, and inevitably destroying the very conditions of mental poise and inward calm. Now, all this must be corrected. It will help us if we remember that inferiority and superiority de- pend upon standards. Comparison can only be made among things which are alike, and, since no two human beings are fundamentally alike, there can really be no true standard of comparison. Let us be ourselves, therefore, perfectly natural, and 124 Nerves and the Man perfectly unconcerned as to the common judgment, and in this way we shall rise above all comparisons, and so enter into peace. These, then, are a few of the usual forms in which lack of self-control reveals itself, and which are the causes of the absence of poise — self -conscious- ness, fear, extreme modesty, and a sense of inferior- ity. There are others, but under these four headings may be classed most of the weaknesses which pre- vent the mind from being at rest, and which hinder that inward calm which is essential to nervous and mental health. 4. As to moral control, as a condition of mental poise and general serenity, much more can be said than these pages allow. Time after time the writer has met cases in which worry and anxiety, doubt and fear, restlessness and self -dissatisfaction, are the direct results of breaches of the moral law. We are convinced that a large amount of the nervous wreckage in the world is due to moral laxity. We cannot flout our ideals and be at peace. One cannot ignore his conscience and, at the same time, be inwardly serene. Especially is this true of those under consideration. They, above all, must "go straight" if they are to live calm, confident and balanced lives. Purity, sincerity, honesty, and gen- eral uprightness, these are the pillars of the temple of poise. Psychology is a great science. It is becoming increasingly important. But we are convinced that Poise and Serenity 125 the problems involved in man's mental and moral life are not such as can be solved only along psycho- logical lines. Psychology needs supplementing by religion. It may or may not need the crude state- ments commonly associated with religion to-day. But it does need faith in the ultimate and the un- seen, such as eases the strain of living, and such as generates hope and gives promise of a new and better day. Physical control, mental control, and moral control, each plays its part in restoring and main- taining the nervous system, in yielding inward re- pose, and in bringing back the light of hope and cheer to those living in the valley of shadows. But let it not be forgotten that there is something more, and that something is the bowing down of the spirit to the highest, the holiest, and the best that we know. PRACTICAL HINTS 1. Be natural. Don't pose or try to make an impression. The impression you make upon people is often not the one you intended. 2. Forget yourself by being interested in those about you. 3. Don't assume that because people are looking at you they are talking about you. Probably they are talking about themselves. 4. Avoid the subject of your nerves, as a topic of con- versation. It is the way to increase your trouble. 5. Whilst not praising yourself in company, abstain from depreciating yourself. 126 Nerves and the Man 6. When entering a room look at one person only, and do not look at the face until you have collected yourself. 7. Pay visits to your friends, especially to those whose homes are simple, and who have few callers. 8. Fix the length of your calls, and do not stay beyond the time. 9. Think of topics for conversation before making your calls. 10. Beware of being opinionated. It tends to confusion, both in yourself and in others. 11. Speak slowly, and let your sentences be fairly short. 12. Admiration has a steadying influence upon the mind. Therefore, say appreciative things to people, and of people, and don't be afraid of admiring qualities and things other than your own. CHAPTER XIV CHEERFULNESS Speaking of those afflicted with nerve trouble, Pro- fessor William James says they are like a bicycle the chain of which is too tight. As a result the movements of the mind are so strained that the most wasteful friction is the result. Their need is nervous and mental relaxation. The chain of the machine must be slackened if the friction is to be reduced, and if it is to run freely and smoothly. Now, the habit of cheerfulness is one of the best means of loosening the chain. Cheerfulness acts upon the nervous system as a lubricant acts upon the machine. Depression, gloom, or what is com- monly called the "blues," must be fought, but they must be fought in a positive way. It is possible to see the bright side of things rather than the dark. This is especially so in cases where depression is due to low nervous vitality, because, in these cases, there is commonly little or no solid ground for their depression. Bunyan knew something of the trouble we are dealing with when he said that Giant Despair "some- times in sunshiny weather fell into fits." Now, 127 128 Nerves and the Man cheerfulness acts upon depression as the sunshine acted upon Giant Despair. It renders it powerless. It alters the attitude of the mind. It induces the upward and outward gaze as opposed to the down- ward and the inward. The bright, cheerful, opti- mistic mood has a direct influence on the nervous system. Indeed, it plays a most important part in its restoration and maintenance. A writer in the Lancet said some time ago that "mental influences affect the system; and a joyous spirit not only relieves pain but increases the mo- mentum of life in the body." The simple fact is that the great sympathetic nerves are closely con- nected. When one set carries bad news to the brain, the nerves which regulate the digestive organs are at once affected, with the result that indigestion is set up, and, following that, inevitable depression and low spirits. Speaking from considerable experience the writer knows that, in cases of nervous breakdown, it is not often that the victim is heard to laugh or ever smile with anything like radiance. For days he or she will move in and out amongst family and friends, and never a bright remark or the shadow of a pleasantry is made. Even when something amusing is said, something which brings light into the eyes, and good feeling into the hearts of normal beings, it passes such people by, leaving them passive and un- moved. Instead of yielding to humour, they pre- serve a stolid countenance as if afraid to let them- Cheerfulness 129 selves go and to become one with their kind. Whilst all the time their first and pressing need is a kind of nervous or mental explosion, such as breaks through the blocked-up passages of the nerve cur- rents, and such as a hearty laugh or a broad smile alone can induce. We are convinced that to the extent to which we can bring the spirit of good humour, the spirit mirth, to bear upon our depressed moods and our low states of mind, to that extent shall we be happier and stronger, and to that extent also shall we regain a normal and healthy nervous condition. But now, it is not sufficient to tell the man who is depressed that he must be cheerful. It is just what, for the time being, he cannot be. He must be told how to be cheerful, and so we submit the following counsels to such as may be living, perhaps without protest, in the shadowland of nervous breakdown : — First. — It is necessary to say, with emphasis, that the will itself must be summoned to our aid; coun- sels are vain unless the mind accepts them and wills them. We must desire and will to be cheerful or all the advice in the world is useless. In the last analysis the victim must come to his own rescue, and he can. No one is ever called to consent to a state of evil. The moment the evil is recognised, that moment the man in us stands up in protest. It is so in these distressing nervous disorders. We can do what we ought to do, and since we ought to 130 Nerves and the Man fight the spectres of the mind, we have within us the resources necessary for victory. As Henry Drummond used to say, "All nature is on the side of the man who tries to rise." Nature within and without comes to our aid when we rise in protest against ill-health, and the troubles we are dealing with are due to ill-health more than to anything else. Frequently, indeed mostly, the matter is not looked at in this way. Depression is accepted. In many cases, it almost seems as if it is enjoyed. There is a tendency to find a kind of false happiness in being miserable. People nurse their depression, and so keep it alive. They are like the White Knight who carried a mouse trap with him, wherever he went, lest he should be plagued with mice. That is to say, they give place to thoughts and unpleasant pos- sibilities which have no right to any place in the mind. In short, they allow the mind to drift until it becomes the sport and plaything of endless fan- cies and emotions which breed like weeds in a highly strung and disordered nervous temperament. The first need then is protest. We must will to be cheerful. And we shall find this easier if we re- member that to will to be cheerful is to will to be natural. For cheerfulness is natural to the healthy mind. John Ruskin assures us of this. "Cheerful- ness," he says, "is as natural to the heart of a man, in strong health, as colour is to his cheek. And whenever there is habitual gloom there must be either bad air, unwholesome food, or erring habits Cheerfulness 131 of life." Let us be natural then, and cheerfulness will soon put an end to our gloom and depression. Second. — We must acquire the habit of definitely thinking cheerful and staying thoughts. Two thoughts cannot occupy the mind at the same time. Commonly enough, the dark thought is in occupa- tion because the door of the mind was left open to any passing tramp. Further, not infrequently, de- pression is not so much the result of definite dark thoughts as of sheer vacancy. The "blues" are often the result of empty shadows, and shadows are not positive; they are simply absence of light. So that to accustom oneself to give room in the mind to bright thoughts and feelings is to close the door upon many of the ghosts which harass and disturb us. The great Christian pioneer, St. Paul, saw the wisdom of bright and beautiful thoughts when he wrote advising people to think in such a way as to leave no room in the mind for dark or unworthy thoughts — "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, what- soever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, think on these things." And that is largely the secret of a bright and sunny mind. When a room is dark and unoccupied it becomes the haunt of all kinds of creeping things. But when the blinds are drawn, the windows opened, and it is really occupied, then it becomes a place of warmth and cheer and comfort. It is even so with the mind. 132 Nerves and the Man It must be occupied, and it is our duty, as it ought to be our pleasure, to occupy it with thoughts and images and ideals such as can keep us human, and at the same time fit us for the exhilarating though strenuous thing we call life. Third. — Cheerfulness must be cultivated and maintained by reading cheerful books, and thus, as in other ways, keeping in touch with cheerful people. This needs saying, since observation has shown us that in nerve trouble there is an opposite tendency. The mind is prone to seek refuge in books and teach- ings which, when not psychological, border on what is called the occult. The fact is, any books or teach- ings which tend to turn the mind in upon itself are bad, especially in cases such as those under con- sideration. One's reading should be bright and healthy. It should be warm, human, and written by those whose outlook on life is kindly and believing. Pessimism and all its ways must be shunned, and a persistent effort made to see and feel the gleam and glow of life as reflected in the lives of the best and happiest in our midst. If the writer were asked which of our modern writers has done most, in his own case, to foster the spirit of hope and cheerfulness, he would say with- out hesitation, Robert Louis Stevenson. Stevenson had the gift of good temper. He was light-hearted, without being shallow. He was an optimist, a "rea- sonable optimist," when the circumstances of his Cheerfulness 133 life might easily have driven him into pessimism. John Kelman says of him, "when all was dark he pointed his telescope right into the blackness, and found a star." It is such people who generate hope and good cheer, and it is the fellowship of such souls which is one of the surest and best means of dissi- pating the gloom and sadness which are among the last infirmities of those in bondage to nervous breakdown. There are great riches in store for those unac- quainted with R. L. S., whilst those who are intimate with him will know what buoyancy and radiance mark most of his work. From one point of view, those who have not read "Treasure Island," "Vir- ginibus Puerisque," "Travels with a Donkey," "The Child's Garden of Verses," and the "Vailima Let- ters," are to be envied. They are written in sun- light, and to be intimate with them is to have a haven of refuge in the darkest hour and in the gloomiest of moods. It would be unwise to attempt to give a list, either of books or authors, best calculated to engender the spirit of cheerfulness. All that needs saying here is that one's reading should be healthy, whole- some and uplifting. One should flee the Omar Khayyam spirit as he would flee the plague, and, of most modern writers of ncition, the least helpful, for the class with whom we are dealing, is Thomas Hardy, who has been called the "Master-pessimist of our time." 134 Nerves and the Man For those to whom these pages are particularly addressed, a little book like "The Diary of a No- body,'*' by George and Weedon Grossmith, is worth all that Hardy and his school ever wrote. We are not now thinking of literary values. We are think- ing of the effect of our reading upon our moods, those moods which are the offspring of an impover- ished nervous system. Mr. Birrell, writing a prefa- tory note to "'The Diary of a Nobody,'' says, "I do not remember who first bade me read 'The Diary of a Nobody.'" the early version of which in Punch I had strangely overlooked. It must have been done in casual conversation. But what a casualty ! I dare not tell you my view of 'Charles Pooter.' I rank him with Don Quixote." This leads us to remark that Punch is a real tonic in hours of gloom. It should be read with zest, and its good things repeated. It is advisable also to make notes of humorous stories and funny illustra- tions. When a good thing is heard or an amusing thing seen it should be passed on, as soon as possible. In these and other ways the mind, should be kept from settling down into melancholy, and the atten- tion occupied lightly and pleasantly. After all, one of the best uses of reading is that it heartens us for the great task of living. Mr. Bal- four, speaking some time ago at a gathering of lit- erary folk, proposing the toast to literature, said that "he drank not merely to literature, but to that literature in particular which serves the great cause Cheerfulness 135 7 of cheering us up." It is indeed a great cause, and none know better how great it is than those whose minds are clouded and whose hearts are depressed as a result of nerve troubles resulting from abnormal pressure and strain. Fourth. — Those to whom we are speaking should remember that sunshine is not constant. It is true that the sun is a great fixed central light, but its appearance to men everywhere is a variable quantity. It would never do to be ever in the sunlight. We need the darkness and the light. Each is good in its time. The same thing is true of life in general. In the very nature of things, we could not be always in a positively cheerful mood. Darkness and shadows have their uses, and a life of unbroken and perpetual sunshine and ease would be a poor sort of thing. It is necessary, therefore, that those who are victims to nerves, as all others, should bear in mind that life is discipline, whatever else it is or is not, and that man is not what he is designed to be. Hence, shadow and shine, rough and smooth, fair weather and foul, each has its place and use, and we must learn to take things as they come, and not appraise them simply according to our own feelings and inclinations. We must learn to have moderate expectations of life. To get the most and best out of it, one must react upon it, breasting and tossing aside life's ex- periences as the swimmer breasts and tosses aside 136 Nerves and the Man the waves of the sea. Indeed, the secret of the cheerful mind, when cheerfulness is rightly based, is as much associated with what is difficult in life as what is easy and agreeable. It is the triumph over difficulties, and not the being sheltered from them, that brings light into the eyes and movement into the heart. "Sick or well," wrote R. L. S., "I have had a splendid time of it, grudge nothing, regret very little." In short, the cheerful mind and the contented spirit are not found in escape from life, but somehow in the very midst of it. This much it is necessary to say on this point, as quite frequently we have noticed that the neuras- thenic is given to talk about, and look at things, as if life should be arranged for his comfort and not for his good. It is not so. In the great scheme of things in the midst of which we live, our good is primary, our comfort is secondary. Still there is comfort enough, and however difficult life may be at times, there is usually room for a happy and cheerful spirit. "Upon the shadow of the sea The sunset broods regretfully; From the far lonely spaces, slow Withdraws the wistful afterglow. So out of life the splendour dies: So darken all the happy skies: So gathers twilight, cold and stern: But overhead the planets burn. And up the East another day Shall chase the bitter dark away: Cheerfulness 137 What though our eyes with tears be wet! The sunrise never failed us yet. The blush of dawn may yet restore Our light and hope and joy once more: Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget The sunrise never failed us yet." Finally. — Over and above everything that can be said psychologically as to ways and means of how to escape depression, and how to be cheerful, there is, for most of us, the ultimate question of religion. Out of the heart are the issues of life, and cheerfulness cannot issue from a source which has not in itself the conditions upon which a really cheerful mind is based. For, by cheerfulness, we do not mean mere light-heartedness, the state of mind which ripples because it is shallow. By cheer- fulness we mean that happy condition of mind which, whilst seeing all the facts of life, holds firmly to the conviction that the meaning and end of all things is universally and eternally good. Some one has remarked that the tragedy and mystery of life are such that, without faith in a loving and Beneficent Being, a cheerful mind is im- possible. Certainly, there is so much amiss in us and around us that unless one believes that good is the final goal of ill, there is room for serious doubt as to whether life is, for the thoughtful man, such as warrants a philosophy of cheerfulness. Granted, however, that life is in the making, that all the pains and sorrows of existence are "but for a mo- 13S Nerves and ti ment" and that a " weight of glory 5 ' is to crown all life's evils, then, it is a joy to be alive, and cheer- fulness becomes us all. *Then welcome each rebuff Tii: :.::.! ziriz's s~ :::.;...-. es.s r:_x: Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand bat go! Be our joy three parts pain! S:r.-z 2z.i :.:'.l z:.ziz 11* r.:is. Learn, nor account i:.r zi.r..z r.fvt: rr-irt i:.e ::.:: t "' — R. Bkomnm. Speaking from a wide experience, in cases of ner- ,--,..- '-'-- ---. - - - : : -■ :- ■ . _; t:. .....T ■■■... z. ..-: ... -...t_ ..._... .... ....■ T- „. " ;,.■ . ; ••• ._. .i.. . ~. .'. . _ . . _;_ .. — :t- o: cares i:: w;r::es. ire nervous svsterr. oreaks down under the strain, since it lacks the comforts and consolations of faith and hope, By aD means, therefore, let us hold rift to the faith that lift .5 ordered for our :■:•::. if we ■• ull. and that the era. hard as mar seem the means, will ultimate'. 7 vindi- cate the v-ts c: God to rarer.. It is as we are ::r- as that we work in fellowship with the Divine, that the strain of life is relieved, and cheerfulness becomes the natural condition of the mind. It is thus that laboui becomes rest, the spirit 0: toil is redeemed. and we fur a the heart exaltara: — 'O. :: :e ■_: :~.: :: ...t i -?v L S. Cheerfulness 139 Cheerfulness comes as a matter of course to some people. It is their temperament, and they are happy in that they need not think about it. But for some of us it is difficult, and sometimes impossible. And yet, somehow, we have to learn the art; for, as long as we live in the land of shadows and depression, we are not ourselves, and we are not efficient. The duties and tasks imposed upon us demand a cheerful spirit, if they are to be faithfully undertaken and thoroughly performed. Self-control, the habit of cheerful thoughts, cheerful books and cheerful peo- ple, a balanced view of life, and a simple Faith, it is along these lines, we feel sure, that a cheerful spirit and a contented mind are to be found. CHAPTER XV LAUGHTER "And when did you have a good hearty laugh last?" the writer inquired some time ago of one of those victims to nerves, so many of whom one meets from time to time. "It is so long ago that I have forgotten," was the reply. It is a very common experience. Indeed, it is so common that one might almost deduce the principle that the lower the ner- vous vitality the less the inclination for mirth and laughter. Whilst it is true that, often, the disin- clination for laughter is largely the result of the ills we are dealing with, it is no less true that laughter itself is a sure means of relieving, if not mitigating, the trouble. We shall appreciate this better if we look briefly at the origin and nature of laughter. l. Physiol ogicallj- speaking, laughter is partly the involuntary movement of the muscles of the lips and of the face, resulting in a succession of abrupt sounds such as the sound "ha!" Laughter is expression, the giving vent to stored-up emotion. It is the outward sign of certain emotions, indicating pleasure or satisfaction. If the sound "ha!" is re- 140 Laughter 141 peated many times, quick expulsions of breath take place, the chest and diaphragm undergoing spas- modic contractions, and the whole movement issuing in what we sometimes call "a peal of laughter." Originally, and in primitive man, the exclamation "ha!" was probably an expression of satisfaction, either at triumph over an enemy or at achievement in the field or in the chase. "Perhaps," says Pro- fessor Sully, "the first great laugh was produced by man, or his proximate progenitor, when relief came after fear and the strain of battle." It looks, there- fore, as if satisfaction and relief were associated from the beginning, and laughter is just that to-day. The bearing of laughter upon nerve trouble is thus immediately perceived. It is seen to be one of the best means of easing and even correcting some of its worst and most distressing manifestations. The movement of the facial muscles, the exercise of the lungs, and the emotional relief resulting from these, all this, it is clear, is precisely what is needed by those who are victims to the disability under con- sideration. We can all recall the intense nervous strain that was upon us in 1918, when the war was at its ugliest and most tragic stage. The daily story of the grimy and unspeakable sufferings of our soldiers, and the awful suspense under which we laboured and waited, hoping and hoping for the turn of the slowly moving tide of events. What a relief it was to read our Punch and laugh! When we turned over its re- 142 Nerves and the Man freshing pages, and read such as the following, we laughed and were, for the moment, whole again: — "Cheerful One (to a newcomer, on being asked what the trenches are like), 'If yer stands up, yer get sniped ; if yer keeps down, yer gets drowned ; if yer moves, yer gets shelled; and if yer stands still, yer gets court-marshalled for frost-bite.' " Many of the funny things reported to have been said or done by the British soldier, of course, never actually hap- pened. But the times demanded that they should happen, and happen they did to all intents and pur- poses. The result was expression and relaxation. That laughter is a positive relief from physical strain may be seen in the case of the little child. Most of us have looked on with delight at the child's first attempt in the perilous art of walking. We have noted the strained, tensed look of the child, before making its first plunge into the un- known, before taking that hazardous march from the chair to its mother's knee. Was there ever a more thrilling adventure? The attention of the child is strained. Its face is set, as if for some grim struggle. The muscles of the face are taut. The whole body is keyed up for this first supreme under- taking, and the child, and we, tremble for the result. The great adventure made, there is complete relaxa- tion and the most infectious laughter. The child has returned to itself, and it laughs as only a child can. But why does the child laugh*? Because its laughter is the outward sign that its inner tension Laughter 143 is over; it is one of Nature's way of relieving the strain of living, that strain which is with us from the cradle to the grave. 2. Now, for most of us, laughter is a special form of relief, or momentary escape, from the hard pres- sure of our social life. The social state is one which is a radical departure from the primitive state. Civilisation is, to a large extent, the suppression in us of primitive tendencies and impulses. As Freud says, "The progressive renouncement of constitu- tional impulses, the activity of which affords the ego primary pleasure, seems to be one of the basic prin- ciples of human culture." That is to say, man's social development is con- ditioned by restraint in all directions. As Dr. G. T. W. Patrick says, "The interest of the group demands self-denial, restraint and repression. And this restraint and repression must be largely self- directed, involving ever-increasing powers of at- tention and concentration, and resulting in rapid mental fatigue." It is perfectly natural, therefore, that there should exist in us a certain amount of protest against this repression of primitive impulses. And this recurring protest against the restraints of the social state is a good and necessary thing, occasionally. It is good not only for the individual but also for society. Where this repression of primitive instincts is car- ried too far, endless nervous and other troubles are apt to arise. It is especially harmful for children. 144 Nerves and the Man We do not mean to say that, for children or even adults, laughter and expression of every kind and a: any ohaae is necessarily gocd. Exacession r.eeas :o be cultivated an 1 educated. There are things -xe ought not :o laugh a:, aad there are tenets vdaen laugacer is entirely out of place. La any case, laugattc is the cebound c: the mind. I: is a healthy and wholesome effort :o correct the tyranny of cus- toua aad :c re: bazk :: :;.: creed ran : : rue arse es:a:e. Taece ace those -viae- afe:: ::• look i:""a arm Charlie Chaplin, aad all his "silly way A little clac-ughc. lac— ever, "ill shr~ us eh.ee Charlie Chau- liaa's urechc-d is scriccly psychological. Whhea ve see this inimitable child of Nature, in his long, shape- less boots, his misfitting gloves, and his small twirl- ing scick: vhen we see hirer, standing, suae creed reedy by his ridiculously slight cane, lifting his hat from che back, aad generally crieeing eececle uc. ve laugh in sai:e 0: ourselves. Inscln:c:vely there is in ui a cec:ain antrum cc consent ::• vuaac :.: is. ana -vlaat he does. Taa: is ^'?r: ~e laugh. la Chaalinisna vre .- ■•• orecc- u ^ on us. > ^ e lauraa., ana ace c eve a _c rT.axea. ana. so long as ouc laughter rains na cue *ve ace : : a.: a nea.my ana a necessary cmag. 3. Among che : ccruer.cr.es: causes 0: laughce-c err chrse sins end laases :: "on ~e act all mere :■: 1 e 5.5 liable. In ea:h and ever.' ea.se cat exrirar- 'a Laughter 145 may be found, as we have seen, in the principle that the mind is relieved, for the time being, from the tension which a highly-organised society has imposed upon us. What we laugh at is the unusual, the ir- regular, anything which gives us a moment's respite from the refined and the orderly. The Spoonerism is a good example of the slip of the tongue, involving a comical mixture of ideas. Who could refrain from laughter, even amid the most solemn surroundings, upon hearing a minister of religion praying for his brother in these terms: "O Lord, fill him with fresh veal and new zigor'"? Such slips have been made from time to time, and public speakers know something of the fear, which sometimes seizes them, lest a slip of the tongue should expose them to laughter. Or who could maintain himself with the dignity appropriate to a dinner-party if, when hearing the agreeable host- ess, during dessert, ask a guest if he would have figs or grapes, the confused guest replied, "pigs fleas" ? Similarly, we laugh at people slipping, or losing their balance. To see a dignified, well-dressed man stumble in getting off a 'bus, to behold a trim, taut little man chasing his hat on a blustery day in March, to watch an irate old lady wildly gesticulating at an indifferent 'bus-man, who will not stop at her command, or to hear some one snore in church, laugh we must in such cases. It is not that we are lacking in sympathy; it is not that we consent to the situation in each case, but that, in such cases, 146 Nerves and the Man we see the triumph of the natural and the elemental over the correctitude and the refinements of civilised and social life. 4. In these days strain is inevitable in almost every walk of life. In the rush for success and achievement, in which we are all to some extent engaged, we are apt to take hold of too much of life at once. Foresight, application, and perseverance are good and necessary qualities, but we can make too much of them. The instrument may be tuned too high. The bow may be drawn too tight. Hence worry and anxiety, and that constant fretting of the spirit which issues in complaint, irritability, and bad temper. Let us laugh, then, when and whenever we can, provided our laughter is at laughable things, and provided we do not break the laws of kindness and humanity. It is good for body and mind. It is, withal, one of the means of restoring that healthy human outlook which, in cases of nervous break- down, is so frequently destroyed. We do not mean that one has to go through life perpetually guffaw- ing and giggling. Life is too big a thing for that. We do mean, however, that we should keep the heart in warm living sympathy with reality, and that we should see men and things in something like true proportion. We have it on the authority of Carlyle that "true humour is sensibility in the most catholic and deepest sense. True humour springs not more from the head / Laughter 147 than the heart; it is not contempt; its essence is love. It is a sort of inverse sublimity, exalting, as it were, into our affections what is below us, while sublimity draws down into our affections what is above us." Hence it is that the greatest amongst us can laugh, even when they are under the domination of the solemn and the sublime. Indeed, one of the lessons of biography is this, that a sense of sadness is not incompatible with a sense of the humour of things. Laughter and sorrow often go together, the one correcting the other, and each bearing testi- mony to the discord and music of life. It is notorious that the envious, the base, and the malevolent rarely laugh. Laughter is generous and true-hearted, and mostly indicates a good soul devoid of vanity. It is associated with joy and gladness. It is at home in the free air of company, and it flourishes in the sunlight of good-fellowship and faith. "Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone: For the sad old earth Must borrow its mirth, It has trouble enough of its own." — Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 5. But now, is it possible to give practical coun- sels to the special class with whom we are dealing, and who find it difficult to accept the doctrine of laughter we have been expounding? Can laughter be cultivated? Is it possible to induce laughter to enter from without when its natural avenues are, 148 Xerves and the Man for the time being, blocked up*? Undoubtedly, it is possible. For, be it remembered, the difficulty of laughter, in the special class with whom we are dealing, is often not moral but chiefly physical. We submit therefore the following suggestions, being convinced from experience that they will be found to be of practical value: — (a) Do not inhibit or resist the natural tendency to smile or laugh at amusing things. In nerve trouble there is often present a stolid reserve, which keeps the mind in bearing reins, and which refuses to give it its head. There is present a feeling that laughter is inconsistent with the gloom and de- pression under which they are labouring. Such people do not want to appear to be cheerful, when they really are the reverse. This is natural enough, under the circumstances. But one should remind himself that there is mostly no real reason why one should not laugh, since the course of one's gloom is usually not such as merits censure or blame. Let the mind go, therefore, in the presence of fun, or wit, or humorous situations and persons. Don't let any feeling of dignity or superiority hinder you from smiling or even laughing at the ridiculous and the nonsensical. Ultimately, this means sympa- thy, and sympathy is very largely the essence of humour. Laughter is a great social solvent, and it is as one's feelings and thoughts are dissolved in the warm atmosphere of merry company that the gloom lifts, and one's spirit is set free. Laughter 149 ^_ .^— — — — __ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — ^—— — — (£) It is a great achievement, especially in those under consideration, to be able to laugh at oneself. None find this more difficult than those who are victims to nerves. Mostly, they take themselves very seriously, and it is asking much of them to smile at themselves. Their self-consciousness and their sense of inferiority are often so intense that to smile or laugh at themselves looks like aggravat- ing the very ills from which they suffer. And yet it is possible and desirable. In one of his moments of inspiration Burns ex- claimed — "O wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us!" • It is as rare as it is salutary. Commonly the people we are dealing with look, as George Eliot would say, "as happy as wet chickens." If they could see themselves as the normally healthy man sees them, they could scarce forbear a smile. We recall a case in which the victim would look at himself in a mirror, during his blackest moods. Seeing there his drawn features, and his sad eyes, and reflecting that there was no solid reason for his gloom, his face would break into a broad smile, and, temporarily at least, he became himself again. (c) One of the best occasions for mirth is surely during mealtimes. Table talk ought to flow freely and graciously, and the salt of much of such talk may well be the salt of merriment and good cheer. 150 Nerves and the Man If for no other reason, laughter at meals is good, because it is an excellent digestive. It means leisure- liness, and so corrects the serious fault of bolting one's food. It does much also to facilitate the work- ing of the salivary glands, and so aids mastication and the swallowing of one's food. Add to this the fact that mirth, at table, is a great leveller and a great socialising and uniting influence, and we see how immensely important it is as a corrective of the evils with which we are dealing. (d) It is helpful also to visit occasionally places of entertainment, where a hearty laugh is sure to be found. To see and hear Harry Lauder sing, "I love a lassie," is a revelation of how one laughter- loving human being can open the flood-gates of another's mind, and let in the warm healing tide of good temper and natural delight. To feel superior to such pastimes is to narrow one's healthy sympa* thies. To dismiss them, as waste of time, is often to be ignorant of some of the best uses of leisure. Moreover, it is good not only to laugh, but ta laugh in company with many others. The "loud laughter" which punctuates a public speech or ad- dress is due not solely to the point which is made, or to the story which is told. Its explanation is partly found in what is called the psychology of the crowd. If the politician's joke, or smart repartee, were made in private it would lose part of its spice ; but being addressed to the general public it evokes "loud laughter." It is a wholesome thing, there< Laughter 151 fore, to laugh with others in public. It is especially good for those with whom we are dealing, since it keeps them in touch with their kind, and warms the currents of heart and mind. (e) Lastly, we strongly recommend, for the spe- cial ends we have in view, the reading of humorous and laughter-provoking literature. It is especially good to read such books aloud. In this way, you share your mirth and, in sharing it, it becomes doubly yours. Personally, we have found that the most pro- vocative are the American writers, though Jerome K. Jerome in "Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow," and in "Three Men in a Boat," is one of the most laughter-provoking of men. W. W. Jacobs also is very good. Of course, we are not now dealing with humorous writers in general, of whom we have many, and of the best. We are speaking particularly of that class of book which is best calculated to call forth full-throated laughter, and in this class Ameri- can humorists occupy a foremost place. Chief among these are Mark Twain, Artemus Ward, and Bret Harte. To those who, hitherto, have a prejudice against, or a disinclination to- wards, the grotesque, these writers may not appeal. But by those who can see and feel that the apparent irreverence and lack of refinement of such writers is only on the surface, they will be heartily welcomed and thorough^ enjoyed. Let the victim to nerves read aloud, reading with insight and relish: "The 152 Nerves and the Alan Roman Guide," Speech on the Babies.'" 'The Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," and the '' As- cent of the Rigi," and if he cannot laugh and laugh heartily, it will no: be the fault of Mark Twain. Artemus Ward has a flavour all his own. rough maybe, but extremely stimulating. Among his best known and most laughable sketches are "'The Shakers." ''The Showman's Courtship." and ''Lit- tle Patti" : whilst his chief works are ''Travels among the Mormons" and his "Life in London." Exag- geration is largely the medium in which he worked. Curious, too. are the ridiculously odd liberties he takes with the English language, sometimes spelling words simply by means of their sounds, and some- times making certain figures stand for the part or whole of a word. The following, a description of the prima donna. Madame Patti, is a sample of his method, and is in his best vein : — '''When she smiles, the awjince feels like axing her to doo it sum moor, and to continue: doin it. 2 a indefinite extent. . . . But Miss Patti orter sing in the Inglish tung. As she kin do so as well as she kin in Italyun, why under the son don't she do it'? What cents is thare in singing wurds nobody don't understan when wurds we do understan. is jest as handy'? Why people will versifrerously applaud furrin languige is a mister}-/' Bret Harte also has many admirers. His stories, '•'The Luck of Roaring Camp," etc., are man-els in their way, and, for strength and originality, much Laughter 153 of his poetry is remarkable. One of the best known of these is "The Heathen Chinee," beginning — "Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The Heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I would rise to explain." Then, a never-failing means of provoking real laughter is "Helen's Babies," by a charming writer, John Habberton. This wonderful, exaggerated per- haps, analysis and description of the child mind, was written to amuse a sickly wife ; and as, no doubt, it achieved its immediate object, so it has cheered and amused multitudes since, on both sides of the Atlantic, far beyond the hopes of its big-hearted composer. And so, we conclude this chapter on laughter. Our aim has been to show what laughter is, and what a helpful place it has in the lives of those who are suffering from nervous breakdown. The trouble, in such cases, is that they have become self-centred. The great need is to give such people interests out- side and beyond themselves, to re-unite them to the world of men and things from which they have be- come temporarily divorced. Laughter is one of the best means of doing this, and by any legitimate means it should be persistently and consistently em- ployed. 154 Nerves and the Man The Solemn-Coated Throng "All the daytime I belong To the solemn-coated throng Who with grave, stupendous looks Study cash and ledger books, Or who go, Staid and slow, On sad business to and fro. But when twilight comes, I range Over topics new and strange, Wasting all my leisure hours On fay birds and fantom flowers, Or I sing Some mad fling Thru the impish evening. Yes, and when the moon goes by Rocking in a foamy sky, Then I swear I'm more akin To the laughing Cherubin Than to those grave men who go, To and fro, to and fro, On sad business to and fro." By George Rostrevor in "Escape and Fantasy. CHAPTER XVI THE WILL AND THE WAY It is comparatively easy to point out the way to the desired end. The more difficult thing is to show how the power necessary for the undertaking and achievement of the end is to be generated. It is not knowledge, or even advice, that we usually need so much as executive force or will-power. Now, in serious nerve trouble, this executive power, as well as the other faculties of the mind, has become impaired. Mental effort is made with difficulty. The mind generally is supine and in- ert. It cannot think aright because it cannot con- centrate, and it cannot feel aright because the emo- tions are largely beyond control. Will-power is con- ditioned by vigorous and sustained thought, along with healthy and sustained emotion, the thought and the emotion being in due proportions and right re- lations. If these conditions are not present, the will cannot function in definite and decisive action. Unfortunately, those to whom these pages are especially addressed are more or less in the condition of St. Paul when he said, "to will is present with me, but how to perform I find not." That is to say, 155 156 Nerves and the Man the desire to rise up and act is present to some extent, but the actual power needed to do so is absent. Our aim, at present, therefore, is to suggest ways and means by which the will may be developed and strengthened; for, until this is done, much else will remain undone. A moment's reflection will convince us that lack of will-power, or failure to do, or not to do things, is often due to want of deliberate and intelligent practice. Frequently, and in a general way, we act as if will-power came without much thought or training. It is not so. The golfer who simply does his best each time he plays, regardless of the rules or art of golf, can hardly expect to become even a respectable player. Similarly, to hope to attain skill in the use of the will without attending to the laws which condition its proper use is, generally, and especially in those suffering from nerve trouble, too much to expect. In a general way, our wills are trained without our being aware of the process of training. Will- power comes to us, in a measure, in the home, in school, and by means of religion and the ordinary discipline of life. But in each case, the training has been more or less indirect and unconscious. We have not been taught what the will is, and how it exerts itself in reasoned action. It may be well, therefore, before offering definite suggestions for developing and strengthening the will, to say something as to the nature of the will. The Will and the Way 157 It is commonly admitted to-day that the mind ex- hibits itself in three ways, in feeling, in thought and in will. Not that there is ever feeling without thought, or thought without an element of feeling, or will in which there is no feeling and no thought. No, the mind is a unity, but a unity which manifests itself so that sometimes feeling predominates, some- times thought, and sometimes will. What we wish to impress upon those for whom we are especially writing is this, that will-power is, to a large extent, the result of feeling and thought existing in right proportions and right relations. This is so true that the following principle may be deduced, viz.: "right feeling and right thinking lead to right willing." Once this principle is grasped, we have gone a long way towards under- standing what will-power is, and how it issues in deed and conduct. It is the harmonious working of these three phases of the mind which is the ideal, and experience proves that, where feeling and thought are, each in turn, both strong and truly related, there the will functions in character, which has been defined as a "completely fashioned will." There are some minds which think so much that they never get started along the road of action. Coleridge, it is said, talked like an angel, but did nothing. Intellect and brains are, of course, essen- tial as the works of a watch are, but, without feel- ing, without ambition, for example, brains are as ineffectual as the most beautiful watch which lacks 158 Verves and the Man a mainspring. On the other hand, our feelings are often cold because our knowledge is narrow and stale. Without the play of thought and meditation, feeling is apt to fizzle oat, and the will languishes almost before it has come to birth- It must not be forgotten, however, that out emo- tions occupy a primary place in our lives. "AH action.* says the author of "The Culture of Per- sonality/ 3 "can be traced back ultimately to the pri- ::. 2 "■ npulse or feeling. What we do depends upon our desires, either controlled and transformed, or else accentuated and hastened by our thoughts.** This is both religion and psychology. "Keep thy heart with all diligence," we read, "for out of it are the issues of life." "Still through the paltay stir an Glows down the wisr. : And longing moulds in day wkadt Life Z ^rves in the marble Real ; To let the nevr Bfr ■ ~t Yamm Desire nrus: ::t the portal: Perhaps the longirz r: :•« >: Helps make the soul immortal" — J. R To those, therefore, who ire Ac :dms of ner- vous breakdown, nothing is more important than that they should guard well their emotions. This is largely their specific trouble, that their feelings hare got out of hand. They are the creatures of their moods, their impulses, ihe;: reirs zr.£ zz.ti: desires. Tr.ty i:t :::tr. ir.e z:ty :: ir.rtr. ._s:.. envy and pride! They are the sport of grief , regret; The Will and the Way 159 discouragement, and disappointment, and hence their anxiety, worry and despair. Add to these their sense of self-condemnation, their self-abasement and shame, and we realise somewhat to what depths the soul descends when the realm of emotion is in chaos and disorder. As long as our emotions run riot and we are the victims of our feelings, so long is the will enfeebled, and we cannot do and be what we know we ought to do and be. The corrective for all this is thought and reason. We must quietly and deliberately supplant these weeds of the mind by cultivating in their place the flowers of pure and wholesome emotions. We must occupy the heart with love and affection, with kind- ness, gentleness, sympathy, courage, patience, hope and trust. Having said so much about the nature of the will we are the better able to make definite and practical suggestions as to how we should proceed in order to develop and strengthen it. (l) It must be kept steadily in mind, from the very outset, that there is in us a power which is superior even to the will. Call that power "person- ality'' or the "oversoul" or the "ego" or what you will, there it is. The greatest thing, in each of us, is neither thought nor emotion, not even action, which is applied will-power, but the "self," the "I." It is this which is the sovereign power, and which, through all the years of our conscious being, is the fundamental element in each human life. 160 Nerves and the Man "It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishment the scroll I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul." — W. E. Hexley. It is a good and bracing thing, therefore, to bring our conduct occasionally to the bar of this "ego" of ours. When we have done something contrary to our desires or inclinations, when we have resisted this impulse or conquered that desire, we should remind ourselves that it is the "I," the controller of our lives, who has done it. When we thus stop and tell ourselves that there is such a guiding '•'oversoul" in us, we are doing much to reinforce the majesty of the will, and to impress upon it the imperative of that over-lordship which is the prerogative of human personality. All through life, this controlling entity has held the reins, unifying and relating all our experience, and so making our lives a connected and continuous whole. All through our lives this same wonderful power, the power which says "I ought,"*' c: I can," "I will," this "self," which looks on when we think, which is at hand when we feel, and which approves or disapproves when we decide or not — all the time, this lord of our lives is nearer to us than our breath- ing, and may be the arbiter of all our doings. Believe then in your "self," in that presiding and unifying power within, which lives behind all your thinking and feeling and doing. Trust in it. Rev- erence it. Thus you will come upon part, at least, The Will and the Way 161 of the secret of how to rise up and do the things you ought to do, and leave undone the things you ought to leave undone. For be assured that — "Not fortune's slave is man; our state Enjoins, while firm resolves await On wishes just and wise, That strenuous action follow both, And life be one perpetual growth Of heavenward enterprise." — Wordsworth. (2) On its practical side, the first step necessary in the development and cultivation of the will, is the act of attending. To attend is almost the simplest effort the will can make, and it is well always to begin with simple things, before attempt- ing those which are more complex. Begin here, then. Each time you attend, each time you notice carefully, you are practising the first of the exercises necessary for the development of will-power. Butler says that "the most important intellectual habit that I know of is the habit of attending ex- clusively to the matter in hand." It is important because, by strictly attending, we are breaking in the will, and so initiating the process of building up will-power. It is doing first things first; which, like all first attempts, is not as easy as it seems. But how shall we begin*? Begin with the next thing. You are sitting in your garden. A missel- thrush is singing in a neighbouring tree. His many phrases are whistled to perfection. Keep your mind upon the notes of his song. Listen attentively to 162 Nerves and the Man each phrase in his treasury of melody. Mark the number and variety of his notes and the order in which they follow each other. Listen until you can tell wherein its song differs from that of the black- bird. Or you are walking along the side walk in the street. Determine that you will notice carefully the expression upon the faces of those whom you meet. Do this so thoroughly that, having observed twenty faces, you can classify them as happy or sad, as intelligent or unintelligent, as animated or placid. The mind will soon show signs of wandering. But keep it at the task you have set it. Bring it back again and again until your task has been fairly well done. (3) It is also a good exercise for the will to read so many pages in a book, such as Green's "History of the English People." In spite of interruptions and noises, keep the mind upon the subject-matter, grasping each idea in turn, and retaining in the mind the general content of the text. In cases where there is nerve trouble, let the book chosen be of a simple character. The important thing is that the ideas are clearly perceived, and that they are so linked up in the mind that the reader is able, at the end of the exercise, to give a clear account of what he has read. (4) Further, it is a good plan to force oneself, a little each day, to read up some subject which is somewhat dry and hard. Too much should not be attempted at one time. It needs considerable will- The Will and the Way 163 power also to read through a great work like Gib- bon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." We once met a man who declared that he did this once a year, and that he did it for the sake of the mental control it involved. We do not advise an exactly similar regime, for those whom we are es- pecially addressing, but we do think that the prin- ciple is good, and that to force oneself to such a course of continuous reading is excellent as a means of developing and strengthening the will. It is needless to add further examples of the kind of exercise necessary for bracing and strengthening the will. Those requiring such discipline can easily devise exercises for themselves. It matters little what they are so long as the will is persistently called upon to keep the mind at its appointed task. Simple exercises should be attempted first, more dif- ficult ones being selected as the power of concentra- tion grows and as the will gains in ascendancy over the roving disposition of the mind. In any case, at- tention is the watchword, for attention is the first step in the direction of winning that sovereign power of which the poet has said — "O well for him whose will is strong, He suffers but he will not suffer long." (5) Much may be said also for the practice of forcing oneself to do things, occasionally, which are disagreeable and opposed to one's natural inclina- tions. Many things confront us, from day to day, 164 Nerves and the Man which are irksome or uncongenial. It will be ad- mitted, for example, by those whom we especially have in mind, that strong likes and dislikes are among the distinctive marks of their peculiar con- dition. These likes and dislikes are often so positive and so violent as to pass beyond the bounds of reason. It is a healthy exercise, therefore, to check these dispositions, to force oneself to see what is likeable in persons and situations which we in- stinctively dislike and, generally, to curb our preju- dices and predispositions. Similarly, we should compel ourselves, now and then, to perform tasks which are irksome and dis- tasteful, and spur ourselves on in directions contrary to our desires and inclinations. By such methods the steeds of the mind are kept in hand and the will becomes increasingly the directing power of one's life. For example, a letter long due has not been written. Day after day we put it off on the plea that letter-writing is distasteful to us. Do it at once, and do it, if for no other reason than this, that, in confronting and denying your disinclination, you are reinforcing your power of self-control and so increasing your stock of will-power. Every time you do a thing you dislike doing you are proving to yourself that you are master in your own house, and you are fashioning and fitting to your life that rudder, the will, without the easy and effective work- ing of which you are the sport of every wind that blows. The Will and the Way 165 (6) The forming and keeping of good resolutions are not to be despised as a means of training and strengthening the will. To form a good resolution is to put oneself on his honour, it is a mortgaging of the will, and a making of commitments on the future and, as such, it is a most practical exercise in self-control. Moreover, the serious making of reso- lutions is a means of generating hope. Out of a fresh start, a new call upon the will, hope is born again, and hope and faith are among the most stim- ulating energies of the mind. Many are afraid to make resolutions lest they may fail to kqep them; but better fail in keeping good resolutions, if we do our best, than not fail because we have not tried. The man who climbs and fails silently, and in good spirits, has not done a vain thing. As Lewis Morris says — "I do not blame Phoebus or Nature which has set his bar Betwixt success and failure, for I know How far high failure overleaps the bounds Of low success." (7) Further, we must watch and check our im- pulses. Many of our impulsive acts are excellent. Many, however, are bad in themselves, and indicate a feeble will. In cases where the nervous system is upset, action is apt to take place before the mind has time to get control. The brain under such conditions is in a state of unstable equilibrium, and action takes place as a result of the slightest movement in the nerve currents. Hence it is that the hasty word is 166 Nerves and the Man spoken, the rash act is committed, and we find our- selves plunged into anger and anguish, almost be- fore we have realised what has taken place. How often we hear the confession made: "I never gave it a thought or I would not have said it"; or, "I did it on the impulse of the moment." Many of the bitterest moments in the lives of those with whom we are especially dealing are due to their being victims of their impulses. They act first and think after. They are carried away by their emotions. In short, they lack directive force. Their need is balance, and this can only be attained by the habit of deliberation. Now, deliberation can be acquired even by those having the most volcanic temperament. It is largely a matter of practice and habit. When you find yourself acting or speaking straight from your feel- ings, stop and think. Look before you leap. See both sides, and all sides, before you act or decide. Remember that you will always think, speak, act, and look as you feel. Feeling, therefore, must be confirmed or corrected by thought, or the will can- not function in a healthy and consistent manner. It is not that your feelings or impulses are neces- sarily wrong. Indeed, they are mostly right, and spring up from the fount of your essential manhood. Still, we should not be ruled, even by our best feel- ings or our most generous impulses. We should rule ourselves. "Mightier is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." The Will and the Way 167 (8) Much may be done to develop and strengthen the will also by taking a keen moral interest in men and things. If our tasks are to be carried through thoroughly and to the end we must have a high purpose; we must be under the compulsion of the spirit ; we must have vision, and so we able — "To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower." The will often flags and fails because the mind does not find meaning in the meaningless, because we have not the vision necessary to see beauty in the ugly, and to detect the unusual in the usual. Where also there is no compelling reason for doing or being, the will is supine and the mind is unable either to see the imperative or to do its behests when it has seen it. Strive, therefore, to see life with all its moral and spiritual significance. Remember that there may be moral value in all we do. Everything we are called upon to do, in the routine of our every- day life even, has a moral urgency, and common things may be done in such a spirit, and with such an outlook, as to redeem them from the humdrum and the irksome. It is as one hears the voice divine, behind the call of duty, that the will is invigorated, and we resist and achieve in spite of difficulties and hindrances. As Kipling finely says — "We were dreamers, dreaming greatly in the man-stifled town, We yearned beyond the sky line, where the strange roads go down ; 168 Xerxes and the Man Came the whisper, came the vision, came Power with the need, Tiil the soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead." DON'TS 1. Don't forget that the will is the measure of the man. 2. Don't say "I can't." Say "I can." To believe in your potential power is to increase and enrich it. 3. Don't be the servant of your impulses. Make them serve you. 4. Don't act first and think after. Look before you leap. 5. Don't right your weaknesses by frontal attacks. Crowd out the evil with the good. 6. Don't run into temptation. When exposed, face it in confidence and self-respect. 7. Don't put off till to-morrow what should be done to- day. Do it now. To-morrow it may be more difficult. 8. Don't forget that a good habit is a support to the will, and that a bad one enslaves it. 9. Don't do things because you must, but because you ought. And don't forget that to try is always worth while. CHAPTER XVII SELF-SUGGESTION As we have seen in previous chapters, those suffering from nervous breakdown are seriously and even painfully impressionable. From all quarters the mind is invaded by an endless flow of impressions, and, lacking the power of control, it becomes the victim of those emotional storms which sweep over it, from time to time. This is largely the explana- tion of those fears and anxieties, those worries and feelings of malaise, to which we have often referred. Impressionable people, such as those with whom we are dealing, are especially open to suggestion, and we are convinced that there are, for such, bound- less possibilities in the daily practice of self- suggestion. What, then, is self-suggestion? It has been well defined by Edwin Ash, M.D., in his capital little book on "Mental Self-Help," as "the process of im- pressing the mind with a new idea, or of strengthen- ing a mental impression that is too weak to be of any functional importance." It is necessary to make it quite clear what is meant by self-suggestion, since unthinking people are inclined to look upon the 169 170 Nerves and the Man idea as a species :■: self-decentiom I: is. o: course, nata-mca or trie kmd. It 's s" : c" 'v 3;*.';'-,"." >~ca" a — '. A little reflection will convince us that suggestion, generally freaking, is a power to which all 0: ui are nacre c: less subject, ever;- day of our lives. Un- consciously, by aaearts 0: it., the mind is kept :n motion: reeling, thought, and will, being stimulated ana airecrea thereby. ;n innumerable ways. The 5 y_^ vv'inac" is cunningly set out in order to suggest, to all and sundry, that they should pu:cha.se this article or that. Suggestion also plays a large part in politics, art, ana religion. The political speech is a deliberate at- tempt to suggest certain lines of political action. The painting, the statue, and the sy—zr. my. each is often designed to impress the mind in sum a way as snail lead to new ideas and ideals. Even religion, bath in its content and expression, is an impressive illustration of the influence and power :a suggestion. The cathedral service, with it liturgical forms, its prayers ana music, its vau.tea rc-ot — -And storied r dows, riddy d^hr these, along with the livinz human appeal, are but firms :•: suggest! an. having as their aim the dispos- ing :■: the mind towards the hiaaest and the holiest. If. therefore, suggestion plays sum a large ana Important part in aur general and every-day expe- Self- Suggest ion 171 Hence, it is reasonable to conclude that, if con- sciously, personally, and deliberately applied and directed, it may be one of the most helpful and recreative forces in life. Speaking of specific troubles, Dr. Ash, who is a psychologist as well as a physician, says, "suggestion will act as balm to the jaded worker on the thres- hold of a serious mental breakdown, by giving him sleep, soothing the tired nerves, and restoring his confidence in himself." Most physicians will admit the value of self-suggestion, in the treatment of ail- ments which are associated with highly-strung and emotional temperaments. Often they encourage self- suggestion, inducing their patients to hope and be- lieve even when there seem small grounds for so doing. They do so because they know that the mind acts directly upon the body, as the body does upon the mind, and that the mind may act, in a positive and curative way, under the stimulus of faith and hope. The principle of self-suggestion is based upon the persistent repetition of an idea which points defi- nitely towards healing and help; for, as Levy says, "every idea accepted by the brain tends to become an action." Not only so, such ideas vitally affect the movements of the sub-conscious mind, giving it power and direction, and so acting favourably upon the nervous system and body generally. At present little is known as to the workings of our subconscious mental life. But we do know that 172 Nerves and the Man - ■ - — — ■ - - _ ^ an idea constantly repeated, in the conscious mind, tends to react upon and stimulate the movements of our subconscious being. For example, when we are not in the best of health if we keep telling ourselves that we are ill, and if, in addition, we take up the attitude of the sick person, coddling and pitying ourselves, taking medicines, and assuring our friends that we are ill, we positive lower our physical tone, until we actually become ill. It is also well known that a person taking injec- tions of morphia, for sleeplessness, will sleep after a plain injection of water, provided he does not know that the latter has been substituted for the former, so potent are thought and imagination, not only over the body but even over the judgment and the reason. And so, we might continue citing cases in which the mind is seen to act definitely upon, and sometimes prejudicially against, the body. One might quote instances to prove that cold, hunger, and exposure do not affect the victorious as they do the beaten soldier; that people, generally, are more liable to chills and colds when they are depressed than when they are not; and that grief, worry, or fear operate, not only in the direction of the im- poverishment of the nervous system, but also in the direction of disorders in the bodily organs them- selves. On its practical side, self-suggestion is simply an attempt to get control over our minds and bodies, by seeking to direct what is sometimes called the Self-Suggestion 173 "back of our minds." The more we think about it the more we see that the secret of a happy life, either physically or mentally, is control; control of the feelings, the thoughts, and the actions. As the mainspring of one's life is thought, every effort should be made to direct it. Suggestion is such an attempt. It aims at doing, in the subconscious mind, what can be done by deliberation and reason in our conscious experience. Few of us realise what an enormous influence our thoughts have upon our health. A large amount of our happiness or misery may be traced to our thoughts; and many of us are tensed and anxious and overwrought, not because we are overworked, but because we have allowed innumerable unhealthy thoughts to root themselves in the mind, as weeds infest our gardens, from we know not where. These thoughts, like weeds, choke up the stuff of the mind and, like weeds, they become rank and poisonous, disfiguring and marring what might other- wise be beautiful and fair. Our fears, our appre- hensions, our worries, and anxieties are often noth- ing more than the uprising, from our subconscious selves, of thoughts and imaginations which we, in the first place, permitted to enter our conscious ex- perience. Self-suggestion is one of the best means of crowding these weed-thoughts out of the mind, by introducing, through the conscious mind, other healthier and positive thoughts. 174 Nerves and the Man If intelligently and persistently practised, it will do much "Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And, as some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart." Let us look, then, at some of the leading charac- teristics of the minds of those in bondage to "nerves." Let us see in what way self-suggestion may be used to relieve, if not remove, those "trou- bles of the brain" which weigh so heavily on the lives of those with whom we are specially dealing. Take first the matter of excessive fatigue which is so commonly found in cases of nervous breakdown. How may self-suggestion be applied so as to alle- viate, if not overcome, this distressing malady? The first thing to do is to face it ; to ask ourselves how it has come about. When we do so, we shall find that, apart from physical causes, it is often due to mental depression. That depression acts directly upon the body, making it languid and inert, is be- yond dispute. Just as bad news relaxes the very muscles of the body, so good news braces and vital- ises them. This mental cause, then, must be re- moved, and it may often be done by means of sug- gestion. For example, instead of submitting to dark thoughts and nameless fears, let us bring into the mind bright thoughts and a hopeful outlook. One thought can expel another. As sunshine scatters Self-Suggestion 175 the gloom, so sunny thoughts and cheerful feelings can dispel the spectres of the mind. In proportion as this is done it will be found that new elasticity will take hold of the body, and fatigue will be al- leviated, if not displaced. Further, imagine or picture the buoyant state. Recall those periods when to walk and run were a delight. Feel strong. When you stand up, do it with every muscle of the body. When you walk, or when you lie down, let it be done with decision and force. Don't lounge and loll about, but let your movements be the outward signs of inward health and delight. Then, take the symptom of irritability, which is also commonly present in nerve troubles. Fre- quently it rises with us, in the morning, and accom- panies us throughout the day. It is hard to begin the day with the "morning face," and so difficult to be calm and confident in the presence of the trivial round and the common task. But why are we irritable? When we ask our- selves that question, and do our best to get at the root of the matter, it will often be found that this feeling of irritability has certain definite causes over and above any lowness of nervous tone that may be present. We may sometimes trace it to some past experience, which keeps rising up from the subcon- scious mind. We have feared something, or we have been annoyed and been made angry. We have done something amiss, formed some harsh judg- ment, expressed some unwise thought, or given place 176 Nerves and the Man to some fear. In any case, these unfortunate ex- periences keep coming up to the surface of our con- scious life, and hence our unhappiness and irrita- bility. Now, at such times, we must call upon that calm and repose of which there are ample reserves in all of us. We must dismiss the past, in so far as we cannot alter it. We must let the dead bury the dead, and seek to fill the mind with healthy and helpful thoughts. We must drive out the ashes of anger, and fear, and worry, by replacing them with thoughts and feelings which bring peace to the spirit. At such times we cannot do better than listen to such gentle, soothing words as those of the Buddha, "Put away bitterness of speech; abstain from harsh language; whatever word is human, pleasant to the ear, lovely, reaching to the heart, urbane, pleasing, and beloved of the people, such are the words to speak." We have read somewhere of one of those old-time serving-maids, who added to her many good house- hold qualities an acerbity of tongue which made her the terror of those from whom she differed. She had a kind heart withal, and was wont to excuse her outbursts of acidity by saying, "And if I am sharp on me outside Fm smooth enough on me in- side." To which, her weeping victim replied, "It's a pity you can't wear yourself inside out, then." Most excellent advice! In most of us, even in our most irritable moods, Self-Suggestion 177 there is a reserve of smoothness within. We must believe in our own inward calm. We must assert it, and give it expression, when we are outwardly ruffled. Not only so, it is well to picture the state of calm and poise, about which we know something, in spite of our momentary irritability. In short, we must "pull ourselves together," correcting our feel- ings with our thoughts, and directing both into chan- nels of quietude and composure. Remember also that, in our irritable moods, we are apt to do irreparable mischief to those whom we would not willingly hurt. So much evil is wrought in the world, not through want of heart, but through want of thought, and our irritable moods are often exceedingly thoughtless. As Moore touchingly puts it — "Alas! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied, That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity." Along such lines as we have indicated, we know by experience, self-suggestion may be most success- fully employed. By these means it is possible so to purge and enrich our sub-conscious life that ir- ritability may be allayed, if not destroyed. It is not necessary to enumerate all the various symptoms which harass and distress the minds of 178 Nerves and the Man that special class with whom we are dealing. Sleep- lessness, the sense of inferiority, self-consciousness, lack of self-confidence, restlessness and the others, each and all of these may be treated by self-sugges- tion, by striving to implant, in the subconscious mind, thoughts and feelings of a positive and counteracting nature. The principle which must be applied is that of crowding out the evil by bringing in the good. The best means of doing this must be left to ourselves. The important thing is that we do not consent to any of these ills, but keep telling the mind, repeatedly and hopefully, that they need not exist, and to persevere in faith and hope until the healthy and normal state has been attained. But now, it is no use making suggestions to our- selves listlessly and languidly. In telling ourselves that "we will" be this, and that "we will not" be that, in assuring ourselves that "we can" rise above this, and that "we can" overcome that, we must impress and convince ourselves as to what we intend to do or do not intend to do, as we would use every endeavour to convince our fellows as to our in- tentions. For example, it is not enough to tell ourselves, when we cannot sleep, "I will sleep to-night. I feel sure I shall sleep." It is not enough to tell our- selves, when we are angry or irritated, "I will keep calm. I will keep myself in hand." It is not enough, when we are shy and nervous and lack self- confidence — it is not enough to say, "I will be mas- Self-Suggestion m ter of myself; I will keep myself under control." These affirmations should be repeated to oneself morning, noon, and night, and not merely at the par- ticular time when their actual need arises. The suggestions, contained in these affirmations, must get hold of the mind. They must sink down into our subconscious life. They must become part and parcel of ourselves. It is only in this way that we may hope that they will influence body, mind, and spirit. Then, when we repeat these suggesting affirma- tions, as we should persistently and methodically suggest them, we must do so calmly, slowly, dis- tinctly, and emphatically. There must be convic- tion and intensity, not only in our hearts and minds, but in the very words themselves. Words are mightier than we imagine. They play a much larger part in our lives than we ever dream. They are living things, and do much to shape and direct our subconscious life. When a word sinks down into our unconscious being it germinates like a seed, and throws up thoughts and images, which do much to make or mar our happiness. It is wise, therefore, to accustom ourselves to dwell thoughtfully upon certain words. We should repeat them calmly, deliberately, and positively. We should repeat them in such a way as to catch their music, and to be saturated with their mean- ing. Such words are, peace, harmony, serenity, kindness, faith, love, hope, goodwill, generosity, pa- 180 Nerves and the Man tience, contentment, forbearance, sympathy, unself- ishness, gentleness, and the like. On the other hand, we should exclude from the mind such words as pride, envy, hatred, fear, revenge, anger, worry, failure, despair, depression, grief, and any words such as turn the mind in upon itself, giving it a bias along unhealthy directions. Further, it is a good and helpful plan to make a list of phrases and short sentences, which suggest quiet and restful states of mind. These should be repeated from time to time, especially before retir- ing to rest. Such as the following are most help- ful and suggestive: "Love casteth out all fear," "The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace . . ." "Casting all your care upon Him," "Consider the lilies of the field," "The harvest of a quiet eye," "At leisure from oneself," "A quiet heart," "Be careful for nothing," and others which we meet in the course of our reading. If this is done, regularly and persistently, we are convinced that both our con- scious and subconscious life will become enriched, and we shall be saved from those moods and fits of depression which haunt the minds of all those in bondage to a highly tensed nervous temperament. Yet again, it will be found to be stimulating and steadying if we collect and repeat poetic phrases and sentences such as contain pictures and images which at once calm the mind and exercise the imaginative faculty. The following illustrate what we mean : "The lowing herd winds slowly o'er Self-Suggestion 181 the lea," "The bud on the bough," "Day is dying in the west," "The toils of day are over," "Our wearied eyelids close," "When morning gilds the skies," "The wind in the trees," "Mountain top and wooded dell," "Fierce raged the tempest o'er the deep," and many others. If these phrases and sentences are repeated quietly, emphatically, and with feeling, at the same time calling upon the mind to visualise the pictures they contain, much may be done to compose and dispose our thoughts and emotions. By such means we may do much to give calm and poise to the mind, which, in cases of nerv- ous breakdown, is so often beset by those clouds "and storms which are the results of derangement in the nervous organism. The virtue of self-suggestion, as we have seen from what has been said, is that it disposes the mind to think health instead of illness. It tends to oc- cupy the mind with the positive as opposed to the negative. It gives the mind a bias towards right and healthful directions. It develops a balanced outlook, and does much to free the mind from that lack of proportion to which so many of us are sub- ject. Why we should dwell more upon the dark and sombre side of things is hard to tell. That we are disposed to do so can scarcely be denied. We think more of our failures than our successes. We give more thought and emotion to our grey days than to our days of light and sunshine. We talk more 182 Nerves and the Man about our pains than about our healthy bodily de- lights. And, in these ways, we are constantly sug- gesting to our minds the very evils we deplore. Self- suggestion is the corrective of all this. By means of it we may draw upon our inward sources of help and strength. By building up a wall of self- suggestion we are confident that much may be done to give peace to the spirit, health to the body, and power to the will. "We are but farmers of ourselves, yet may, If we can stock ourselves and thrive, up-lay Much good treasure for the great rent day." CHAPTER XVIII WORK, INTEREST, AND HOBBIES One of the dangers attending nerve trouble is that of invalidism. There is often present a tendency to give in to inertia and indifference. Responsibil- ity is not welcomed. The serious business of life is apt to be postponed, if not shunned. Owing to the peculiar demands which are made upon the nerve forces, energy becomes spasmodic and unre- liable, and, as a result, there is a lack of initiative and perseverance. It is easy, therefore, for those whom we are addressing to drift into comfortable ways, to take the line of least resistance, and to settle down into invalidism. Their minds are so occupied with their weaknesses and failings, and they often feel so tired and used up, that effort and work make little or no appeal to them. It is of supreme importance, then, that they should have some definite and suitable occupation, as soon as possible, after they have recovered them- selves from the first stage of their trouble. It is fatal to throw oneself upon the sick list and to wait 183 184 Nerves and the Man for the return of normal health before taking up or returning to one's calling or profession. Of course, in the early stage of the trouble, rest is not only necessary but imperative, if the nerve forces are to be replenished. The time must soon come, however, when a return to work is all-im- portant, and when some clear and, as far as pos- sible, alluring aim be set before us. Idleness ag- gravates the situation, since it throws the mind in upon itself, ministering to the very ills it is so de- sirable to remove. To be pleasurably occupied is to keep worry, care, and anxiety at arm's length. Time has a fleeting wing also when one's days are usefully spent, and no time hangs so heavily as that with which we know not what to do. The busy man, moreover, has little room for brooding and fretfulness — "From toil he wins his spirit's light, From busy day the peaceful night: Rich, from the very want of wealth. In Heaven's best treasures, peace and health." Then, one of the chief uses of work, for the man whom we are especially considering, is that it gives him a sense of comradeship, and so tends to create in him a balanced and healthy outlook. In most callings, also, regularity, punctuality, attention, con- centration, and reliability are essentials. And these are precisely the forms of discipline which he needs. Instead of yielding to the plea, "I will get back to work when I am better," the victim to nerves Work, Interest, and Hobbies 185 should sooner or later tell himself, "I shall get bet- ter when I get back to work." We are convinced that a state of idleness is the worst thing possible, for, "in idleness alone," as Carlyle says, "is there perpetual despair." Further, work gives us a sense of the right to rest, a most important point for the class in mind. Quite frequently it is found that unstrung, over- wrought men and women are those who, whilst they drift and wait upon events, are at pains to justify their inactivity. They know that they ought to be, and can be, up and doing, and so they must needs defend themselves against the possible charge of idleness. Work, therefore, acts upon them as a moral tonic, enabling them to enjoy, to the full, the rest which has been earned. "They know, who work not they who play, If rest is sweet." But now, to those suffering from nervous break- down, it is vital that the work in which they are employed should be interesting. For many of us the question of interest is a serious problem. The choice of our vocation has usually to be made early in life and, even then, it is often a choice made for us rather than by us. The result is that, not infre- quently, we find ourselves in pursuits which, to say nothing of our temperament, are not naturally suited either to our physical strength or our abilities. Under a more perfect system of national educa- tion, it would seem essential that an important 186 Nerves and the Man place should be given to some method of testing our boys and girls, upon leaving school, as to the kind of vocation they may be best fitted for. In the meantime, multitudes, lacking such a vocational test at the beginning of their career, find themselves in callings and positions for which they were never meant. Thus, under the wear and tear of unsuit- able and uncongenial occupations, they eventually break down, becoming victims to those nervous dis- orders which we are at present considering. Not infrequently, the complaint of highly strung and temperamental people is either that they have lost interest in their work, or that the work itself is not interesting. It is often in the ranks of this class that nervous troubles reveal themselves. Lacking interest in what they are doing the mind becomes depressed, and, their attention being di- verted from their occupation, they become self-con- scious and introspective. Is it possible to generate interest in the lives of such? Is it possible to redeem the common-place, and to find zest and even pleasure in callings and positions which apparently are not interesting? We believe it is possible. Indeed, if it were not, then, for large numbers of us, some of the common causes of nervous trouble must remain. Without inter- est, we become drudges, and drudgery clouds the mind and saps the nervous forces as few evils can. How, then, is it possible to create and maintain interest in our daily tasks? In some callings there Work, Interest, and Hobbies 187 is little difficulty, as the kind of work involved ap- peals naturally to the mind, and is well within the limitations of the body. But even in such cases time and use tend to induce staleness, and interest may flag and fail. In all work, therefore, certain conditions must be present and maintained, if one's interest is to be keen and steady. (a) The first condition is a measure of health. It is difficult to be interested in one's work for long, lacking a moderate amount of physical strength. The attention and concentration, involved in sus- tained interest, presume a certain degree of nervous and mental energy, and this is impossible when the body itself lacks spring and force. It is impossible to find pleasure or delight in tasks which make de- mands beyond our strength. In this respect some begin life handicapped at the very outset, but most of us have potential health, such as, if properly at- tended to, makes all the difference between indiffer- ence and interest. (£) The second condition necessary for the crea- tion and maintenance of interest is that, as far as possible, our labours should be directed along defi- nite lines and towards definite ends. It is easy to see how in this way interest may be developed in the case of the professions and what is called skilled labour. To make and maintain a position as a law- yer or a musician, as a preacher or an actor, has behind it the stimulus of distinction, to say nothing of other values. The more difficult thing is to show 188 Nerves and the Man how interest can be stimulated in such callings as that of the civil servant and the bank clerk, call- ings in which there is of necessity much routine, and so a strong tendency to monotony. It is something to keep in mind that, whatever one's calling is, it is the means at hand of earning one's living. That which enables us to live, which usefully fills up our time, and which engages all the powers of body and mind, cannot be a matter of indifference. It must have in it a certain amount of interest, and it can be found if we look for it. (c) There are few, if any, callings which have in themselves an unfailing source of interest and pleasure. Sooner or later, we find that interest de- pends partly, at least, upon the spirit in which we do things. Why is it that play is so interesting and that work is so uninteresting? Is it not because in play we forget everything else, whilst in work we are frequently the victims of duty, and need, and care, and anxiety? "Work is activity for an end. Play is activity as an end." Hence it is that in the former there is bondage, whilst in the latter there is freedom. The more we can interpret work, therefore, in terms of play, the more interested we shall become, and the less shall we feel the strain and pressure of monotony, which does so much to kill the spirit, and to wear down the nervous forces. (d) Much may also be done to stimulate inter- est by bringing to bear upon our work a high sense of duty, by doing things carefully and thoroughly, Work, Interest, and Hobbies 189 and by looking for the rare and unusual in the ordi- nary and the commonplace. It is vision which re- deems such work from the commonplace and monot- ony. Lacking a high motive, the mind tires and, almost before we realise it, we become time-servers and hirelings. And this applies to all callings, even the humblest and the least desirable. The impor- tant thing is that we do not become slaves, that we do things as in the presence of the Highest. Only in this way, we are convinced, can we con- tinue to prosecute our life's tasks with patience, and with some measure of freshness and delight. (e) Further, self-suggestion, as a means of gen- erating interest, has a real place in this connection. Frequently it will be found that loss of interest and general slackness in one's work are traceable to some extent to the habit of depreciating one's vocation. It is easily possible to kill interest in what we are doing by dwelling upon its difficulties, its unattrac- tiveness, and its monotony. No calling can long hold our attention and interest which has ceased to be regarded as important and worth while. Instead of dwelling, therefore, upon the difficult and disagreeable side of our work, it is far better to keep reminding ourselves of those special advan- tages and attractions which are present, more or less, in all occupations. It is a capital corrective to mag- nify our position, to compare it favourably with that of others, and generally to realise its special advantages and attractiveness. In this way we give 190 Nerves and the Man the mind a healthy perspective, and so do much to relieve the nervous strain which is bound to ensue when one's work has lost something of its original appeal. After all, it is the mind that we bring to bear upon our work which makes all the difference. In the nature of things some vocations have more inherent interests than others. Still, if we do our best, "To set the cause above renown, To love the game beyond the prize," it is astonishing what interest may be found in the most obscure calling, and in the meanest task. But now, interest is good in itself, apart from the power it has of redeeming our work from fret and monotony. It has a soothing and restoring in- fluence upon the mind. Provided our interests do not make immoderate demands upon our energies, it relieves the mind and, by taking us out of ourselves, tends to ease and quiet the nervous system. It must not be supposed, therefore, that interest is essential, for those with whom we are especially dealing, in their work only. Leisure is as neces- sary as toil, and the question of how to make the best use of our leisure becomes the more important as the social order tends to reduce the number of our working hours. The thing to be guarded against is boredom, and we can often be more eas- ily bored in our leisure hours than in our hours of toil. By common consent there is much virtue in rid- Work, Interest, and Hobbies 191 ■ ing a hobby, as, by this means, we create and main- tain interest in our leisure hours. A hobby has been defined as a pursuit one follows with zeal and en- thusiasm. The exact nature of the hobby chosen must be left to our own inclination and taste. For those whom we have particularly in mind, those hobbies are best which make a moderate demand upon the mental powers. Intellectual hobbies, however, must not be ridden too hard or, instead of relieving and refreshing, they enervate and de- press the mind. (a) One of the most obvious hobbies is that of reading. Of course, it is all-important that the victim to nerves should read the right kind of books. Books, like men and women, may depress the mind and cloud the spirit. For those whom we are es- pecially addressing, the standard of a good book should be its power of elevating the mind and cheering the heart. Indeed, this is the office of every real book. "Literature," says Mr. Birrell, "exists to please, to lighten the burden of men's lives, to make them for a short while forget their sorrows and their sins, their silenced hearths, their disappointed hopes, and their grim futures." Some one has said of Robert Browning that the great virtue of his writings is that, in them, "he helps us up." That is a great service to have ren- dered the world. Let us choose, then, such books, whether they be prose or poetry, books which "help us up," which inspire and invigorate, which dispel 192 Nerves and the Man our doubts and fears, and kindle our hopes, so that, whatever our pastimes, reading will occupy a fore- most place. (b) For those whose tastes may not incline them towards much reading there are other indoor hob- bies, such as music, drawing, carpentry, and a gen- eral interest in one's home. The writer can tes- tify that drawing is one of the most refreshing hobbies to those who have in some measure the sense of form. It demands accuracy, detail, and just that amount of concentration which is necessary for the maintenance of a balanced and mental life. Much also can be said for a box of carpenter's tools. There are many calls in the home for their use over and above the making of simple things for common convenience. There is real satisfaction in making something useful. Moreover, such work means a sense of achievement, which again does something at least to increase one's self-confidence and to develop the spirit of perseverance up to a definite point. Then, since the home counts for much to those who are suffering from strain and nervous disabilities, the beautifying of the home may be a delightful hobby. Much may be done to make it what our special needs demand, the House Beautiful, the spot in the world where there is quiet and rest and refreshment. The furniture, the pictures, the colourings, the arrangement, the gen- eral order and neatness; above all, the comfort and happiness of those about us. By giving our atten- Work, Interest, and Hobbies 193 tion to these, and other things, we shall not only be enriching our dwelling-place, but we shall, at the same time, be doing much to steady and calm and establish our inner mental selves. "God send us a little home, To come back to, when we roam. Low walls, and fluted tiles, Wide windows, a view for miles. Red firelight and deep chairs, Small white beds upstairs — Great talk in little nooks, Dim colours, rows of books. One picture on each wall, Not many things at all. God send us a little ground, Tall trees standing round. Homely flowers in brown sod, Overhead, Thy stars, O God. God bless, when winds blow, Our home, and all we know." — Florence Bone. (c) For those of us who are naturally active, hobbies involving collecting and classifying speci- mens are excellent. Whether our taste turns in the direction of butterflies or moths, of beetles or plants, of old china or prints or stamps, in each and all great interest and wide knowledge are possible. One of the happiest men the writer ever met was one who had made, during years, a wonderful col- lection of beetles. The hobby was taken up to kill 194 Nerves and the Man time, but the result was plain for all to see, in a quiet mind, the sense of achievement, and in the mental discipline, which had been won after years of patient toil. Of course, there should be modera- tion in the riding of our hobbies. The moment they ride us, and we become their victims, and not their masters, we have abused and not used them. (d) Last of all, there is gardening, which is, for those whom we have especially in mind, one of the healthiest of hobbies. It is to be recommended be- cause it appeals to one's interest on so many grounds, keeps us in the open, and pleasurably en- gages the energies of both body and mind. The danger attending it is that, since it makes so many demands upon one's time and energy, it may tend to use up too much of our strength. Apart from the exercise it entails, and the fresh air it brings to the lungs, it is a hobby which fills the heart with reverent thoughts, and which gives added charm and meaning to our homes. More- over, it keeps us in the presence of Nature in her most intimate moods, and reminds us of the ulti- mate source of things. "In horticulture," says Dean Hole, in his delightful "Book about the Garden," "there is less rivalry, less jealousy than in other en- terprises, because, first of all, the very practice of it tends to make men generous and wise, and be- cause the arena is so large and the spheres of ex- cellence so numerous that none need interfere with his neighbour, or insist on riding his hobby." Work, Interest, and Hobbies 195 A garden may be looked at from at least two standpoints, that of utility and that of beauty. We are of opinion that there is much beauty in a kitchen garden, more than is generally supposed. But, for the sheer comfort and delight, the flower garden is refreshment In Excelsis. It is a delight even to re- call the names of some of the favourites, names of plants which involve little cost, and which grow in the cottager's patch as generously as they do beside the lawns of the stately mansion. It is pleasant even to read aloud a list like the following, and, as you read, to visualise some- thing of the wealth of colour it implies: Phlox Drummondii, Iceland Poppies, Calceolarias, An- tirrhinums, Pentstemons, Petunias, Lobelias, Cam- panulas, Salvias, Begonias, Fuchsias, Heliotropes, Hydrangeas, Grevilleas, and so on. It is a mental tonic to look carefully into the meaning of each of these names, as it is delightful discipline to be able to recall such names at will. In these days, also, the scope for specialising in the flower world, and so intensifying our interest and pleasure, is considerable. In the beautiful realm of roses much has been done in this respect, many charming favourites being the result, the very names of which it is refreshing to repeat. What's in a name 4 ? A rose, by any other name, would doubtless smell as sweet. Still, some of its sweet- ness is derived from the beauty of its name: Belle Lyonnaise, Gloire de Dijon, U Ideal, Marechal Niel, 196 Nerves and the Man Etoile de Lyon, Grace Darling, the Bride, Sunset, to say nothing of Catherine Mermet, Jean Ducher, and Marie Van Houtte, and many others ; to be fa- miliar with these, and to have at our easy recall the special beauties they connote, is to have sight, healing, and riches of the mind, a never- failing source of benediction and delight. It may be asked what all this has to do with our subject? Our answer is that the people with whom we are dealing depend very much upon their en- vironment. Nothing for them is more important than that they should respond to their surroundings in a joyous and positive way. In so far as their work, interests, and hobbies enable them to do this, they can rise above their special weaknesses and dis- abilities. The all-important thing for these people is, by all and every legitimate means, to recover their normal relationships, to get back into life, and to take their proper place in the midst of their fel- lows. For them, especially, to retire from the fight is suicidal. Having once suffered from nerv- ous strain or breakdown, and learnt their lesson, they should put the past behind them, make a fresh start, and henceforth keep well within their limi- tations. Moreover, they should persistently be- lieve in their own recovery. They should act upon the assumption that their breakdown is but an in- terlude, and that, given time and patience, Nature will eventually and successfully reassert herself. CHAPTER XIX MUSIC AND THE EMOTIONS The more the nature and workings of the human mind are explored and understood, the more we shall realise, we are convinced, that music has a far deeper meaning and value than is generally sup- posed. The popular notion is that music is almost entirely a means of amusement and relaxation. It is not generally realised that it may play an im- portant part in reorganising the mental faculties and enabling the mind to function in a healthy and balanced manner. The ancients were wiser than we are in this re- spect. So strongly did they believe in the practical values of music that they gave it a foremost place in their national education. "Music," said Plato, "is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but, nevertheless, dazzling, passionate, and eternal form." No wonder, therefore, that, in his ideal 197 198 Nerves and the Man republic, this philosopher gave music a real and im- portant place. But our immediate concern is not to urge the value of music as a general means of culture and refinement. It is to show how music may be used as a means of stimulating, restoring and pacifying the minds of those who are the victims of nervous disorders. We believe that, psychologically, music can be demonstrated to be of great value to this special class. Common experience also goes far to support the view that music has a strange and subtle power over the human mind, especially when the mind is labouring under stress or depression or ex- citement. During the late war, all through the years of training, marching and fighting, music played a great part in the lives of sailors, soldiers and peo- ple. Whether we think of the sailor, keeping si- lent watch at the gates of the enemy, whether we think of the soldier, making his long marches and holding his exposed trenches in France and Belgium, or whether we think of a sorely tried people at home, we cannot dissociate music from these things. Every soldier knows that, without the marching song, each mile he had to trudge grew longer and more tiresome, and that, under the inspiration of "It's a long way to Tipperary" and "Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag," and the like, he did great exploits and "got there" in the end. Music and the Emotions 199 "And here the singer for his art, Not all in vain may plead, The song that nerves a nation's heart Is in itself a deed." — Tennyson. Then, music is perhaps the chief handmaid to re- ligion, which again has much to do in stabilising and refreshing the mind. The intoned service, hymns, such as the Te Deum, the musical response, along with the deep-toned accompaniment of the or- gan, each and all of these are confessedly great aids in awing and quieting the mind of the worshipper. If music, therefore, has such power and charm in religion, and in times of national strain and stress, it is a fair inference that it also has consid- erable and special values for the class of people with whom we are especially dealing. It is to the eluci- dation and application of these values, as they af- fect highly strung and nervous temperaments, that we now direct our attention. It is not easy to explain precisely the nature of music, or fully to account for its subtle and power- ful influence upon the mind. But it is clear that music is the outward expression of tune, pitch and harmony which are found, more or less, in the world of Nature. There is a vast difference between noise and music, although Dr. Johnson did not appear to think so. Nature is rarely, if ever, noisy; she is always and persistently musical. Indeed, it may be said that music is just one mode of expressing that law of 200 Nerves and the Man harmony which exists in and behind all life. As Byron put it — "There's music in the sighing of the wind: There's music in the gushing of the rill, There's music in all things, If men had ears to hear it." The appeal of music, therefore, to those suffering from nervous disorders, would seem to be direct and natural. It is a reminder of the normal healthy state. It is a call to return to those conditions which underlie a perfect and harmonious mental life. One of the wonderful things about music is the extraordinary way in which it fathoms and embraces the whole realm of emotion. There is scarcely an emotion, in all human experience, to which music does not make some appeal. It can stir the best in us and the worst. It can exhilarate and inspire, as it can relax and depress. And its all-embracing in- fluence is the more wonderful when we consider how simple and elementary is the basis upon which it rests. "There are but seven notes in the scale; make them fourteen," says John Henry Newman, "yet what a slender outfit for so vast an enterprise. What science brings so much out of so little*? Is it possible that that inexhaustible evolution and disposition of notes, so rich and yet so simple, so intricate and yet so regulated, so various and yet so majestic, should be mere sound which is gone and perishes? No, they have escaped from some Music and the Emotions 201 higher sphere: they are the outpourings of eternal harmony in the medium of created sound: they are echoes from our (eternal) Home." Now, we hold that those suffering from nervous ailments are usually very responsive to the appeal which music makes. As Herbert Spencer has said, "the strong capacity which we have for being so affected by melody and harmony may be taken to imply that it is within the possibilities of our na- tures to realise those intenser delights they dimly suggest." This is high doctrine. But we are convinced that there is a large element of truth in it. To love music, to turn to it in hours of ease or hours of strain, is to protest against mental disorder and undue emotional excitement. There is hope for the man or woman who can find in music mental rest, or inspiration, or relaxation. And the hope lies in the fact that, in this way, they are dimly seeking what they have more or less lost, that inward poise and calm without which life is vain. First. — It is worthy of note that music has a stim- ulating effect upon the body. We ourselves know that singing has a direct and helpful influence upon the physical development of children, especially in relation to the throat and the chest. A simple test will show us that, by putting the finger upon the pulse of a child, and inducing it to sing, it will be found that the circulation of the blood is stimu- lated, and, since a healthy flow of the blood is of 202 Nerves and the Man first importance, it will readily be seen that music is a means to this end. Further, many most interesting experiments have been made as to the effects of music upon the ap- petite and the process of digestion. "Singing al- ways makes boys hungry," says Dr. Joseph Bridge. This is easy to understand, when we remember what takes place in the act of singing. It means, at least, more air for the lungs, and so a greater amount of oxygen for the purpose of absorption. Add to this the fact that singing implies a better development of the organs of respiration, and we realise that, by this and other means, the process of digestion is quickened, and the general health invigorated. Now, it is remarkable that singing is rarely in- dulged in by those suffering from serious nervous trouble. Song is usually the outward sign of a measure of inward harmony, and where this inward peace is lacking, as it is to some extent in cases such as we have in mind, we can hardly expect much ex- pression in the form of song. We are convinced, therefore, that the special class under consideration cannot do better than give them- selves to song as much as possible. In church, in company, at home, and even alone, the singing habit is one of the best we can cultivate. It is good to listen to others singing. It is better to sing our- selves. If possible, we should study at least the elements of the art of singing, and especially the art of breathing, which is involved in doing so. In Music and the Emotions 203 this way, we believe much may be done to quicken and stimulate our tired and languishing nerves. Second. — Music is also a delightful means of relaxation. We have spoken of the need of re- i laxation in a previous chapter. We need say noth- ing here, therefore, except to emphasise the fact that, for those whom we particularly have in mind, the constant need is the easing of the unnatural ten- sion of their minds. It is this abnormal mental tension which is frequently the source of the trouble, and it is impossible to continue in this state for long without incurring serious consequences. If the mind is stretched beyond its limits, the whole nervous sys- tem is bound to collapse sooner or later. Music is one of the best means of relieving this tension. It brings relief by providing us with a pleasant means of expression. The simple fact is that, the class of people under consideration, are so susceptible and so sensitive that they receive more impressions than the mind can absorb. Unless these impressions are reacted to, and some natural outlet is provided, there is bound to ensue some kind of explosion, followed by nerve trouble. Music is one of the best means of expression and relaxation, since it is an appeal to the emotions. Some say it is this and nothing more. As we have seen, however, this is not the case. Emotion, thought, and action, are related each to the others. Hence it is possible so to appeal to the emotions, by 204 Nerves and the Man means of music, as to influence for good not only the mind, but the whole man. One of the strange things about music is its in- herent tendency towards melancholy. Jessica speaks for many of us when she says— "I am never merry when I hear sweet music." Perhaps this is why music makes a special appeal to, and affords real help for, the class we have always in mind. Music fits each and every mood, the mood of melancholy no less than the mood of cheerful- ness. It rejoices with those who rejoice, and weeps with those who weep. It brings to the mind that touch of sympathy and healing which has its origin in the unseen. It gives expression to that element of sadness which exists in the nature of things, and which exists, to a painful degree, in those whose nervous system is strained and overwrought. We are excited and irritable, at the close of the day, let us suppose. Things have gone wrong dur- ing our business hours. Feelings, and even pas- sions, have been aroused, and our minds seem, as a result, to be full of what Professor William James calls "bottled lightning. 5 ' At such times it is good to compose oneself whilst one listens to songs like "The Sands o' Dee," "Bois epais," or "Abide with me. Better for some, perhaps, is it to sit quietly in an adjoining room and to listen to pianoforte pieces like "Au bord de la fontaine," by Heller; or Music and the Emotions 205 "Erotik," by Grieg; or "Deux Arabesques,'* by Debussy. In this way, the mind is pleasantly re- laxed, and due and suitable expression is given to many hours of heaped-up impressions. This is a sure way of avoiding those mental explosions which are apt to take place when one's emotions are not allowed to evaporate quietly and easily. It is also in direct accord with the psychological dictum, "no impression without proportionate expression." We are convinced that one of the most commonly neg- lected needs of victims to nerves is just this con- stant habit of expression, and, in so far as music is a means to that end, we cannot afford to neglect it. Third. — A further point of view from which music may be regarded is that of its calming or pacifying influence upon the mind. Much nervous energy is wasted because of these storms of emo- tional excitement, to which most highly strung peo- ple are subject. The need for such people is not "toning up" so much as "toning down," and, beyond all doubt, certain forms of music are excellent for this purpose. It may not always be possible to prove these things to demonstration. Common experience, however, testifies to the fact that music has the power of calming and composing the distressed mind. It induces, at least, an approach to the state of sleep, and so creates the conditions for physical and mental rest. There is even medical authority for this view, since it has been proved that, by ac- 206 Nerves and the Man celerating the circulation of the blood, cerebral pres- sure is reduced, and so nervous excitement is al- layed. It has also been pointed out that as staccato pas- sages, played swiftly and boldly upon the violin, agitate and give lively pleasure to the mind, so soft adagio movements sooth and pacify it, giving it the most exquisite sense of calm and quiet delight. Of music which merely amuses or relaxes, in a gen- eral way, there is abundance. The need is for a more specific adaptation, so as definitely to meet the various moods to which the highly tensed mind is subject. The common need is for that form of music which, as Tennyson says — "Gentler on the spirit lies Than tired eyelids on tired eyes." The kind of selections we have in mind are those for the pianoforte, such as Cyril Scott's "Vesper- ale"; "to a Water Lily," and "At an old trysting place," by Macdowell; "Automne," by Chaminade; Chopin "Nocturnes''; Liszt's "Liebestraum" ; Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," and many others. The writer has proved that to sit in an adjoin- ing room when the mind is weary and spent, and to give oneself up to such music, is to get into touch with the spirit of peace and repose. One should not make the common mistake of assuming a strained attitude in listening. The way to listen to such music at such times is not to bring too much Music and the Emotions 207 attention to bear upon it, but to give oneself up to it, allowing both feeling and thought to be played upon in a natural and unrestrained manner. Quite frequently people are fatigued after lis- tening for some time to the most delightful music. Instead of being refreshed they are exhausted. The reason is that the mind is held stretched to the high- est point of attention. Here, as in other directions, the need is for relaxation, and it is when we have learnt some measure of this art, the art of unlim- bering the mind, that music makes its most helpful appeal. It is thus that we realise the healing power of rhythm and tone: "A tone Of some world far from ours Where music, and moonlight, and feeling are one." Fourth. — Then there are times when the mind needs rousing and inspiration, times when the eyes of the mind have become inverted, and when there is a tendency towards dreamy inaction. Such times and moods are well known by those with whom we are especially dealing. We are confident that at such times, and for such people, certain kinds of music may be stimulating in the highest degree. Generally speaking, the sensations produced in the mind vary according to pitch and tone. The higher the pitch the more exciting the sensation. The lower the pitch the less exciting, and, therefore, the more soothing. 208 Nerves and the Man In hours of gloom and depression, therefore, it is the more exciting forms of music which are help- ful. The allegro, owing to the quick and short im- pressions it makes upon the auditory nerves, gives the mind a lively and agreeable sensation, fills the spirit with delight, and surprisingly invigorates the whole mental and nervous machine. As Dr. Chomet says, "agitez progressivement le lymphatique par une musique forte et puissante; calmez le nerveux par des melodies suaves et douces." After all that may be said respecting the specific effects of music upon the mind, and the nerves gen- erally, for the plain man, experience counts for most. We know, if we have at all considered the matter, what kinds of music stimulate or pacify us best. We know, for example, that one of the most inspiring and exciting compositions ever written is the "Marseillaise." Happily we are the heirs of a rich store of in- spiring song and musical composition. Either by means of the voice, the pianoforte, the violin, or even a pianola, an inexhaustible source of inspira- tion and delight is at our disposal. And what we are anxious to impress upon the reader is the neces- sity for making constant use of it. Life would be far happier and more buoyant, not to speak of its being more efficient, than it is if we paid a little more attention to the appeal made to us by sweet and inspiring music. We have no man- ner of doubt that, if we are to meet successfully the Music and the Emotions 209 increasing stress and strain of the future, we shall do it best by availing ourselves more fully of the soothing and exhilarating influence of what has been called the healing art. Among such healing influences, we are familiar with the following, and can heartily recommend them to others: Chopin's Waltzes and Mazurkas; Grieg's "Morning Song"; Macdowell's "Brer Rab- bit"; "Finlandia," by Sibelius; the "Handelian Rhapsody," and "Danse Negre," by Cyril Scott. But most of our readers, who are fond of good music, will be able to recall many others. It is sufficient here to remind ourselves of the riches which are within reach, leaving each one to use them according to his or her own needs and re- quirements. What we have endeavoured to do, in this chap- ter, is to point out a few of the specific values of music; but the half has not been told. Its possi- bilities are almost endless. It may be used or it may be abused. It may do us good, or it may do us harm. But only an elementary knowledge of the nature of music, and the laws of harmony, is sufficient to convince us that, whilst it may pacify, exhilarate, inspire and afford expression for the mind, it also has the power of giving discipline, and control, and purity to the emotions. As Carlyle has said, "Music is a kind of inarticulate, unfath- omable speech, which leads us to the edge of the infinite and lets us for moments gaze into it." It 210 Nerves and the Man » ————— — — —— ^__^^^ is these occasional glimpses of the infinite that most highly tensed minds need, a sense of the greatness and beauty and grandeur of life, a feeling of kin- ship with the ultimate reality, "Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns And the round ocean and the living air." And if song and melody, and the finer forms of music generally, if these do anything to minister to the mind on this high plane, then we owe it to our- selves to pay them due attention. The discord- ant note which is often found in so many lives is unnatural. We are made for peace and calm, since we come of the calm source of all things. It is be-* cause we believe this that we have ventured to put our thoughts into these pages. It is because we know how common mental unrest is that we have given much time and attention to the way of peace and rest, as these come through healthy nerves and a disciplined mind. CHAPTER XX SELF-EDUCATION Those who have followed carefully what has been said in the foregoing chapters will have realised that, for those who are the victims of nervous trou- bles, what should be aimed at is not so much methods of treatment as a wise and rational system of life. Such people should, at the very outset, accept the peculiar temperament which is usually their lot. This may be done without consenting to the weak- nesses and limitations which are mostly associated with it. The highly strung temperament has undoubtedly serious drawbacks. It has also many compensations, since, in the lives of this special class, there are mostly present the best of materials, out of which an effective and happy personality may be built up. In such cases, however, it must never be forgotten that the first thing to do is to realise the need for self- education. Prevention is better than cure, and it is only as the mind and the nervous system are trained and developed that we can hope to be at ease and at home with ourselves. A large amount of the sorrow and misery of men's 211 212 Nerves and the Man lives, apart altogether from moral and other factors, is due to the fact that one's powers and abilities are not adjusted to one's duties and tasks. The educa- tion of oneself, therefore, becomes increasingly im- portant, not only as the road to efficiency, but also as a means to a measure of mental ease and com- posure. Further, largely owing to self -ignorance, it will l>e found, upon reflection, that much of the unrest and misery which come upon us is self-imposed. We frequently complain of our environment, of our temperament, and of our bad fortune, thus attempt- ing to explain our unrest and discontent, whilst all the time the cause of our troubles is traceable to lack of self-discipline. We imagine that given conditions other than those which we have, life would be very different. The fact is that usually the source of our unrest is not in our surroundings but in ourselves. It is always true that, for each and all of us, the kingdom of heaven is within and nowhere else. It should be said, however, that even self-disci- pline is not everything. It is not an end, but a means to greater ends. The end of all discipline is char- acter and service. Where the mind is not under the compulsion of the ideal, be the mental faculties never so well trained, there cannot be present that sense of ease and inward self-approval which are essential to a happy and effective existence. We discover and develop our real selves by discipline, and we can only enjoy the fruits of such discipline Self-Education 218 as we lose ourselves in the wider and higher inter- ests of life. As Professor Lecky finely says, "It is one of the laws of our being that by seeking in- terests rather than seeking pleasures we can best en- counter the gloom of life. By throwing their whole nature into the interests of others men most effect- ively escape introspection." Still, we can be and do nothing worthy without self -training. This is the centre and starting-point of one's life. Without a centre there can be no cir- cumference, and without a disciplined and cultured self we cannot even see life's larger interests, and so cannot enter into that peace of mind to which those subject to nervous disorders are so commonly strangers. First, then, it should be repeatedly emphasised that the keynote of a strong and radiant life is to be found in control in every direction, bodily, men- tal, moral, and especially emotional. Nearly all the appeals which are made to us from time to time, whether they come from art or philosophy or re- ligion, are mostly appeals for self-control. And this is but natural, since it is along this rough road that all true betterment comes. As we have seen elsewhere, the problem of self- discipline or self-control is largely the problem of how to develop and regulate our mental faculties. It is because we lack will-power, and because we ± allow any and every thought or feeling to invade J 214 Nerves and the Man the mind, that we suiter so many things, and are often the victims of melancholy and despair. More than any of us imagine, our whole mental outlook and general condition are determined by our subconscious selves. The stuff out of which our subconscious life is built up is the thoughts, feelings, hopes, desires, ambitions and fears which daily find an entrance into our minds. Once these enter our minds and are forgotten, and pass out of conscious- ness, they are not lost but pass into that other realm to which the term subconscious has been given. And the tragedy of life is this : that often, all unknown to ourselves, these acts of the mind, once more or less conscious and now relegated to oblivion as we think, keep rising up, clouding, harassing, and dis- turbing our present outlook and mentality. It is thus that our imagination becomes inflamed, and that we become fearful and apprehensive, the mind being troubled and affrighted by the thought shad- ows of the forgotten past. W "hat is needed is a steady, patient, daily order- ing of our thought life. Let there be a deliberate determination to get and keep the mind fairly in hand at the beginning of each day. Resolve, upon rising, that to-day shall be your day, and that noth- ing shall seriously turn your mind away from the next thing. As the day proceeds, see that you feel cheerful and are inwardly composed. Force your- self to speak kindly to some one at hand, occasion- ally, and rigorously check any tendency towards Self-Education 215 envy or jealousy or other kind of small-mindedness. Avoid scandal and all uncharitableness. At odd moments recall and mentally repeat any texts, bits of poetry, quotations or sayings which may be lying about in the mind. And, at the close of the day, ponder over what has been agreeable and good, cast- ing out of the mind the unpleasant and the bad. Along such lines we are sure much may be done to win and maintain the whip hand over the mind. Then, self-education must proceed along the line of deliberate exercise, especially exercise of the men- tal faculties. This is of the very first importance for the special class with whom we are dealing. Naturally, there is a strain of laziness in most minds, though, in the minds of those suffering from nervous troubles it is not laziness so much as in- ability that is present. In any case, the brain, like the other parts of the body, needs testing and train- ing and exercising. We strongly recommend those whom we are es- pecially addressing, therefore, to set themselves cer- tain simple and definite mental exercises for each day. There need not be, indeed there should not be, very much time or energy given to it. But such a regime^ though it be of a simple character, will prove of immense help, not only in toning up the mental faculties, but also in steadying and main- taining the balance of the nervous system. Such a regime we have already outlined in Chap- ter XII., dealing with mental control. One should 216 Nerves and the Man not attempt too much at a time. The wise thing is to do a little each day, and, if possible, at the same hour. By this means we shall not only do much to develop and maintain our mental powers, but we shall at the same time form the habit of order and method, a habit which is of vital importance to those suffering from nervous disorders. Further, self-education or self-control will become much easier if we do our best to develop and main- tain a sane and balanced view of life. The trouble with most highly strung people is that self occupies too large a place in their mental outlook. They stand at such a mental angle as to stand in their own light, and hence it is that they spend so many of their days in the shadowland of melancholy and sometimes despair. It is a good and necessary thing to be aware of oneself. But the moment our self-awareness hinders and prevents the mind from seeing life in its wider relations, it becomes a serious weakness. We should accustom the mind to look at distances, to look out at the skyline, and not to feel about things, or to judge things, without a constant sense of the vastness and greatness of human life. It is good, therefore, to ponder over such words as Universe, Heaven, Eternity, Mankind, Brotherhood, Society, Truth, Righteousness, Holiness and Peace. There is a breadth and an airiness about such words which en- larges and calms the minds of those who are beset Self-Education 217 with the cares and worries which result from undue self-consciousness. It must also be kept in mind that life is not de- signed for man's comfort and happiness. Its aim is rather the education and redemption of the race, of which each of us is but a humble unit. One's thoughts should not be directed so much towards having an easy and happy time as upon our being useful and efficient. Happiness is never an end. It is a by- product, and they know most about it who do not make it their aim. For those whom we are espe- cially addressing, therefore, it is a wise and practical philosophy to do one's best and leave the rest, to do the next thing and not the next but one, and to believe in your fellows as you believe in yourself. It is also important to educate oneself so as not to be constantly and mentally projecting one's own sensitiveness into the lives of others. Many people endure nameless miseries and suffering because, ow- ing to an inflamed imagination, they read their own highly sensitive nature into other lives. The horse which falls in the street, the cry of a little child, the dog torn and bleeding in fight, the patient in the operating-room, the agony portrayed on the picture film, and the tragedy reported in the newspaper — these and many other forms of suffering so play upon the emotions that many, lacking control, spend their days in carrying burdens and enduring tortures with which they should have little or nothing to do. The fact is that, although there is much suffering 218 Nerves and the Man in the world, there is not as much as the highly- sensitive person imagines. At any rate, it is not such as warrants the horror and shrinking with which it is associated in the minds of some. Nor should it be forgotten that much of the world's suffering is but the occasion, if not the cause, of the noblest and best that life holds. In conclusion, it should be said that the practical value of all that is said in these pages is based upon the assumption that one ardently desires to make the most and best of oneself. Ultimately it is the power of purpose in us that matters. All theory is vain unless there is the will to put theory into prac- tice. Potentially, there is sufficient will-power in each and all of us for the needs and demands of a healthy self-realisation. Moreover, it is by using the will-power which we have that we win still more. And, for our encouragement, it should be said that, once we rouse ourselves and determine to rise up and be or act, there are innumerable aids and forces at hand ready to come to our help. "All na- ture is on the side of the man who tries to rise." These influences and forces are partly within and partly without, and apart altogether from those mental forces which come to our aid, when we hon- estly try, there are moral and even spiritual agencies which come forth to help us the moment we stand erect and assume the prerogative which is our na- tural birthright.^ Self-Education 219 The mind is made for order and efficiency and peace. But it cannot put itself in order. We our- selves must do that, and, though religion and a straight life can do much to further this great end, we ourselves must take the initiative, working along common sense and psychological lines. "We do not what we ought, What we ought not we do, And lean upon the thought That chance will bring us through; But our own acts, for good or ill, are mightier powers." Begin the important and interesting work of self -education at once. Begin by believing in your- self. Every day that you persevere will bring its own reward, and every month that passes will help to reconcile you to, and more completely fit you for, your calling and lot. Do not expect too much at first, and do not expect that too quickly. Be con- tent to do your duty by your mind to-day, and to- morrow, and the next day, and, as sure as you keep a stout heart and persevere, you will rise upon the stepping-stones of your past self to higher and bet- ter things. INDEX Acland, Dr. Dyke, 39 Alcohol, 95 Ambition, 52 Argument habit, 47 Ash, Edwin, M.D., 169 Attention, 101 Bain, Professor, 26 Balfour, A. J., 134 Benson's "House of Quiet," *4 Birrell, Augustine, 134, 191 Blackie, Professor, 106 Blood pressure, 77 Bone, Florence, 193 Brain, 77 Breathing, 106 Bridge, Dr. Joseph, 202 British Association, 39 Browning, Robert, 107, 138, 191 Burns, Robert, 149 Butler, 161 Byron, 200 Colour scheme, 33 Concentration, 31, 105 Control, 40, 97, 113, 115, 116 Corporal punishment, 38 Cramming, 37 Darkness, 33 Debussy, 205 Depression, 127, 130, 137, 139 Diet, 92 Drowsiness, 74 Drummond, Henry, 130 Educational ideals, 37 Elementary Schools, 37 Eliot, George, 149 Emerson, 26 Emotion, 48, 158 Energy, 19 English families, 91 English phlegm, 46 Exercise, 90 Expression, 45 Carlyle, Thomas, 86, 185, 209 Chaminade, 206 Chaplin, Charlie, 144 Cheerfulness, 127 Chesterton, G. K., 26 Chomet, Dr., 208 Chopin, 206, 209 Coleridge, 153 Collins, Wilkie, 84 146* Fatigue, 42, 75 Fears, 32, 121 Fears of childhood, 40 Fletcher, Horace, 93 Flower Garden, 195 Frederick the Great, 89 Freud, 143 Gardening, 194 Gates, Professor Elmer, 45 221 222 Index German towns, 73 Gibbon, 163 Gladstone, 93 Golf, 90, 156 Green, J. R., 162 Grieg, 205 Grossmith, George and Weedon, 134 Haberton, John, 153 Hamerton, 60 Hamlet's nerves, 21 Hardy, Thomas, 134 Harris, Professor D. Fraser, 44> 99 Harte, Bret, 151 Health habits, 86 Heller, 204 Henley, 61, 160 Heredity, 35 Histologists, 43 Hobbies, 191 Hole, Dean, 194 Holiday-making, 60, 68 Homework, 39 Impulses, 166 Indecision, 31 Inhibition, 99, 148 Intellectual strain, 50 Interest, 187 Interval rest, 68 Introspection, 25 James, Professor, 65, 127, 204 Jerome, Jerome K., 151 Jewish law, 71 Johnson, Dr., 199 Kelman, John, 133 King, Henry IV., 74 Kipling, Rudyard, 167 Lancet, 128 Lauder, Harry, 150 Laughter, 128, 140 Law of rhythm, 79 Law of strain, 50 Lecky, Professor, 213 Leipsic, 73 Liszt, 206 Longfellow, 75, £3, 107 Loss of memory, 30 Lowell, J. R., 158 Macdowell, 206 Medical books, 26 Milton, John, 107 Modesty, 121 Moods, 177 Moore, 177 Moral laxity, 124 Moral strain, 50, 51 Morley, John, 26 Morris, Lewis, 165 Music, 107 Music and emotion, 197 Myers, Charles S., 70 Nerve fibres, 17 Nerve strain, 50 Nerve-end organs, 17 Nervous Breakdown, 13, 19, 22 Nervous system, 17 Neurasthenia, 20, 21 Neurone, 17 Neurosis, 18 Newman, John Henry, 200 Omar Khayyam, 133 Overpressure, 39 "Oversoul," 160 Patrick, Dr. G. T. W., 143 Pauses, 69 Index 223 Plants, 195 Plato, 197 Poise and serenity, 125 Psychology of crowd, 150 Psychosis, 18 Public Schools, 37 Punchy 134, 141 Quixote, Don, 134 Reading, 132 Religion, 66, 125 Reserves, 24 Rest, 48, 63 Restraint, 47 Roses, 195 Rostrevor, George, 154 Ruskin, John, 107, 130 St. Paul, 131, 155 Scott, Cyril, 206 Self-confidence, 32 Self-consciousness, 118 Self-education, 211 Self-suggestion, 169 Selfridge's Stores, 19 Sense of inferiority, 123 Sense of proportion, 24 Shakespeare, 107 Shell-shock, 5$ Shelley, 86 Sibelius, 209 Sleep, 29, 74, 75 Social strain, 50, 56 Soluble poisons, 44 Spencer, Herbert, 201 Spoonerism, 145 Starters and stayers, 24 Stevenson, R. L., 65, 86, 133» J 36, 138 Sully, Professor, 141 Teachers, 38 Tendencies, 36 Tennyson, 35, 75, 107, 199, 206 Tobacco, 95 Toxins, 75 Twain, Mark, 151 Voice control, 115 Walking barometer, 23 Wallace, Dr. Robertson, 98 Ward, Artemus, 151 Whittier, 83 Wilcox, Ella Wheeler, 147 Will, 45, 129, 155 Words, 179 Wordsworth, 59, 161 Work, 184 Worry, 54 v <\ v V «V ■ -> ^ 5^ \ \ T- * - % o X f „% *0 v s. -^. >* V . * / v^ "~ J* ^ *W ■ ^ s ,1- x •\ ^ ■%. - V' < 2 % ^ ^ \^ V- '