Everyone knows what it is to start a piece of work, either intellectual or muscular, feeling stale—or "cold," as an Adirondack guide once put it to me. And everybody knows what it is to warm up to his job. The process of warming up gets particularly striking in the phenomena known as second wind. On usual occasions we make a practice of stopping an occupation as soon as we meet the first effective layer (so to call it) of fatigue. We have then walked, played, or worked enough, so we desist. That amount of fatigue is an efficacious obstruction on this side of which our usual life is cast.
But if an unusual necessity forces us to press onward, a surprising thing occurs. The fatigue gets worse up to a certain critical point, when gradually it passes away, and we are fresher than before. We have evidently tapped a level of new energy, masked until then by the fatigue obstacle usually obeyed. There may be layer after layer of this experience. A third and fourth wind may supervene. Mental activity shows the phenomenon as well as physical, and in exceptional cases we may find, beyond the very extremity of fatigue distress, amounts of ease and power that we never dreamed ourselves to own—sources of strength habitually not taxed at all, because habitually we never push through the obstruction, never pass those early critical points.
He then states what has come to be called the law of reserve energy.
It is evident that our organism has stored up reserves of energy that are ordinarily not called upon, but that may be called upon; deeper and deeper strata of combustion or explosible material, discontinuously arranged, but ready for use for any one who probes so deep, and repairing themselves by rest as well as do the superficial strata.
There is, then, a marvelous reserve power in men and women which can be used in emergencies and in times of severe strain, to enable men and women to accomplish what looks impossible and which has often contradicted the prognosis of the physician. History is full of applications of this law which, however, does not come into action, unless especially called. Men and women may die simply because they give up the struggle. Men and women who will not give up seem able to overcome severe illness that would take away ordinary people. It has often been said that tuberculosis takes only the quitters and that men of character constitute the typically favorable patients for tuberculosis sanatoria. Psychology is now getting at the explanation of many events that were formerly quite inexplicable. The science has come to recognize the reservoir of reserve energy in human nature which may be tapped under special favoring circumstances. The physicians of the past have often succeeded in tapping it deliberately as well as unconsciously. There is large room, however, for the further development of medicine along this line, to the great advantage of therapeutics and probably the most promising field at the present time in view in therapy lies in this direction. Hence the necessity for more deliberate conscious use of it in every possible suitable form.
CHAPTER II
UNFAVORABLE MENTAL INFLUENCE
Much as may be accomplished by psychotherapeutics through favorable mental influence—the modifying of the mental attitude towards disease, diversions of mind from aches and pains, concentration of attention on subjects apart from ailments—much more may be done by removing any unfavorable mental influence. This of itself produces symptoms either by interfering with normal processes through surveillance of them, or by so exaggerating, through attention to them, slight symptoms that may be present that patients are made quite miserable, though there is no adequate physical cause for their condition. Perhaps the most striking example that we have of unfavorable mental influence as productive of the persuasion that disease is present, is familiar to every physician who is close to medical students when they are first introduced to the symptoms of disease. It is almost a rule that certain members of the class immediately conclude that they are suffering from one or more of the symptoms which they are studying, and that, therefore, they must have the diseases with which the symptoms are associated. If at this time they walk on the shady side of a street on an autumn day and have a little shivery feeling, or when they get into the sun they feel a glow, these two very normal feelings are exaggerated into chilliness and fever, and the student has to go to his professor to have his mental malaria or typhoid treated. To the student, his symptoms are for the moment very real, and unless someone in whom he has confidence reassures him, his discomfort will probably continue for some time.
Pathological Suggestion.—In a word, suggestions of disease are much easier to take than is usually imagined, and if people read or hear much about diseases they are likely to jump to the conclusion that they are sufferers. Under present conditions there are many more such sinister suggestions put before people than used to be the case. The newspapers are constantly reporting curious cases and rare diseases, and usually those of absolutely unfavorable prognosis and inevitably fatal termination are particularly dilated on. Pathology has become a source of many sensations, until the community generally has come to eke out the thrills of the day's news by reading about fatal diseases and fatal injuries, whenever murder and suicide sensations fail. As a consequence, many become persuaded that they are suffering from forms of disease of which they have not a symptom, and, not infrequently, the wonderful cures that are reported in the newspapers consist of nothing more than recoveries from these imaginary ills into which people have suggested themselves as the result of reading about morbid states.
A typical illustration of the power of the mind to influence the body unfavorably is recognized in many of the comic stories that have had a vogue in recent years. Their underlying thought is that if a man is only told often enough, and by a number of different people, that he does not look well, or if he is even asked a little solicitously as to whether he feels well or not, he will almost invariably begin to persuade himself that there must be something the matter with him. After a time, under the influence of this unfavorable suggestion, he begins to feel tired and is likely to think that he cannot go on with his work. When meal time comes his appetite fails him. A victim has been even known to go home and send for the doctor, persuaded that there is something the matter, simply because a series of friends, for a joke, or sometimes through a mistake, have insisted on asking him questions that called attention to his state of health. Few men are strong enough to stand the influence of unfavorable suggestion of this kind, if it is frequently repeated. More direct forms of suggestion of disease have, of course, even greater effects. Many a man goes to a quack only feeling a little out of sorts and wanting to reassure himself, but easily becomes persuaded that there is something serious the matter with him.
Unfavorable Suggestion in Ancient Times.—This unfavorable influence of the mind on the body, even to the extent of the production of disease by means of suggestion, was recognized by the ancients. They knew and wrote of hypochondriasis and, indeed, they invented the term. In many of these cases the seat of auto-suggestion is supposed to be the digestive organs and the localization of the discomfort is in the hypochondria, that is, in the upper abdominal region. The Grecian writers seemed to recognize clearly that the symptoms were the result of thinking over much about self and concentration of attention upon unfavorable suggestions.
Plato, in the "Republic," says:
In former days the guild of Asclepius did not practice our present system of medicine, which may be said, he declares, to educate diseases. He cites the example of Herodicus who, "being