With the night terrors left untreated psychologically, subse_Handicaps of Childhood

ailments, perhaps lifelong invalidism, may further penalise the hapless

victim of parental thoughtlessness. I am reminded of a certain patient

of Doctor Sidis's, a woman afflicted with neurotic ills up to the age

of sixty, and, when she first consulted the New England specialist,

displaying a most complicated set of disease symptoms. She had kidney

trouble, stomach trouble, frequent headaches, insomnia, and general

nervousness. In especial, she suffered from an obsessive fear of becoming

insane. This fear, at times, was so extreme that she would walk up and

down her room night after night, "like an animal in a cage," to use

Doctor Sidis's expressive phrase. Repeated examinations by different

physicians had failed to bring to light any evidences of organic

disease of stomach, kidneys, or brain, and a diagnosis of hysteria had

finally been made. Consequently, it became Doctor Sidis's special task

to endeavour to get at these latent memory-images that had acted with

disintegrative power on the mental and bodily processes, recall them to

conscious remembrance, and, by suggestive treatment, rob them of their

disease-producing potency.

Step by step, by a method of psychological analysis of his own invention,

he took his patient back through her life history. He found that, in

middle life, she had had several distressing experiences, but none of them

adequate to account for her hysteria. Always, there remained an obscure

element which did not become clearly outlined until, in the course of the

analysis, childhood memories began to emerge. Then it appeared that there

had been a period of night terrors, the source of which was definitely

traced to a shock experienced at the age of five. At that age, through

some mischance, the patient had been allowed to spend some time with an

insane woman who was in a maniacal state.

Of a sensitive nervous organisation to begin with, she was overwhelmed

by this experience. She could not get the image of the insane woman out

of her mind, and the fearful thought kept coming again and again to her,

"Do little girls ever go insane?" Then followed the night terrors, to

be "outgrown" in due course. But the analysis revealed that, though the

memory of her experience with the insane woman had gradually faded from

conscious recollection, it had never been subconsciously forgotten. Even

now, fifty-five years later, she still saw this woman in her dreams.

It was the baneful influence of this shock that had given rise to her

obsessive fear of insanity and had prepared the ground for the condition

of abnormal suggestibility making possible the hysterical imitation of

organic kidney and stomach disease. As was proved by the outcome of

Doctor Sidis's psychotherapeutic treatment.

Now the question comes: If night terrors are so portentous a

danger-signal, how prevent the development of the mentally disturbed and

nervously strained condition which they indicate? This question has,

perhaps, been sufficiently answered in previous chapters. Here I would

simply reaffirm that emotional control is the great object to be kept

steadily in view. It is, indeed, significant that night terrors are most

likely to appear in children having a nervous, excitable father or mother.

The emotionality, the chronic worrying and anxiety of the parent infect

the child by the power of psychic contagion and make him fall an easy prey

to any disquieting experience.

And if, despite well-ordered moral training and the benign influence of

a good parental example, the child shows a tendency to develop night

terrors--what then? Well, here is how one psychologically enlightened

parent nipped in the bud a fear-bred condition that might have resulted

in night terrors or in some specific nervous ailment of the waking life:

"For several weeks my boy, three and a half years old, had been visiting

the zoölogical garden every afternoon, in the company of a French maid

of exceptionally forceful character, and apparently free from the

superstitiousness of the average nurse. For a long time all went well,

until one evening the boy began to cry soon after he was left for the

night. At this unusual occurrence, I mounted the stairs and inquired the

cause of the boy's trouble.

"He said there were lions in the house and that he did not want to stay

alone, as he was afraid they would eat him. The source of the idea had

been that the lions had roared more loudly than usual on that particular

afternoon, and he had been much impressed, standing for some time quite

motionless before the cage, though terrified. I soon convinced the boy

that the lions had to remain in their cages, and could not get out; hence,

there were none in the house, so that there was no occasion to fear. Of

course, it was first necessary to give him the feeling of security gained

by embracing me; and, secondly, to begin the conversation by talking of

something else--I have forgotten what.

"In this way the state of terror was dismissed, and the feeling of

protection was induced before we returned to the subject of the lions.

Then we made rather a joke of the funny roaring of the lions before we

had finished, and he finally lay down, with the solemn purpose to go

to sleep and think, as I suggested, of the tramcars and motors passing

outside his open window. It was all very simple substitution, but it was

the prevention of what might have become a serious fear-psychosis if

injudiciously handled."[18]

It should be added that special need for training in emotional control is

indicated if a child begins to be troubled, not by night terrors, but by

another and more common childhood malady--somnambulism. The child who

talks or walks in his sleep, like the child attacked by night terrors,

is, for some reason, nervously unstrung; and, it may confidently be said,

is usually unstrung because of the presence in his mind of disquieting

ideas, conscious or subconscious. On this account, the parent should not

be satisfied with the measures ordinarily employed in dealing with both

night terrors and somnambulism--the prescribing of tonics and sedatives,

outdoor exercise, abstinence from tea and coffee, reduction in meat in

the diet, and so forth. Undeniably, these measures often result in a

complete cessation of the nocturnal symptoms. But, even if, as a result

of medication, exercise, and dieting, the disquieting ideas causing the

symptoms no longer manifest their presence by the attacks that have

alarmed the parents, these ideas still are left in the mind, perchance to

cause still more alarming symptoms later. Accordingly, the really prudent

parent, besides dieting his child, will endeavour to get at the mental

source of trouble.

Sometimes he can do this by closely observing the behaviour of the child

in his waking moments, and the trend of his waking thoughts. Or he can

do it by gaining the child's confidence and questioning him as to any

fears, worries, or griefs that may be disturbing him. If, as will often

happen, the child insists, it may be in all sincerity, that nothing

is troubling him, there is yet another avenue of information open to

the parent--namely, by questioning the child about his dreams. Through

studying his dreams, in fact, it is possible to gain clearer insight into

his mental life than perhaps by any other means.

Again and again, as we have seen, the modern psychologist has made use of

dream-analysis with illuminating results. Parents can and should similarly

analyse their children's dreams. And I feel justified in predicting that

parents of the future, alert to detect and correct any undesirable trends

in their children's mental and moral development, will make frequent use

of dream-analysis as an aid in successful child-rearing.

The helpfulness of dream-analysis to parents comes from the fact that the

dreams of children usually relate either to things which the children

dread, or things which they desire. This is also true of the dreams of

adults, as shown by the analysis of thousands of dreams. In the case of

adults, however, the fear or the desire mirrored by the dream is nearly

always masked by the variety and seeming absurdity or incongruity of the

dream-images. As when, for example, a complicated, fantastic dream of

adventure in an out-of-the-way part of the world is found, on examination,

to be connected with a secret longing for marriage. Accordingly, prolonged

and tedious analysis is often needed to get at the true meaning of an

adult's dreams. In the case of children's dreams, the opposite is the

rule. There is little repression or distortion, the dream dealing directly

with what is uppermost in the dreamer's waking mind, and emphasising the

fears or fulfilling the wishes of his waking life.

This is what makes dream-analysis both easy and profitable to parents.

Once aware of the wish-fulfilling rôle of dreams, no parent need

experience difficulty in interpretation if his small boy reports to him a

series of dreams like the following:

"It was after school, and I went with other boys to a candy store, and the

storekeeper told us we could have anything we wanted. We had a fine time.

I filled my pockets with chocolates and caramels and peanut candy, besides

what I ate while I was in the store.

"I was at a party, and there was plenty to eat and drink. We had

sandwiches and lemonade, ice cream and cake. After it was over, they told

us we could take away all the food that was not eaten.

"There was a fire in the next street, and I went to see the firemen at

work. It was rainy and cold, and somebody brought out coffee and cake for

the firemen. There was more than they could eat, so they gave me some."

Dreamed by a small boy living in a poor home, dreams like these would be

of a pathetic, rather than sinister, import. For they would represent

the imaginary fulfilment of wishes unrealisable in the waking life, and

would thus be a subconscious protest against the cramping limitations

of poverty. Even so, whether the youthful dreamer were the son of poor

parents or the son of parents comfortably circumstanced, it would be

an unescapable inference that, when awake, he was inclined to think

overmuch of his stomach. Wherefore, dreams like these, if dreamed with

any frequency, would unmistakably suggest the desirability of training to

check a tendency to gluttony and greed.

The frequency with which dreams of a given type are dreamed has, indeed,

much to do with their significance as indicators of character defects. An

occasional dream of gorging one's self--or, say, of being the centre of

attraction at an evening party--would not be valid ground for indicting a

little boy of greed, or a little girl of vanity. But, if such dreams are

habitual, or if, despite a seeming variety in the dreams reported by son

or daughter, there is discernible an undercurrent of desires incompatible

with strength and beauty of character, then the wise parent will not

delay in supplementing dream study by educational measures to correct the

indicated defects.

And, as emphasised by the experiences of many of the youthful nervous

patients whose case-histories have been given in this book, dream-analysis

should particularly be utilised to help children who--being free from

adenoids, eye-strain, or other adverse physical conditions--show a sudden

and unfavourable change in disposition. Some cause of emotional stress is

undoubtedly present, and it may be taken for granted that the child will

betray, through the content of his dreams, what is troubling his mind.

Dream-analysis will thus give insight into secret jealousies, secret

desires, secret fears, secret mental conflicts of many kinds, that are

provocative both of unfavourable changes in character and of outright ill

health.

One such conflict, to which I have already referred when discussing the

handicap of sulkiness, is conflict over sex questions. Frequently, to the

parents' astonishment, it will be found that the actual cause of timidity,

reticence, moodiness, or depression of spirits in a formerly happy child,

is a mental conflict due to the child's vain endeavours to work out fully

satisfactory answers to delicate questions which the parents have not

answered when put to them by the child, or have answered in an evasive

fashion. Children are far more discerning than most parents give them

credit for being. Also, they often are more interested than most parents

suppose in some of the fundamental problems of existence--and especially

the problem of their own nature and origin. The scientific study of

dreams, indeed, has furnished an additional and powerful argument against

the common practice among parents of veiling in mystery or concealing with

well-intentioned falsehoods the facts of birth and of sex.

But let me quote, at this point, the findings of an English medical

psychologist, Doctor Ernest Jones, of London, who has specially studied

the reactions of children to the policy of silence and mystification

regarding sex matters.

"The extent to which such matters occupy the mind of the young child,"

says Doctor Jones, "is always underestimated by adults, and is impossible

to determine by a casual examination, for, on the one hand, the later

memories for these years are always deficient and erroneous, and, on the

other hand, this aspect of the child's mind is rarely accessible to direct

inquiry, on account of the barrier always existing on the subject between

child and adult. As the child grows older, the desires and tendencies in

question meet with such obstacles as an increasing sense of shame, guilt,

wrongness, remorse, and so on, and are fought against by the child, who

now half-consciously strives to get away from them, to forget them, or,

as it is technically termed, to "repress" them. The repressed mental

processes are later thus forgotten, and, along with them, a major part of

the mental experiences associated with them in time. This is the reason

why so little of early childhood life can be recalled by the adult.

"The desires, thoughts, impulses, tendencies, and wishes thus repressed do

not, however, die; they live on, but come to expression in other forms.

Their energy is directed along more useful paths, a process known as

"sublimation," and upon the extent and kind of this sublimation depends a

great deal of the future interests and activities of the individual."[19]

Under certain conditions, instead of smooth, successful sublimation,

there may be mental conflict, with nervous or mental maladies as a

possible result. To this undesirable outcome the parental course sometimes

contributes materially. Again, I quote Doctor Jones:

"It is almost a regular occurrence for children of the age of four or five

to turn from their parents, to withdraw into themselves, and to pursue

private speculations about the topics concerning which they have been

denied information, whether by a direct refusal or by evasion. Phantasies

of bitter resentment against the parent commonly occur at this time, and

often form the basis not only of a later want of confidence, or even a

more or less veiled hostility as regards the parents, but also of various

subsequent disharmonies, neurotic disturbances, and so forth."

Of course, readers of these pages scarcely need to be reminded, conflict

over questions of birth and sex is only one form of emotional stress

that may occasion night terrors, somnambulism, changes in character, and

unmistakable nervous ailments. Whatever the stress, it will be indicated

by the child's dreams, either directly or symbolically. Which, of itself,

is abundant reason for parents to gain knowledge of at least the chief

principles of scientific dream-interpretation.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 17: _Archives of Pediatrics_, December, 1914.]

[Footnote 18: _Archives of Pediatrics_, December, 1914.]

[Footnote 19: _The Journal of Educational Psychology_, November, 1910.]

IN CONCLUSION

From what has been said in the foregoing pages, it is an irresistible

inference that the greatest of all handicaps a child can have, short

of being born hopelessly deficient, is to be born into a home where he

will be exposed to mind-deadening or emotion-stressing influences--a

home where he will receive neither adequate mental stimulus nor adequate

moral training. Under such circumstances, so profound is the influence

of the early environment, his growth to a normal manhood is impossible,

unless other and more favourable influences from outside the home affect

him with sufficient force to offset the home surroundings. Fortunately,

this happens in many cases, but, as hospital, asylum, and court records

testify in sad abundance, in many cases the adverse home environment

proves indeed decisive.

And, on the opposite, that child is unquestionably getting the best

possible start in life who is born of parents appreciative of his mental

needs, sincerely devoted to him, but not over-devoted, watchful of his

physical health and alert to prevent him from becoming a slave to his

emotions. The purpose of both this book and its predecessor, "Psychology

and Parenthood," has been to help this latter class of parents and,

perchance, to awaken other parents to the need for giving more care and

intelligent attention to their children than they have hitherto been doing.

Certainly, the discoveries of modern psychology and physiology have made

it increasingly evident that the business of child-rearing is, of all

businesses, far and away the most important to the race. And it is a

business that has become more important than it ever was in the past,

because of the greater demands made on human mentality, and the more

numerous sources of stress on human emotionality that are involved in the

increasing complexity of civilised life. Either the clock of progress must

be stopped and the world revert to more primitive modes of living, or

else the men and women of the days to come must be conditioned, through

wiser educational methods that begin in the first years of life, to adapt

themselves more smoothly to the modern environment.

We do not want to stop the clock of progress. But neither could we wish

to see the people of the world degenerate into a race of psychasthenes,

neurasthenes, and otherwise mentally or nervously disorganised men and

women. Happily, means of attaining smoother adaptation, of increasing

both the mental vigour and the nervous resistance of the race are now

available. They are available, thanks chiefly to the labours of the

medical psychologists. And it is my hope that, by stressing the adaptatory

elements in their discoveries and presenting them concretely to the lay

reader, I may have contributed something to promote appreciation of these

elements by parents in general, and appropriate action for the benefit of

the growing generation. First and last, be it clearly understood, it is

on the development of a really efficient parenthood that the future of

society depends.

INDEX

Adenoids, and mental backwardness, 23, 26;

and sulkiness, 70-71.

Anger, effects of, 87-92.

Ayres, L. P., 6, 7, 24.

Bashfulness, 167-187;

two types of, 171-172;

causes, 171-176;

cure, 177-186;

prevention, 186-187, 202-203.

Bechterew, W., 165, 180-181, 185.

Binet, A., 3, 5, 9.

Binet-Simon tests, 9-10, 13-17.

Bohannon, E. W., 41-46, 48-49.

Brill, A. A., 47, 58, 182-184, 234-237, 244-248, 251, 255-257.

Cannon, W. B., 90, 91, 93.

Cases:

Abnormal irritability, 251-253.

Abnormal timidity, 253-255.

Bashfulness, 165-169, 177-185.

Binet's dullard, 3-4.

Binet-Simon experiments, 13-18.

Crime from jealousy, 99-101.

Curable dullness, 11-13, 18-19, 21-24, 25-28, 70-71.

"Day terrors," 276-278.

Fear of blood, 255-258.

Fear of insanity, 284-287.

Hysteria from jealousy, 103-105.

Hysterical paralysis, 139-147

Indecision, 188-191, 195-198.

Jealous dullards, 113-114.

Jealousy of mother, 116-118.

Mental backwardness from physical causes, 21-24, 25-28.

Nervous depression, 134-139.

Nervous dullards, 11-13.

"Night terrors," 273-274, 280-283, 284-287.

Obsession of sin, 266-267.

Obsession to murder, 122-123.

Obsession to torture, 244-249.

"Only children," 37-40, 50-51, 54-55.

Pathological lying, 263-265.

Physiology of emotions, 88-89, 91, 93-94.

Stammering, 211-212, 214-215, 218-220, 226-237.

Sulkiness, 67-69, 70-71, 72-73, 77-79.

Unemployability, 63-65.

Children's lies, 119-121, 263-265.

Chorea, 74-75.

Chubb, P., 250.

Coriat, I. H., 48, 226_n_, 230-233.

Cornman, O. P., 5, 7.

Crime, causes and prevention, 155-157.

Cruelty, sexual element in, 160.

Dark, fear of the, 258-260.

Darwin, C., 107, 172.

Dattner, B., 226-230.

Davidson, P. E., 28.

"Day terrors", 276-279.

Dearborn, G. V. N., 95.

Dieffenbach, J. F., 207, 208, 209, 238.

Divorce, statistics of, 152-153;

causes, 154-155, 159.

Dream-analysis, 117, 135, 252, 291-295.

Dubois, P., 79.

Ellis, H., 47, 84-85, 160.

Exercise, and moral control, 200-201.

Eye-strain, and mental backwardness, 26;

and sulkiness, 72-73.

Fairy tales, 243-265;

harmful effects, 244-249, 251-261;

good effects, 249-251, 263, 265;

the war and, 261-262.

Favorite child, the, 55-59.

Feeble-mindedness. See Mental backwardness.

Fiske, C. H., 91.

Fresh air, and moral control, 200.

Freud, S., 234.

Gesell, A. L., 107.

Hall, G. S., 120, 263-265.

Hartenberg, P., 168, 184.

Holmes, A., 18.

Hypnotism, 229, 232.

Imitation, 79-80.

With the night terrors left untreated psychologically, subsequent nervous