CHAPTER II.

Treatment.

In discussing the question of treatment we do not propose to deal with

general therapeutic measures which every physician in charge of nervous

or mental patients is hardly likely to neglect.[24] The importance of a

generous and easily digested dietary is generally recognised: as also

is the need for quiet and congenial surroundings, and for shielding

patients from disturbances, such as noises and the sight of wounded,

which are likely to evoke painful emotions and vivid memories of their

experiences at the front. It is also obviously important that the

physician should deal promptly and discreetly with any bodily ailments

from which the patient is suffering, being careful neither to minimise

their gravity and so give him any reason for the grievance that he

is not receiving proper attention, nor by exaggerating them to add

this anxiety to his other troubles.[25] These are questions which may

confidently be left to the discretion of the physician in charge.

_Firmness and Sympathy._

But there are certain other therapeutic measures commonly recommended

in text-books for application in the cases of patients suffering from

neurasthenic and hysterical troubles, which cannot be thus summarily

dismissed. As many of these patients are irritable and childishly

peevish, it is necessary that they should be treated with sympathetic

firmness, tact and insight. But, unfortunately, the words “firmness”

and “sympathy” are interpreted in a great variety of ways. While it is

important, for purely therapeutic reasons, that discipline should be

maintained, and that when the physician has decided what he considers

the proper treatment for the patient this should be rigorously carried

out, it is manifestly disturbing and injurious in many cases for the

officer to insist upon all the exacting details of military rules and

regulations. For the mentally healthy soldier, obedience to stern and

even harshly rigid regulations is often vitally important; but an

attempt by a medical officer to treat a ward of neurasthenic patients

in this way usually has disastrous results.

Quite apart, however, from the military aspects of the case, the

physician, without really investigating the history of a patient,

may label his trouble “hysteria” and forthwith adopt a course of

“firmness.” He may assume the attitude of doubting the genuineness

of symptoms which are very real to the sufferer. Under the plea of

helping to cure the patient the officer may assure him that there is

nothing much the matter with him and that if he tries he will soon be

all right. Such advice may be justifiable if based on a real insight

into the state of the individual sufferer, but this knowledge can be

gained only by a patient investigation of the cause of his trouble.

If the advice is given without this insight, it is a mere shot in the

dark. The fact that the device succeeds in a certain number of cases

is no excuse for its general adoption. And when it “misfires” no one

realises the fact more quickly than the patient himself. He realises

that the officer does not appreciate his condition and his confidence

is thereby destroyed.

It is useful, too, to consider for a moment the nature of treatment by

“sympathy.” When we used the phrase “sympathetic firmness” we intended

to indicate the insistence upon a strict observance of such methods of

treatment as a real insight into the patient’s condition may suggest.

The word “sympathy” was used in its literal sense of “feeling with”

the sufferer. But there is no class of patients upon whom sympathy

of the injudicious kind is more prone to work serious harm than the

psychoneurotic. The knowledge of this fact is often the excuse for the

adoption of the opposite attitude and the prescription of “firmness”

which, as we have seen, may be equally unintelligent and injudicious.

But sympathy of the injudicious kind is not _real_ sympathy. For unless

the sympathiser has a true appreciation of the patient’s condition,

and can look at things from his point of view, he cannot really feel

_with_ the sufferer. The latter may arouse in the would-be sympathiser

tender emotions and sympathetic “pain,” but unless the sympathiser

have insight, the pain, to put it crudely, is not likely to be “in

the same place” as that of the patient. Such misplaced emotion and

false sympathy, whether on the part of the doctor, the nurse, or the

patient’s relations, may do much harm.

In mild cases of mental trouble, however, where the patient still

retains a goodly portion of self-confidence and self-respect, this

“petting” variety of sympathy may sometimes be effective. Such a

patient may be cheered up by the presence of people sufficiently

interested in him to be sorry for his condition; and it may help him

to look on the brighter side of things and to forget his worries and

anxieties. But often it is apt, by suggestion, to aggravate his

troubles or even to discourage him from trying to recover.[26] Perhaps

it would be more accurate to say that such treatment gives him no

inducement to get better.

There are still not a few physicians who regard the group of functional

troubles commonly labelled “hysteria” as something closely akin to

malingering. If it would not be considered invidious we could quote

the opinions of well-known physicians published within the last five

years, suggesting that there is no real line of demarcation. (It is not

uncommon to meet the expression “_detecting_,” instead of _diagnosing_

hysteria.)

But even among those who regard these serious affections as something

more than mere simulation there is a tendency to look upon any form

of sympathy as a dangerous pandering to the patient’s lack of will

power.[27]

This attitude often finds expression in leaving the patient alone to

get better by his own efforts, or in suggesting to him that he is not

so ill as he thinks he is, and that all he needs is some work to occupy

his attention.

The attempt is often made to justify such methods by the plea that

it is “bad for the patient to talk to him of his worries.” But how

a physician is to rid a patient of the very root of all his trouble

without first discovering and then discussing it with him is not

apparent. Nor, again, is it any more rational merely to tell a man who

is weighed down with some very real anxiety to “cheer up,” or to “work

in the garden,” or “take a walking tour.”

We are not maintaining that such methods do not often meet with

success in the case of many patients who are only mildly affected and

earnestly want to get better. But experience shows that such advice is

often fraught with danger, and, in severe cases of mental affection

is worse than useless. The experience of those physicians who have

been treating such patients with sympathetic insight during the last

two years affords a striking condemnation of the theory that it is

generally “bad to talk to them of their worries.” It has repeatedly

happened that as soon as the patient was asked about his troubles he

made a full statement of all that was troubling him and was obviously

relieved to confess his worries to someone who took an intelligent

interest in his welfare.

In many cases the mere unburdening of this weight of anxiety and the

removal by the physician of quite trivial misunderstandings which were

the original causes of it, were sufficient to cheer up the patient and

to start him on the way to complete recovery. Yet many of these men had

been inmates of a series of hospitals in which no attempt had been made

to discover what was the real source of all the trouble. Thus to their

other worries and anxieties was added the real additional grievance

that they were being neglected and were of no account. In many cases

this constituted a serious aggravation of the patient’s mental

disturbance and encouraged him to believe that his state was already

beyond help.

Those physicians who look upon such milder psychoses as varieties of

simulation should be reminded that the methods we have just mentioned

are not often likely to be effective in cases of real malingering.

In discussing the therapeutic use of “firmness” we have not thought it

necessary to mention those applications of this method which at times

are practised by combatant officers at the front. The use of military

authority to suppress the minor manifestations of nervousness, or the

resort to such expedients as unexpectedly firing off a gun alongside

a man afflicted with functional deafness, are merely examples of the

application of “suggestion.” They are akin to the use of “firmness”

by the physician who has not investigated the cause of the patient’s

trouble. The results of such expedients are as erratic in the one case

as in the other. But there is no need for us to discuss this practice

further, except to add that the knowledge that such “treatment by

military authority” has been tried before, still further diminishes the

justification for resorting to such measures when the patient reaches

the home hospital.

_Isolation._ Many physicians regard isolation as an appropriate

method of treatment for soldiers suffering from shock, and they urge

in justification of such a procedure the success which often attends

its use in civil cases. We do not deny the utility of isolation for

suitable cases, and success has attended its use when the patient’s

condition obviously required it. But the circumstances which were

responsible for causing the mental disturbance in the soldier may be of

a totally different nature from those which have upset the civilian;

and therapeutic measures which may be appropriate in eliminating the

civilian’s sources of irritation might be wholly unsuitable, if not

positively harmful, in the case of soldiers.

It cannot be too strongly emphasised in connection with this subject

that most of the theory and practice of treating hysteria by isolation

has been developed in civil life, and in very many cases with reference

to well-to-do women living in the lap of luxury. When such persons

develop hysterical symptoms, some sources of irritation in the home

or the social environment are often responsible. By isolation the

patient is removed from the noxious influence of both domestic worries

and mistaken sympathy; his or her whims and fancies are compulsorily

subordinated by self-discipline and consideration for others. At

home it is impossible satisfactorily to enforce such measures and

the attempt to do so will almost inevitably fail, because sympathy,

curiosity and anxiety on the part of various relatives hinder the

attainment of these objects. By isolation the patient is removed from

these unfavourable psychical influences. Through the freedom from

such disturbing stimuli, the abnormally intense reaction of the mind

is reduced. And in many patients of this class the desire to be cured

or to be active, which is produced by the boredom of isolation, works

favourably.[28]

But in most soldiers the circumstances are altogether different. In

the first place, the patient secures the change of surroundings by his

removal from the trenches to the hospital. Isolation, therefore, can

hardly be justified on that score. At the same time, the removal to a

military hospital at any rate should obviate all danger of his being

pestered by foolish relatives and friends with their mistaken sympathy

or excessive attention. And as regards the importance of discipline

and routine, the soldier is in a position very different from that of

the wealthy society lady, for he has already been subjected to such

training.

In some instances, however, just as in the civil cases, the boredom of

isolation may produce the good effects noted above. But there is the

corresponding disadvantage that if you isolate a man and put a special

nurse to look after him it is impossible to convince him that his case

is not serious. It may, indeed, help him to persuade himself that he

is really going insane. As a matter of experience, it is found that

very many men cannot stand isolation for long; they feel that they

must break out, even if they realise that punishment is certain for

doing so. The conversation of patients who are undergoing treatment

by isolation is often perfectly frank about it. They tell the medical

officer they will break out at the first opportunity; that the few

hours of freedom would more than compensate for the punishment which

would come afterwards. Again, it must be apparent that, when the

trouble is due in any considerable measure to the re-awakening of

emotions linked up with some painful earlier experience, isolation

is not likely to be effective in many cases, and may be definitely

harmful. Neither should it be forgotten that such measures fail to

isolate the patient from his worst enemy, himself.

Even in those cases in which it is useful, isolation, if unduly

prolonged, may spoil its own good effects. It may so accustom the

patient to a solitary mode of existence that the presence of other

persons may make him irritable when at the end of his time of seclusion

he is compelled to associate with his fellows.

There is another fact which has to be taken into consideration—and

this applies especially in civil practice, where the patient or his

family have to pay for the treatment. We refer to the expensiveness

of treatment by isolation. Unless it can be shown that it is the

best or the only hopeful method to adopt, the physician must feel

some hesitancy in the majority of cases, in prescribing such costly

measures.[29]

Déjerine and Gauckler[30] have given an admirable account of the use

of isolation in the treatment of neurasthenia and hysteria. They are

careful to point out, however, that even in the case of civilian

patients, with whom of course their treatise is concerned, “isolation,

even accompanied by rest and overfeeding, is never enough.” It is

merely an adjunct, though, under certain circumstances, a necessary

one, of the treatment by persuasion. But “it would be irrational to

look upon the isolation of neuropaths as a therapeutic necessity from

which one might never depart. It only applies to particular cases.”

In proceeding to define the class of civilian patients for whom such

methods are appropriate they emphasise the value of isolation for

those whose troubles are due to, or aggravated by, “a bad family

environment.” In most cases the circumstances of the war-stricken

soldier do not come within the categories which they suggest as

justifying isolation. Moreover, most of the benefits which they

attribute to this therapeutic measure, _i.e._, removal from home

surroundings and from the particular worries and anxieties which have

caused the mischief, are attained (as we have already pointed out) when

the soldier is an inmate of a special—or, in fact, of any—hospital.

When Déjerine and Gauckler proceed to define the different degrees in

which the method of isolation may be practised; _viz._: (1) strict

isolation; (2) absolute isolation from one’s family circle and

environment, and (3) isolation from one’s family circle alone, or from

one’s usual environment alone—it becomes clear that the treatment of

every soldier who enters any hospital inevitably comes within the scope

of categories 2 and 3.

Even when writing of hysterical women these French physicians tell us

that—

“to show how slightly (their) experience has inclined (them) towards

any systematic treatment of the psychoneuroses by isolation,”

isolation has not seemed (to the doctors) to be necessary for “at

least a third of the neuropathic women who have been cared for at the

Salpêtrière. Again, it must be added that, of the patients admitted,

a certain number have been received at the hospital and naturally

submitted to the discipline which belongs to an isolation ward

much more for humanitarian and social reasons than because absolute

isolation seemed to be formally indicated.”[31]

From the completely different nature of the circumstances of the

nerve-stricken soldier and civilian respectively it is clear that

such total isolation can be considered necessary for soldiers only in

very few cases, even though the modified forms of isolation, to which

reference has been made, may be useful for most of such patients. The

important point that emerges from this discussion is the necessity

which is laid upon the physician of determining, in the case of each

individual patient, whether isolation of any kind is desirable, what

form it should take, and especially when it should be used, modified or

discontinued.

_Suggestion and Hypnosis._ We have already touched briefly on the

need for sympathetic firmness and for inspiring the patient with

confidence that he will recover. But such firmness can be useful only

when it is supported by respect for and confidence in the physician.

In most cases such respect can be gained only by acquiring a real

insight into the patient’s condition and by treating him tactfully and

reasonably. It is too often forgotten that the neurasthenic patient’s

continual and intense criticism of himself makes him especially quick

at intuitively becoming conscious of the physician’s failings. Under

such circumstances, if the doctor does not secure the patient’s respect

and convince him that he really understands his condition, the former’s

firmness and confident assurances will avail him nothing: he has

shown his hand; his failure will excite contempt; and the patient’s

intractable, _enlightened_ stubbornness will be fatal to any further

hope of influence on the part of that particular physician.

Ever since mankind first sought help from his fellows for his

afflictions of body or mind, confidence in the efficiency of the

adviser’s ability has been an essential factor in leech-craft. To be

able to convince a patient that he is going to recover and that medical

advice will help towards that end is certainly not the least of the

physician’s qualifications. But unless the assurances given him are

based upon real insight and understanding, the process of securing the

patient’s confidence is not very different from the charlatan’s blatant

boasting. In other words, it is analogous to the confidence trick.

The confidence which is inspired in the patient by his conviction of

the physician’s real understanding of his condition is an altogether

different matter. Such “suggestion” necessarily enters into all

successful treatment and this applies in a very special manner to the

cure of mental ailments.

But the question arises, is it useful or desirable to supplement these

measures of suggestion which are incidental to all human intercourse,

by more positive measures of induced “suggestion” or hypnotism? There

are wide discrepancies of opinion with regard to this matter. And, in

endeavouring to come to a conclusion concerning it, it is important

to eliminate as far as possible the emotional tone which the warm

discussion of this question has aroused in the past.

The positive usefulness of hypnosis in relieving many of the acute

symptoms in recent cases of shell-shock has been fully demonstrated by

the important series of articles by C. S. Myers, in the _Lancet_.[32]

When it is possible by such means to restore to the patient his lost

memory or speech or banish his despondency it often proves that the

only hindrance to the complete restoration of his normal personality

has been removed.

“It may be argued,” to quote Myers’s own account, “that mutism,

rhythmical spasms, anæsthesia, and similar purely functional

disturbances disappear after a time without specific treatment. But no

one who has witnessed the unfeigned delight with which these patients,

on waking from hypnosis, hail their recovery from such disorders can

have any hesitation as to the impetus thus given towards a final cure.

More especially is this the case in regard to the restoration of lost

memories. Enough has already been said here about the striking changes

in temperament, thought, and behaviour which follow on recovery from

the amnesia... The restoration to the normal self of the memories of

scenes at one time dominant, now inhibited, and later tending to find

occasional relief in abnormal states of consciousness or in disguised

modes of expression—such restoration of past emotional scenes

constitutes a first step towards obtaining that volitional control

over them which the individual must finally acquire if he is to be

healed.

Thus the minimal value that can be claimed for hypnosis in the

treatment of shock cases consists in the preparation and facilitation

of the path towards a complete recovery.”[33]

Even if we admit that other measures, such as the administration of

chloroform for the cure of hysterical mutism, may in some cases effect

similar improvements, this should not blind us to the incontrovertible

fact that hypnotism has been proved to be a valuable therapeutic agent

in the early stages of shell-shock.

As a cure for certain patients who have passed the acute stages of

shell-shock or other forms of war-strain, its use requires great

discrimination in the selection of suitable cases and extreme care in

its practice. It is very probable, too, that hypnotic suggestion by

itself should never be regarded as sufficient treatment for these

cases, though undoubtedly it may be of great use as a part of such

treatment.

A view endorsed by some well-known physicians is that all psychotherapy

should be addressed to the functions of consciousness, and that

hypnosis, which is addressed to the functions of automatism, is

therefore undesirable. As a general statement this is undoubtedly true

of a great number of cases, but there occur instances in which it seems

that this sensible rule may be wisely and judiciously broken. In some

cases hypnosis helps in more quickly breaking down resistances, which

occur in patients too beset by their own auto-suggestion and false

beliefs to be able easily to grasp the arguments and persuasions which

the physician may have spent days and weeks in vainly endeavouring

to get accepted. Thus assistance may be sought without in any way

interfering with subsequent treatment of the patient by psychological

analysis and re-education.

The following instance illustrates the use of hypnotic suggestion in

the manner described above.

The case was one of violent spasmodic tremor in the right arm of a

soldier. When in a state of convalescence from a wound and shell-shock

he suddenly encountered his company officer, to whom he was greatly

attached. This officer had lost his right arm since he was last seen

in France by the patient. The shock of suddenly meeting the officer

in this condition set up the man’s tremor. The case came under

psychotherapeutic treatment some weeks later, when the patient, who was

an extremely emotional individual, had lost all hope of recovery. Any

attempt at purposive movements of the right hand and arm threw all the

muscles of the right side of the body into a violent state of jerky

tremor.

Long continued treatment by persuasion failed to effect any improvement

whatsoever. The medical officer in charge of the case therefore decided

to try hypnotic suggestion. This was easily carried out; the hypnotic

state being moderately deep, though the patient was still in touch with

his environment. Hope, courage and assurance of recovery _following

his own effort_, together with determination to make every endeavour,

were suggested to him. The patient was assured at each sitting that

his nerves and muscles would every day respond more and more to his

efforts at self-control. After a very few short sittings the man’s

hopeless attitude became changed to one of hope, effort and attention

in the waking stage, and there was a slight but decided improvement

in his voluntary power. Hypnotic suggestion was then given up, and

the treatment was continued by means of encouragement, exercises and

explanation of his trouble, with the result that two months later he

was fit for discharge from the hospital.

It may reasonably be doubted whether methods of persuasion alone would

have cured this man. In any case, it is clear that it would have taken

a very long time. It is also probable that hypnotic suggestion alone,

if continued, would very quickly have removed the symptoms. It may

be doubted, however, whether it would have effected a permanent cure

in a person so open to auto-suggestion. It seems, therefore, that a

judicious combination of methods was advisable.

We are of the opinion that hypnotic treatment, when used with skill,

discretion, and discrimination, has its place in the treatment of

shell-shock and similar conditions, both in the acute and chronic

stages.

In the majority of cases of some considerable duration, however, and

in practically all those in which the trouble is due to some ante-war

worry or emotion, it may be regarded as provable that hypnosis _alone_

will be of relatively slight use and in many cases may be positively

harmful, for under such circumstances, even with the most favourable

conditions, it would result merely in the removal of symptoms; and the

removal of one may be followed by the appearance of another, which may

even be induced by the process of hypnosis. Moreover, in cases where

there is a tendency to the development of a double personality hypnosis

may have the effect of increasing the risk. Further, if the patient has

sufficient of his own will-power to enable the process of re-education

to be carried out, it is clearly undesirable, both on psychological and

ethical grounds, for the doctor to impress his influence from without.

In considering the possibility of the usefulness of hypnotic suggestion

it is important to bear in mind that various factors may come into play

in impressing an event upon the patient’s memory, or in determining

the effect of the shock from which he is suffering when he arrives

in hospital. In the first place there is the vividness or intensity

of the stimulus; in the second, the degree of recency; in the third,

the frequency of the stimulus; and in the fourth its relevancy. By

the latter is meant the extent to which a given event appeals to

the individual’s past experience, and becomes integrated into his

personality.

A patient who has recently received a severe shock, the effects of

which alone represent the real trouble, without the disturbance of

any antecedent experience, might quite well be relieved by hypnotic

suggestion from sleeplessness, pain, or amnesia; and in some cases

this removal of the acute symptoms which determine the persistence

of the shock effects may lead to complete recovery. A single and

sudden wholly irrelevant experience, such as the bursting of a shell,

which has no relationship whatever to the patient’s past experience,

and produces effects by its vividness and its recency, might quite

well be neutralised by another kind of wholly irrelevant intrusion,

such as hypnotic suggestion. This argument may perhaps be made more

intelligible by a homely analogy. A temperate man walking along the

street might be thrown temporarily into a condition of faintness or

collapse by seeing some ghastly accident, but by taking a “brandy and

soda,” which to such a man would be a wholly irrelevant experience,

the physiological expressions of his emotions might be controlled and

he might be able to proceed on his way, and to overcome completely

the effects of the transitory occurrence. But in the case of a man

who, for example, had been greatly worried by monetary troubles for

a number of years, the “brandy and soda” would not produce anything

more than a temporary alleviation of his troubles. The latter

illustration represents the chronic psychosis which, as Déjerine has

so admirably explained, is quite unsuitable for hypnotic treatment.

But the distinguished French neurologist’s statements do not seem to

apply to the former type of case, due to a vivid recent shock, in the

symptomatology of which troubles before the shock play no part. In

such cases the results of hypnotic suggestion are often brilliant, if

erratic, as is the “brandy and soda cure” for the man who is overcome

by a sudden terrible experience in the street.

There are, however, patients who have not sufficient will-power or

intelligence to be properly re-educated, to whom a certain amount of

suggestion may be of some use.

Those who have used hypnosis in civil practice are aware that in

certain individual cases of long-standing trouble, such, for example,

as chronic alcoholism, hypnotic treatment is of unquestionable value.

Among soldiers suffering from the long-standing effects of shell-shock,

hypnosis may be able in some cases to help in the restoration of health

with an effectiveness that no other method can rival.

Both the danger and the possible usefulness of hypnotism may be

illustrated by an actual case. It is that of a man all of whose

companions were destroyed by the bursting of a shell, and who suffered

for months afterwards from complete loss of memory. A medical man

hypnotised him, and perhaps with undue tactlessness, brought back

the memory of the critical incident at the front, stripped of all

the episodes which led up to or followed it. This excited in him

the most violent emotions, and he became sick with terror; for the

revived incident seemed perfectly real to him, or, as he described

it afterwards, “it jumped up against him,” and for weeks he was so

utterly terrified that he would not go near the doctor. Even though

he could not retain the memory of any other recent events the horror

of that experience seemed to have made him remember his dread of a

particular medical man. But by making use of the information gained

during that revival under hypnosis of an incident unknown to anyone

but the patient, which his amnesia up till then had kept sealed up, it

became possible for another medical officer to bridge the gap between

his memory of previous events and the experiences which the patient was

known to have had in the military hospitals.

In speaking of the results of hypnotic treatment as being brilliant

but erratic, it is important to remember that the same observations

apply to suggestion without hypnosis. For instance, the application of

electricity to the vocal cords in cases of hysterical aphonia affords

an admirable illustration of the treatment by suggestion, even if the

method savours of charlatanism. An excellent demonstration of the part

which psychical factors play in such cases is afforded by the story

of a sailor on the German battle-cruiser _Derfflinger_, recorded by

Blässig.[34]

“A seaman from the _Derfflinger_ was brought into a naval hospital

with loss of voice on Dec. 22nd, 1914, and could speak only in

a whisper. He said that he had always had good health, with the

exception that as a child he had diphtheria, but recovered without

tracheotomy or any complication. His voice had always been clear and

well under control. At the beginning of December he had a slight

cold, which he attributed to sentry duty on deck in very stormy and

wet weather. While in the ammunition chamber of the big guns he was

greatly upset during the firing and suddenly lost his voice. After

fourteen days he recovered his speech. On Feb. 12th, 1915, he returned

to hospital with complete loss of voice, immediately after the

naval engagement in the North Sea. On Feb. 15th he was treated with

electricity, directly applied to the vocal cords, and on March 20th he

was discharged with complete recovery of his speech. But on returning

to duty, as soon as he went on board his ship his voice was suddenly

lost for the third time, and he remained aphonic.”

This is clear evidence of the fact that his trauma was psychical. His

previous history perhaps contains the clue explaining why, in his case,

it was his voice which was affected. The application of the faradic

current was suggestion pure and simple.

In emphasising the limited usefulness and possible danger of suggestive

therapeutics in many cases that are not quite recent, we have not been

referring to that method of suggestion which is involved to a greater

or less degree in all successful treatment of disease—the process of

gaining the patient’s confidence and impressing him with the idea that

he is going to recover.

“The conversational attitude, the familiar manner of talking things

over, the heart-to-heart discussion, where the physician must

exert his good sense and feeling, and the patient be willing to be

confidential” is the method which Déjerine calls ‘psychotherapy

by _persuasion_.’ “It consists in explaining to the patient the

true reasons for his condition, and [for] the different functional

manifestations which he presents, and above all, in establishing

the patient’s confidence in himself and awakening the different

elements of his personality, so as to make them capable of becoming

the starting-point of the effort which will enable him to regain

his self-control. The exact comprehension of the phenomena which

he presents must be gained by the patient by means of his own

reasoning.... The part that the physician plays is simply to recall,

awaken, and direct....”[35]

No one who has not had the experience of guiding mental patients in the

way so lucidly expounded by the French physicians can form any adequate

conception of the remarkable efficacy of these common-sense methods

in restoring to those who are afflicted a normal attitude of mind. It

is certainly saving considerable numbers of soldiers from the fate of

insanity. These methods are not novel, even if the fuller comprehension

of their mode of operation is only dawning upon us now. This point has

been admirably expounded by Déjerine and Gauckler, from whose book we

must quote once more:—

“May we be permitted to quote a few lines in which Bernardin de St.

Pierre has defined, more exactly and better perhaps than we could do,

and with a sort of prescience of what is needed, the very rôle that we

would like to [see our physicians adopt towards their patients].

I wish that there might be formed in large cities an establishment,

somewhat resembling those which charitable physicians and wise jurists

have formed in Paris, to remedy the evils both of the body and of

one’s fortunes; I mean councils for consolation, where an unfortunate,

sure of his secret being kept and even of his incognito, might bring

up the subject of his troubles. We have, it is true, confessors and

preachers to whom the sublime function of offering consolation to the

unfortunate seems to be reserved. But the confessors are not always

at the disposition of their penitents. As for the preachers, their

sermons serve more as nourishment for souls than as a remedy, for

they do not preach against boredom, or unhappiness, or scruples, or

melancholy, or vexation, or ever so many other evils which affect the

soul. It is not easy to find in a timid and depressed personality the

exact point about which he is grieving, and to pour balm into his

wounds with the hand of the Samaritan. It is an art known only to

sensitive and sympathetic souls.

Oh! if only men who knew the science of grief could give unfortunate

people the benefit of their experience and sympathy, many miserable

souls would come to seek from them the consolation which they cannot

get from preachers or all the books of philosophy in the world. Often,

to comfort the troubles of men, all that is necessary is to find out

from what they are suffering (_Etude de la Nature_, 1784).”

Déjerine and Gauckler add:—

“One could not express any better, or any more directly, what we never

cease to maintain, however lacking in science it may seem at the

first—namely, the real therapeutic action of kindness.

Liberated morally, and having regained consciousness of self,

and freed in addition from his functional manifestations by the

appropriate processes ... the patient is cured. He is cured from

his actual attack. But his mental foundation, his psychological

constitution, still remains in the same condition which permitted

him under emotional influences to become a neurasthenic. The rôle of

the physician is, therefore, not ended. He must still build up his

patient’s life, still practise prophylaxis, and get the patient into a

condition where his character will be established.”[36]

_Rational Treatment._ So far in this chapter we have been discussing

what may be described as general methods of treatment, which do not

_necessarily_ involve any attempt to probe into distinctive individual

symptoms and to discover the real fundamental cause or causes of the

trouble. The measures so far considered are empirical rather than

rational. But they are the only methods of treatment discussed in most

of the text-books.

It is an axiom in medicine that correct diagnosis is the indispensable

preliminary to the rational and intelligent treatment of disease. This

fundamental principle is universally recognised in dealing with bodily

affections; but it is the primary object of this book to insist that

_it is equally necessary to observe the same principle in the case of

mental illness_.

It may seem ironical to stress this elementary consideration, but it

is notorious that accurate diagnosis is too often ignored in cases

of incipient mental disturbance. It is idle to pretend that such a

procedure is unnecessary, or to urge in extenuation of the failure to

search for causes that many patients recover under the influence of

nothing more than rest, quiet, and ample diet.

Many mild cases of illness, whether bodily or mental, may and do

recover even if undiagnosed or untreated. But on the other hand many

mild cases get worse; and it is the primary duty of the physician

correctly to diagnose the nature of the trouble and to give a

prognosis—to decide whether the illness is mild or severe. Some of the

most serious cases of incipient mental trouble are those of patients

who do not seem to be really ill, and are easily overlooked by a

visiting physician. They are quiet and inoffensive and display no

obvious signs of the insidious processes that are at work in them. But

all the time they may be, and often are, brooding over some grievance

or moral conflict, worrying about their feelings, misinterpreting them

and gradually systematising these misunderstandings until they become

set as definite delusions or hallucinations. If, acting on the belief

that it is bad to talk about a patient’s worries, the physician leaves

such a man alone, he is clearly neglecting his obvious duty. For the

whole trouble may be due to some trivial misunderstanding which he

could easily correct.

In the severer forms of mental disease, precise diagnosis is even more

intimately related to treatment than in the case of bodily illness.

For when a patient’s illness is recognised as some bodily affliction,

such as pneumonia or appendicitis, certain general lines of treatment

are laid down as soon as the appropriate label has been found for

the complaint, though, in the case of the latter illness, there is

added the further problem of whether or not surgical interference is

indicated.

In cases of mental disturbance, however, the general lines of treatment

cannot thus arbitrarily be determined merely by finding an appropriate

label. It is true that as in the treatment of bodily disease, certain

general principles must be observed, such as the provision of

abundant and suitable food, and the protection of the patient from

all disturbing influences. But the essence of the mentally afflicted

patient’s trouble is some particular form of anxiety or worry which

is _individual and personal_. The aim of the diagnosis, therefore,

should be not merely to determine the appropriate generic label for

the affliction, but rather to discover the particular circumstances

which have given rise to the present state. The special object of the

physician should be to remove or nullify the exciting cause of the

disturbance; and in order to do this it is essential that he should

discover the precise nature of the trouble. The diagnosis, therefore,

must be of a different nature from that demanded in case of physical

illness, where the condition may be adequately defined by some such

generic term as “lobar pneumonia” or “acute appendicitis,” and its

gravity estimated by the general condition and physique of the patient.

In the case of mental trouble, the physician has to make an individual

diagnosis, based not only upon an insight into the personality but also

into the particular anxieties of each patient.

But even when it is recognised that exact diagnosis of the particular

circumstances of each individual patient is essential, if the trouble

is to be treated rationally and with insight, there still remain many

difficult problems as to procedure.

Amongst those whom experience has convinced of the efficacy of

psychological treatment for this class of case, there are indications

of a divergence of opinion in the matter of procedure. Some believe

that it is sufficient if the medical man has discovered the real cause

of the trouble and explained it to the patient. Other workers look upon

a preliminary psychical examination merely as a means of diagnosis,

the unveiling of the hidden cause of the trouble; and consider that

the treatment should be the laborious and often lengthy process of

re-educating the patient, and so restoring to him the proper control of

himself. It is of the utmost importance to emphasise the undoubted fact

that those who maintain either of these views to the exclusion of the

other are committing a grievous and dangerous error, for there is no

sharp line of demarcation between the two procedures.

A sensible and intelligent man, once the cause of his trouble has

been made clear to him, may be competent to continue to cure himself,

or, in other words, to re-educate himself, and completely to conquer

the cause of his undoing. But the duller and stupider man may need a

daily demonstration and renewal of confidence before he begins to make

any progress. It is precisely analogous to the experience of every

teacher of a class of students; the brilliant man will seize hold of a

principle at once and learn to apply it without further help, whereas

the dull man needs repeated and concrete demonstrations before it sinks

into his understanding.

In dealing with soldiers, and this applies with especial force to the

regular army, the conditions in many of the cases differ considerably

from those of the civilians. Trifling forgetfulness in the civilian

would perhaps not be a serious cause of worry, but in the soldier,

inured by years of training to strict discipline, forgetfulness of

even trivial instructions, or any difficulty in understanding complex

orders, is likely to bring down upon his head condign punishment. Such

lapses are regarded by the soldier as extremely serious offences,

because years of training and discipline have inculcated this idea.

When as the result of shock such soldiers are afflicted by even slight

forgetfulness, they become worried by it much more than would the

civilian and exaggerate its importance until it becomes a real terror

to them. As the result of their training they may regard such phenomena

as altogether abnormal; and by a process of rationalising what to them

is a novel experience, they are apt to imagine that they are going mad.

Such patients often dream about incidents in their army life when they

had been forgetful and got into trouble; they become obsessed with the

haunting fear that they are likely to get into perpetual difficulties,

are worried by the thought that they are incompetent for the duties to

which they have been accustomed, and may imagine themselves debarred

from all useful work. However, they are easily reassured when the

medical attendant explains to them that in ordinary life civilians

are frequently subject to such experiences, and that it is only the

special circumstances of army life which make such trivial lapses seem

serious to them. Not only is the soldier much more scared by such

things than the civilian, but it is also a very remarkable phenomenon,

and certainly one which came as a surprise, that the neurasthenia of a

soldier is apt to be very much more serious than that of the civilian.

For when a really brave man is stricken by fear he is more seriously

affected by the terror of an experience which to him not only has a

larger element of novelty than in the case of the civilian, but also

wounds him more deeply by convincing him that he is lacking in that

very quality which is most essential for his professional work.

_The Therapeutic Value of Work._

It should be unnecessary to emphasise the desirability of preventing

the neurasthenic from dwelling upon his subjective troubles by

occupying his mind with other things. This end may often be achieved

by the provision of suitable occupation, and where possible, for

many obvious reasons, this occupation should take the form of useful

work. The worker then feels that he is not a mere burden upon the

hospital which is treating him: the institution in its turn benefits

materially. But it is necessary to sound a note of warning against

the indiscriminate prescription of work as a panacea. First of all it

should be certain that the work is of such a kind as really to interest

the patient and to occupy his mind. There are many varieties of work,

especially of manual labour, which can be performed mechanically, and

do not succeed in distracting the attention from worries and anxieties.

But more important even than this is the consideration that there are

some mental troubles from which no form of work will distract the

patient. Especially is this the case in many of the psychoneuroses

caused by the war. The sufferer is often haunted day and night by

memories which torture him not merely by their horror but also by

another aspect which is even worse: the ever-increasing moral remorse

which they induce. A patient may be troubled not only by the terrible

nature of the memory but by the recurring thought, “If I had not

done” this or that, “it might never have happened.” The reader will

easily see how such a thought may arise in the mind, especially of a

nerve-stricken officer or “N.C.O.” after weeks of brooding in private

upon the memory of a disaster. Now, such self-reproaches are frequently

based upon entirely insufficient evidence, and if the medical officer

is given the opportunity of calmly discussing their foundations with

the patient, the result is often to reassure him and to enable him to

view his past in an entirely new light. It is then, and not before

then, that he will be able cheerfully to enter upon useful occupation

and to benefit by it. To suppose that the mere physical fatigue

induced by a day’s hard work will banish all forms of insomnia betrays

an ignorance of one of the most important causes of this malady;

_viz._, mental conflict. It is well known that bodily fatigue in the

case of a mentally excited patient may merely increase his unrest at

night. Again, anyone who has had a few months’ experience of receiving

the confidence of these nerve-stricken soldiers will know that some of

their troubles are so poignant that the attractions of the (apparently)

most interesting kinds of occupation leave them cold.

To sum up, the physician may confidently prescribe work when, by

investigating the history of any particular case, he has satisfied

himself that such occupation will be likely successfully and profitably

to distract the patient’s mind from his worries. But the prescription

of work for the patient must be regarded as a sequel to, not as a

substitute for, the performance of work by the doctor.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] Such, for example, as those set forth in the series of articles in

Vol. VIII, of Sir Clifford Allbutt’s _System of Medicine_, 1899, pp.

88-233.

[25] The part played by bodily disease in the causation of mental

disturbance has been concisely summarised by Sir G. H. Savage in the

introductory chapter on Mental Disease in Vol. VIII, of Allbutt’s

_System of Medicine_, pp. 191-195.

[26] Or in some mild cases, to encourage him to wish to remain an

invalid under such pleasant conditions.

[27] In his careful studies of these conditions, C. S. Myers has

called attention to the mistaken notion of regarding these troubles as

“fundamentally due to disordered volition,” _Lancet_, Sept. 9th, 1916,

p. 467.

[28] This explanation of the reasons for the use of isolation is taken

from Mohr’s article in Lewandowsky’s _Handbuch der Neurologie_.

[29] As Sir Clifford Allbutt has pointed out (_op. cit._, p. 158).

[30] _The Psychoneuroses and their Treatment by Psychotherapy_,

translated from the French by Jelliffe, 2nd Edition, 1913, p. 311.

[31] _Op. cit._, p. 315.

[32] Feb. 13th, 1915 (p. 316); Jan. 8th, 1916 (p. 65); Mar. 18th, 1916

(p. 608); and Sept. 9th, 1916 (p. 461).

[33] _Op. cit._, p. 69.

[34] _Münchener Medizinische Wochenschrift_, June 15th, 1915, p. 335.

[35] Déjerine and Gauckler, _op. cit._, p. 283.

[36] _Op. cit._, pp. 302-3.

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