"JEALOUSY," I stated a few pages back, "has its roots in selfishness, in an over-development of what may be called the ego-centric instinct." Aside from its role as a developer of jealousy, selfishness is indeed one of the major handicaps of childhood. Moralists have long urged on parents the importance of early training to prevent their children from becoming selfish. They have rightly pictured selfishness as among the greatest of human blemishes, giving character an ugly twist and making impossible that harmonious adjustment with other people which is indispensable to individual happiness and social progress. But it is not merely to be condemned from the moralist's point of view: it also is to be condemned from the physician's. Selfishness does much more than injure character: it may even ruin the health of those afflicted with it. To put the matter briefly, training against selfishness is imperative in early life, if only as a safeguard against the functional nervous and mental maladies so common to-day.

When parents fail to teach their children to control their emotions; when they foster in them exaggerated notions of their importance by giving way to the children in everything, being over-solicitous about them, performing duties for them which the children should early be taught to perform for themselves, selfishness is an almost inevitable outgrowth. The children, in addition, may become quite unfitted to cope with the stresses of existence. And they may further become so psychically disorganised that, if after a time they no longer find themselves always having their own way, there may develop nervous symptoms which not merely are the product of an inner emotional storm, but are strangely designed to fulfil the nervous one's latent wish to remain the centre of interest and influence. Or, more bluntly stated, nervous attacks frequently are sheer manifestations of selfishness. It is selfishness that gives rise to them, and, though the victim may not be at all conscious of the fact, they represent an abnormal effort of the personality to attain selfish ends.

This is not theory. It is an established truth, and is demonstrable from the case-histories of many nervous patients, adults and children alike. And, with increasing use of the most advanced methods of mental analysis, the influence of selfishness in causing nervous ailments is certain to become more widely appreciated than it is at present. Not that selfishness is the causal factor in all nervous cases. It would be absurdly false to assert anything of the kind, but the proportion of cases in which it does figure is astonishingly high. Parents need to know this; they need to recognise that failure to curb selfishness during the formative period of childhood may mean nervous wreckage, as well as the distorting of character. In the case of a child of so-called "nervous temperament"—a child, that is to say, who begins life with an unstable nervous organisation by reason of inherited weaknesses—nervous wreckage is almost certain to be the result of neglect to take precautions against the growth of selfishness. The full effects of parental neglect in this regard may not be visible for many years, but frequently they become disconcertingly evident while the child still is young. A case reported to me by a well-known American neurologist and psychopathologist is decidedly to the point in this connection, and may well be given in some detail.

It is the case of a girl of fourteen who was brought to the neurologist because of nervous symptoms which took the form of periods of anxiety and depression, alternating with outbreaks of great irritability. The girl, her mother stated, seemed to have lost interest in everything. At times she would sit mournfully weeping; at others, fall into a passion for no apparent reason. More than once she had declared that she wanted to die. She could not, or would not, give any explanation of this most singular behaviour.

Making a diagnosis of functional, rather than organic, disease, the neurologist resorted to dream-analysis to get at the hidden causes of trouble. At his request, the girl related several dreams, all of which had the noticeable peculiarity that in them the dreamer herself was, to an unusual extent, the dominant figure of the dream-action. Another striking feature of her dreams was that many of them had to do with imaginary experiences of a painful character befalling either the dreamer's father or her brother. Mindful of the theory that dreams are directly or indirectly representative of secret wishes, the neurologist questioned his little patient about her family life. She frankly admitted that she disliked her father, and was not overfond of her brother. She disliked the father—or, as she vehemently said, "hated" him—because he scolded her. Her coldness towards her brother arose from the fact that her mother had fallen into the habit of tactlessly holding him up as a model of good behaviour.

"I love my mother, though," she added, "because she is good to me, and generally lets me do what I want."

Summoning the mother to a private conference, the physician learned that, from early childhood, his patient had been very obstinate and self-willed. Her mother, through mistaken affection, had pampered her. She had literally made herself a slave to the daughter, even to the extent of giving up evening engagements that she might sit by her daughter's bed, gently stroking her head until she fell asleep.

"She cannot sleep unless I do this," said the mother, "and though I have lately tried to discontinue it, I cannot, because she cries and shrieks until I come to her."

To the neurologist the situation was now perfectly clear. The daughter's nervous symptoms were manifestly the not surprising reaction of a personality untrained in emotional control and unexpectedly confronted by a novel and painful state of affairs—the mother's half-hearted attempt to break away from her self-imposed slavery. However, it would hardly do to tell the mother that her early mismanagement of the child was responsible for the neurotic condition which had developed, and that this neurotic condition was, in reality, only a subconsciously originated device to reassert the daughter's waning authority over her mother. What the neurologist did say was:

"Madam, if you want your daughter to get well, you must at once stop this practice of stroking her to sleep. I must ask you to begin to-night. Send your daughter to her room, leave her in bed, shut and lock the door, and let her shriek. This may seem hard and cruel, but it is actually a greater kindness than a continuance of the stroking would be. It is, indeed, a first and necessary step in her cure."

The mother obeyed. For two nights the house resounded with the girl's cries. The third night she went to bed and to sleep without a protest. Then the physician once more sent for the mother.

"You are soon leaving town for the summer, I understand," he said. "What are you going to do with your daughter?"

"Why, take her with us, of course."

"You must do nothing of the sort. Instead, send her to a girls' camp. She needs contact with other girls; she needs the discipline such contact will give her. It is far and away the best medicine she can have. Her recovery depends solely on her developing a new point of view, a mental outlook that will extend beyond herself. This is what a good camp for girls can give her."

The outcome vindicated his words. That fall the nervously depressed girl came back from a summer in camp radiantly happy and with a vastly altered disposition. Since then her parents have had no trouble with her.

Please, however, understand clearly that she was really a sick girl when her mother took her to my neurological friend. It was not simply a question of dealing with a "naughty" girl. The depression, the tears, the attacks of irritability were not deliberately put on to excite sympathy and to play on the mother's affections. This assuredly was their basic purpose, but they were the product of subconscious, not conscious, mental action. They were the resultant of an emotional stress, the responsibility for which rested not with the girl herself but with her mother's unwise treatment of her. If she had become neurotic, it was because her mother had made her so. What she needed, and all she needed, was psychic re-education, and this she obtained through the neurologist's common-sense method of cure.

The fact that such cases are indicative, not of mere naughtiness, but of the action of an inner force operating independently of the victim's conscious volition, will become more apparent when I add that sometimes the symptoms causing medical aid to be invoked are physical instead of mental. In one typical case of this sort a neurologist was summoned to examine a small boy who had been attacked by a peculiar weakness of the legs. To all appearance, he was in perfect bodily health, but when he attempted to walk his legs gave way, and he would fall, unless quickly supported. The most careful testing failed to reveal any organic cause for this condition, and a diagnosis of juvenile hysteria was made. It was learned that the boy's trouble began soon after he had met in the street a badly crippled, semi-paralysed man, whose appearance had evidently made a deep impression on his mind, as he spoke of it, when he got home, in terms partly of astonishment and partly of fear. There could be no doubt that the sight of this man had acted as a "suggestion" to cause the development of a somewhat similar condition in the boy himself. The question remained, why should the mere seeing of a crippled man have sufficient suggestive force to bring on an hysterical crippling? For undoubtedly the boy must have had not a few equally distressing experiences long before this one.

On investigation it turned out that at the time he saw the cripple he was under considerable mental strain. A petted, spoiled child, he had rebelled against being sent to school. He would much rather stay home and play by himself or with his mother. His parents' desires in the matter were as nothing to him: it was what he wanted that was the important thing. For once, though, the parents insisted on being obeyed by their thoroughly selfish boy. He had to go to school, and go to school he did, until the hysterical paralysis set in. This paralysis, of course, was somewhat inconvenient, since it limited his opportunities for play, but it at least had the advantage of keeping him from attending the school that he detested. The boy himself was not in the slightest conscious of the part thus played by selfish wishing in the development of his diseased condition. He was really frightened at finding himself unable to stand and walk. Nevertheless, so strong was his antipathy against school that it was some time before the suggestion of paralysis was broken down by appropriate psychotherapeutic treatment.

Other cases even more extraordinary are recorded in medical annals. One "spoiled child," a little girl not five years old, had a series of convulsive attacks, following the unexpected refusal of her parents to grant a request that involved risk to her if they granted it. After the convulsions she was paralysed in her lower limbs, and the parents, terrified, called in an eminent specialist in nervous diseases. Fortunately, the specialist recognised almost at once that it was a case of hysterical paralysis, brought on by lack of discipline and lack of training in emotional control, and he obtained the parents' permission to isolate the little girl and treat her as he deemed best. His treatment was harsh, but exceedingly effective. For two days he starved the child, then put a bowl of bread and milk some distance from her bed. The suggestion of food was too strong for the suggestion of paralysis. Without further ado, she skipped nimbly out of bed and secured the bowl. But the specialist did not reproach her for being a naughty girl. His reproaches were for the parents, to whom he gave some greatly needed advice as to her future upbringing.

Hysterical pains, contractures, swellings, even hysterical blindness, have been observed in children who, after having been unduly indulged, feel that their father or mother, as the case may be, is no longer as attentive to and lenient with them as they would like. More frequently, under such conditions, the symptoms of nervousness are chiefly mental, or, if physical, are confined to muscular twitchings, slight involuntary movements of the face, head, hands, and similar manifestations. Unhappily, the true significance of these is often overlooked. They are thought to be defects which the child will "outgrow," and in many cases they certainly are outgrown, to all appearance. But, if the moral weaknesses underlying them—the self-centredness, the deficiency in emotional control—are not in the meantime corrected, at any crisis in adult life there is likely to result a nervous breakdown or a serious attack of hysteria. Indeed, in not a few cases of adult hysteria, the causal agency of selfishness is unmistakably in evidence to those accustomed to interpreting nervous symptoms. There are plenty of men and women whose chronic neuroticism is motivated by a subconscious craving to be the centre of attraction, or to be perpetually dominant in the family life. There are other unfortunates who, when their will is seriously crossed, take refuge, like the boys and girls just mentioned, in various forms of nervous disease. The curious experience of a New England physician, Doctor A. Myerson, for some time connected with the Boston Psychopathic Hospital, is by no means as unique as might be thought.

This physician was summoned to attend a woman suffering from what was supposed to be a cerebral hemorrhage. She no longer was able to move her right arm, right leg, or the right side of her face, and had entirely lost the power of speech. For many months previous to the onset of this deplorable condition she had been troubled at irregular intervals by headaches, nausea, and fainting spells. The patient herself and her friends had little doubt that she was in so serious a condition that recovery could not be expected. But Doctor Myerson, making use of the most up-to-date methods of neurological diagnosis, soon was able to reach a reassuring verdict. It was a case, he found, not of organic, but of functional paralysis—in fine, a case of hysteria. And, in the end, by employing what is technically known as the method of "indirect suggestion," he actually re-educated the paralyzed woman both to walk and to talk.

Meantime, he made a searching inquiry to ascertain just why she had been stricken by hysterical paralysis. He discovered, for one thing, that the patient's fainting and vomiting spells and her headaches had usually followed bitter quarrels with her husband—and usually had the effect of placing victory on her side. There was one point, nevertheless, on which the husband was immovable. He was a poor man and could not grant his wife's insistent demand to move to a more expensive neighbourhood. He would not have granted it if he could, for in the particular neighbourhood to which she wished to move she had friends whom he regarded as undesirable. It appeared that the attack of paralysis and speechlessness had been preceded by an exceptionally bitter quarrel over this question of moving—"a quarrel which," to quote from Doctor Myerson's report, "had lasted for a whole day and into the night of the attack."

Thus, the attack itself could be correctly interpreted as the supreme effort of a self-centred, neurotic personality to gain a desired end. But, while making this interpretation, Doctor Myerson was quick to add, in his report on the case, that the attack had not by any means been brought on through the patient's "conscious purpose or volition." It was all an affair of her subconsciousness, working in a blind, abnormal, irrational way to help attain the object of her conscious desire. That her subconsciousness should work so abnormally and so disastrously was chiefly due, beyond any doubt, to the absence of adequate training in self-control and emotional restraint.

But it is not only as a strange, irrational mode of fulfilling a wish that hysteria and other nervous disorders may become manifest in selfish people. Without this element of wishing entering in at all, nervousness is particularly likely to attack the selfish. Many nervous conditions are directly brought on by conscious or subconscious fixing of the thoughts on the bodily processes. We are so constituted that our internal organs work best when we pay no attention to them—or, more strictly, when we pay no attention to the physical sensations to which they give rise while working. If, for any reason, our attention is turned to and held on these sensations, they at once become exaggerated, and the organs giving rise to them tend to function badly. In this way any bodily organ may be disturbed in its action, and general symptoms of nervousness result through nothing but over-attention.

An eminent New York physician, Doctor J. J. Walsh, who has given special thought to this aspect of the problem of nervousness, states the case more fully, as follows:

"If something has particularly attracted a patient's attention to some part of his anatomy, and if his attention is concentrated on it and allowed to dwell long on it, his feelings may be so exaggerated as to tempt him to think that they are connected with some definite pathological condition, and he may even translate them into serious portents of organic disease. If a patient once begins to waste nervous energy on himself because of solicitude with regard to these symptoms, then it will not be long before feelings of tiredness, incapacity for work, at times insomnia and certain disturbances of memory, are likely to be noted. Then the neurasthenic picture seems to be complete.

"This is the process so picturesquely called 'short-circuiting,' by which nervous energy exhausts itself upon the individual himself instead of in the accomplishment of external work. Many of the worst cases of so-called neurasthenia have their origin in this process. It is true that this set of events is much more likely to occur among people of lowered nervous vitality, but, under certain conditions, it may develop in those who are otherwise in good health up to the moment when the attention happened to be particularly called to certain feelings. The physician can start these patients off anew, after improving their physical condition, if he can only bring them to see how much their concentration of mind upon themselves is the cause of their symptoms."[9]

Now, of all people likely to be thus afflicted, the selfish man or woman is by all means the likeliest, simply because his or her every mode of thinking revolves about self. It is the selfish man's wishes, his pleasures, his grievances, his reverses, that are of supreme importance to him. When, moreover, his early upbringing has been such as to leave him sadly short in emotional control, any passing disturbance in the workings of his internal organs may easily hold disastrous consequences for him. He worries over little ailments—as, for example, a slight attack of indigestion—to which people of less self-centred nature would give little or no thought. And, by his persistent worrying and his persistent over-attention to the way his stomach works, it may not be long before he has become a victim of chronic nervous dyspepsia.

Of course, unselfish people who are lacking in emotional control, or carry about with them the unassimilated memory of childhood emotional shocks, may likewise become nervous invalids of one sort or another. But they are much less likely to do this than selfish people are, if only because the unselfish are not so eternally occupied with themselves. They have externalised their thoughts; they have neither time nor inclination to think about trivial aches and pains. Unless overwhelmed by an unexpected emotional shock—for instance, by the sudden death of a beloved relative or by the shock of some great fright—they are likely to go through life comfortably and normally enough. On the other hand, the selfish person is always in danger of becoming morbidly introspective, with resultant damage to the functioning of his nervous system.

Besides all this, there is the important consideration that to be selfish means to be unhappy. Even if actual nervous ailments of a serious sort are escaped by the selfish, unhappiness in the social relations and in the family relations is certain to be experienced. It is my firm belief that, more than any other single cause, selfishness is responsible for misunderstandings and increasing bitterness between husband and wife, ending all too often in a breakdown of the sacred institution of marriage. To deal successfully with that dread problem of to-day—the divorce evil—we must, I submit, first appreciate how basic in marriage failure is the factor of selfishness. To this theme I now invite the attention of my parent-readers, for it is a theme of particular interest to them. If I am correct, it is through education for marriage and, most of all, through education against selfishness that the divorce problem can most surely he solved.

What a problem it is! And a problem that has been steadily growing in seriousness. In the twenty years from 1867 to 1886, according to figures compiled by the United States Census Bureau, 328,716 divorces were granted throughout the country. In the next twenty years—that is, from 1887 to 1906—divorces aggregated the enormous total of 945,625. In other words, in a period of only twenty years nearly two million men and women in the United States had their marriage ties legally severed, the break-up being at the rate of about one hundred and thirty divorces a day.

And this increase has been progressively growing year after year. In 1867 there were only 9,937 divorces for the entire country. In 1906 no fewer than 72,012 divorces were granted. Four years ago an unofficial estimate put the annual divorce crop at nearly one hundred thousand, or, roughly, one hundred divorces for every one hundred thousand of population. The same estimate indicated that one marriage in every twelve ends in divorce.

Nor do these figures afford a complete view of the extent to which marital infelicity obtains in the United States. Every year thousands of marriages virtually, or actually, terminate without recourse to the courts. Men and women who have entered into the marriage state really in love with each other, develop so-called "incompatibilities of temperament" which transform love into indifference, even hate. Reluctant to seek divorce—perhaps conscientiously opposed to it—they continue to live together, husband and wife in name only, or they arrange a voluntary separation. Many others escape from what they have come to regard as an intolerable yoke by the easy expedient of desertion, not necessarily followed by court proceedings. It is impossible to give exact figures, but unquestionably the number of marriages which collapse in divorce is a comparatively small proportion of all unhappy marriages.

Taking the increase in divorce, however, as a concrete, definite measure of marriage failure, the problem of explanation and remedy remains obviously and sufficiently urgent. And it must be said that as a rule the offered solutions are either evasive or superficial.

Some investigators, despairing of finding any solution, insist that the increase in divorce is an unavoidable product of the complex, strenuous life of modern civilisation. Others, much of the same mind, advocate "trial marriages" as a palliative. Still others, singularly lacking in courtesy, or of a myopic vision so far as women are concerned, throw the blame on the "feminist movement," on the increasing emancipation of woman from her old-time position of slavish inferiority. Finally, there are investigators who, noting that the increase in divorce has steadily been gaining momentum since the Civil War, attribute this to the difference in economic conditions before and after the war. In effect, they say that there are more divorces because the country is wealthier, the inference being that increased national prosperity has had an unsettling effect on the national life.

That this contention is sound cannot be gainsaid; but it does not go deep enough. Of itself, it no more explains the increase in divorce than it does the increase in crime and the increase in mental and nervous disease, equally in evidence since the Civil War. These, too, there is warrant for affirming, have increased because of changed economic conditions. It remains, however, to ascertain the precise factor or factors brought into operation by this economic change to account for the growth in crime, insanity, nervous troubles, and divorce. And, in this connection, it is most interesting and important to observe that, so far as concerns crime, insanity, and nervous troubles, recent research has made clear exactly why there has been an increase and how this may best be checked.

It is now recognised that, psychologically speaking, crime, insanity, and nervousness represent an imperfect adaptation to the environment in which the criminal, the lunatic, or the nervous person lives. This failure of adaptation may be due either to inborn lack of capacity to meet the requirements of the environment, or to lack of proper training.

Not so many years ago it was the consensus of scientific opinion that in most cases of crime, insanity and nervousness the victim was hopelessly handicapped from the start by the nature of his being. There was much talk of "inherited criminality," "congenital brain defects," and "neuropathic inheritance." But observation and experiment have compelled an almost complete abandonment of this doctrine of fatal degeneration. To-day scientists largely hold that not more than 1 or 2 per cent. of criminals can be stigmatised as criminals by birth; that insanity is not inheritable, like eye-colour or hair-colour; and that nervousness is, at bottom, an acquired, rather than inherited, disorder.

Accordingly, if crime, insanity, and nervousness are on the increase, it follows that faults of training, rather than innate and unescapable tendencies, are the responsible factors. More specifically, crime, insanity, and nervousness have increased because no adequate effort has been made, by appropriate training, to fit the individual to withstand the extra strain put upon him by the economic changes of the past half century.

Still further, modern scientific research has discovered the specific training fault which, more than anything else, accounts for the failure in adaptation. Stated briefly, this fault consists in neglect to develop moral and emotional control during the first years of life.

In the case of criminality it has been proved, by repeated experiment tried on a large scale,[10] that even the descendants of a long line of criminals, if carefully trained in early childhood, will lead upright lives. In the case of insanity, the discovery that the three principal causes of mental disease are excessive indulgence in alcohol, sexual indiscretions, and emotional stress, points directly to the importance of training, aimed at the development of moral control. But most impressive, as emphasising the need for beginning this training at an early age, is the evidence accumulated in the case of those functional maladies, hysteria, neurasthenia, and psychasthenia—evidence which we have already discussed in much detail in these pages.

Study the history of every case of "nervous breakdown," of psychasthenic fear, of hysterical anxiety and disabilities, of neurasthenic aches and pains, and there will always be found a background of emotional intensity and self-centredness, persisting from early childhood. Hence, the demand of the modern neurologist and medical psychologist for training in youth that will foster control of the emotions and that will habituate the individual to forget self in useful activities. "The mind occupied with external interests will have neither time nor inclination to feed upon itself."

If, therefore, the one sure check to the increase in crime, insanity, and nervous disorders is moral training in early life, can it be doubted that the same process offers the strongest means of checking the tendency to flood the divorce courts?

Ninety-nine divorces out of every hundred, it is safe to say, result from errors of thinking and living—errors directly traceable to shortcomings in early training. Selfishness and lack of control—these, I insist, are the usual elements out of which divorces grow. And what are these but bad habits, for which good habits might have been substituted had proper precautions been taken by the parents in the plastic, formative period of youth? Even in respect to the sexual phase of marriage—that phase in which so many marriages come to grief—the trouble, when trouble occurs, may, in most cases, be wholly attributed to parental thoughtlessness or ignorance. On the sexual side, as on all sides of married life, the great need is for education for marriage.

It is not my intention here to go into details. It must suffice to say that investigation has shown that the sexual impulse begins to manifest itself in sundry ways far earlier than most parents appreciate, and that unless care is taken to observe and offset eccentricities of behaviour possibly containing a sexual element, permanent harm may result.

For example, there often is a sexual element in the cruelty with which not a few children treat play-fellows or household pets. The exaggerated affection little boys sometimes display for their mothers, and little girls for their fathers, is to-day likewise regarded by many medical psychologists as a sexual signal calling for educational measures to insure a more even distribution of affection for both parents. These same psychologists insist that at the first obvious signs of interest in sexual matters—as when the child begins to ask questions about his origin—he should be given frank, if tactful, elementary instruction in the facts of sex. Recall the quotation previously made from Havelock Ellis in this connection. Evasive or untruthful answers will not do. They only fix the attention more strongly on the subject, and from this fixing of the attention a dangerously morbid interest in things sexual may develop.

Clearly, parents who would do their full duty by their children have no easy task before them. Yet everything combines to show that unless they make a business of parenthood—and, in especial, unless, by direct instruction and the force of good example, they develop in their children the virtues of self-control and self-forgetfulness—the after lives of those children, when themselves married, will be anything but happy, and may, in addition, be lives marred by some form of serious nervous or mental disturbance.