In any discussion of the influence of mind over body, favorable and unfavorable, too much emphasis cannot be placed on the hold that dreads have over a great many people and how much they mean, not alone for the mental state, but also for the physical sense of well-being or of ill-feeling in the individual. The expression attributed to the old hermit who had lived to the age of one hundred and had spent some sixty years of existence in the solitude of the desert, with all the opportunities for introspection that this afforded, is the best illustration even in our day of what dreads signify in life: "I am an old man," he said to the young solitary who came to him for advice, "and I have had many troubles, but most of them never happened." We are nearly all of us, or at least those of us who spend most of our time in sedentary mental occupations, prone to fear that something untoward is preparing for us and in many cases to dread lest some serious ailment or other is just ahead of us. We are afraid that certain feelings, though we like to call them symptoms, due to some trivial cause or other as a rule that deserves no notice, may mean the insidious inroads of a constitutional disease destined to shorten existence. A little fatigue, over-tiredness of particular muscles, the straining of joints, the discomforts due to overeating and undersleeping, that are meant as passing warnings of nature for the necessity of a little more care in life, are exaggerated into symptoms that have a more or less serious significance.

DEFINITE DREADS

Besides these rather vague dreads, however, there are certain special disquietudes peculiar to individuals, even more groundless, if possible, than the generic apprehension just spoken of and that have been dignified in recent years by the name of phobias. Phobia means only "fear" in Greek, but the term is much more satisfying to nervous people than the shorter but too definite English term, dread, or fear. There is acrophobia, or the fear of looking down from a height; claustrophobia, or the fear of narrow places, as the dread of walking through a narrow street because of the sense of oppression that comes with the shut-inness of it. Then there is agoraphobia, market-place dread, or the fear to cross an open space because one has, as it were, grown accustomed to be near buildings and misses their presence. There are many others, indeed as many as there are dislikes in human nature, for any dislike apparently may be exaggerated into a dread. I mention a few at the beginning of the alphabet and some of special significance. There is aerophobia, dread of the air, a symptom sometimes mentioned in connection with hydrophobia; aichmophobia, the dread of pointed tools; ailurophobia, the dread of cats; anthrophobia or the dread of men; pathophobia or the fear of disease, microbophobia or bacillophobia; kenophobia or the dread of emptiness; phthisiophobia or the dread of consumption; zoophobia or the dread of animals; sitophobia or the dread of food, and even phobophobia, the dread of [{613}] dreading. Neuropsychologists seem to take a special pleasure in inventing some new phobia or at least giving us a fine long Greek name for a set of symptoms by no means new and that might well be explained in simpler terms. The most familiar examples are: the fear of lightning, which is more frequently brontophobia, the fear of thunder.

These learned words are all formed on the same etymological principle as hydrophobia, but they are entirely psychic in origin, while hydrophobia, as it is well to explain to patients who think of the word phobia in connection with their symptoms, is, of course, a misnomer for an infectious disease—rabies—which develops as the consequence of a bite of a rabid animal, and the principal symptom of which is not fear of water, but the impossibility of swallowing any liquid because of spasm of the esophageal muscles.

Almost any function of the body may become the subject of a dread or phobia that may interfere even seriously with it. Any disturbance of any function is likely to be emphasized by such dreads. The French have described the basophobia, which makes the patients suffering from beginning tabes dread so much walking that it becomes a much greater effort than it would otherwise be and often interferes with walking rather seriously. Then there is the fear of tremor which exaggerates a tremor due to some organic cause, but yet not necessarily of grave import, nor likely to increase rapidly. Many of the hysterical palsies are really due to dreads, consequent upon some incident, motor or sensory, which produced a profound effect upon the patient's mind. A patient who has been surprised by a digestive vertigo while descending a stairs, even though nothing more happened than the dizziness which required him to grasp the balustrade, will sometimes develop a fear of vertigo that will actually make it difficult for him to go down stairs without such an effort of will as is very exhausting. Even the slightest functions may be thus disturbed. Pitres and Regis described some ten years ago what they called the obsession of blushing, or erythrophobia, the fear of turning red. Patients make themselves extremely miserable in this way. Only training and self-control will help them.

These names are long and mouth-filling and consequently satisfying, and most people who are suffering from a particular phobia are almost sure to think that they have a very special affliction. When the word dread is used instead of the word phobia they are less likely to misunderstand the character of their affection and to realize that it is not a disease but only an unfortunate mental peculiarity that needs control and discipline, and not fostering care. Neurasthenia only means nervous weakness, as we have pointed out, but most people are rather rejoiced when informed that they have so high-sounding a disease as neurasthenia, while to be told that they are nervously weak or suffer from nervous weakness seems quite a come-down from their interesting Greek-designated affection. Most psychiatrists feel that it is better not to give the long Greek term, but to state in simple short Saxon words just what is the matter with the patient. They are suffering from the dread of a height, or the dread of a narrow street, or the dread of open spaces, or the dread of dirt, or of cats, or of whatever else it may be. This makes it easier for them to begin to discipline themselves against the state of mind into which they allow themselves to fall with regard to these various objects, and mental discipline is the only therapeutic adjuvant that is of any avail in [{614}] lessening these conditions. With reasonable perseverance most people can, if not cure themselves of these affections, at least greatly lessen the discomfort due to them. A consideration of particular dreads brings out the specific suggestions that may be made with regard to each and the directions that may be helpful to the patients. Probably the commonest is acrophobia, so that the detailed consideration of it shows the indications for other dreads.

Dread of Heights.—Almost without exception men have a sort of instinctive dread of looking down from a height. In most people this can be conquered to such a degree that almost anyone, if compelled by necessity, can learn to work on a skyscraper and continue to do good work without much bother about the height, though he may have to go up ten to twenty stories, or even more. When he takes up the work at first every workman finds it difficult. It gives most of us a trembly feeling even to sit in our chair and think of looking down from such a height. To see pictures of men standing on the iron frames of skyscrapers twenty or thirty stories up in the air looking down 300 to 500 feet below them gives one a series of little chilly feelings in the back and in many people a goneness or sense of constriction around the abdomen that is almost a girdle feeling. To sit at a window opposite where a skyscraper is going up and to see the men lean over the edge of a beam calling directions of various kinds to workmen below will give most people, even those who are not nervous or especially sensitive, creepy feelings with sometimes a little catch in the breath and an iciness in the hypochondria. It would seem absolutely impossible that we should ever be able to perform these feats of looking from a height, yet experience shows that most of us, after a little training, learn to do it without difficulty.

Even the men who work most confidently have some creepy feelings return to them whenever they stop and think about this and let their eyes wander to the distance below them. It is not difficult for us to walk across a plank raised a foot or two from the ground, though to walk across the same plank at a height of ten feet may be quite a trial and at thirty feet may become quite impossible. This is all due to lack of confidence on our part and there is no reason in the world why, if the plank is amply wide for us at two feet from the ground, it should not be just as wide and safe at 30 or 60 or even 100 feet. This is what the men who have learned to work on skyscrapers have disciplined themselves to. They have learned to disregard the wide vacant space around them and the yawning chasm beneath their feet; they keep their eyes fixed on something in the immediate vicinity, excluding thoughts of all that might happen if they should lose their balance.

Physical Basis.—There is a physical basis in many of these cases that constitutes the underlying occasion, at least, for the development of the psychic dread. Our eyes have grown accustomed to being fixed on near objects. Whenever they are not so fixed we get a feeling of trepidation. Even those who have done a little day-dreaming know that sometimes when they have been looking into space, objects around them have suddenly seemed to be transferred to a long distance and at the same time a curious sense of insecurity came over them. Anyone can get this feeling experimentally by making two large dots on a piece of paper about two inches apart and then gazing between the dots into vacancy beyond the paper as it were, until the dots have a tendency to become four because of the fact that each eye sees [{615}] each of the dots on a part of the retina not corresponding to that on which the other eye sees it (see Fig. 25).