of
nervous prostration which last for years might be cured in as many
months if the truth about nerve habits were recognized and acted upon.

Nerves can form bad habits and they can form good habits, but of all
the bad habits formed by nerves perhaps the very worst is the habit of
being ill. These bad habits of illness engender an unwillingness to let
go of them. They seem so real. "I do not want to suffer like this," I
hear an invalid say; "if it were merely a habit don't you think I would
throw it off in a minute?"

I knew a young physician who had made somewhat of a local reputation in
the care of nerves, and a man living in a far-distant country, who had
been for some time a chronic invalid, happened by accident to hear of
him. My friend was surprised to receive a letter from this man,
offering to pay him the full amount of all fees he would earn in one
month and as much more as he might ask if he would spend that time in
the house with him and attempt his cure.

Always interested in new phases of nerves, and having no serious case
on hand himself at the time, he assented and went with great interest
on this long journey to, as he hoped, cure one man. When he arrived he
found his patient most charming. He listened attentively to the account
of his years of illness, inquired of others in the house with him, and
then went to bed and to sleep. In the morning he woke with a sense of
unexplained depression. In searching about for the cause he went over
his interviews of the day before and found a doubt in his mind which he
would hardly acknowledge; but by the end of the next day he said to
himself: "What a fool I was to come so far without a more complete
knowledge of what I was coming to! This man has been well for years and
does not know it. It is the old habit of his illness that is on him;
the illness itself must have left him ten years ago."

The next day--the first thing after breakfast--he took a long walk in
order to make up his mind what to do, and finally decided that he had
engaged to stay one month and must keep to his promise. It would not do
to tell the invalid the truth--the poor man would not believe it. He
was self-willed and self-centered, and his pains and discomforts, which
came simply from old habits of illness, were as real to him as if they
had been genuine. Several physicians had emphasized his belief that he
was ill. One doctor--so my friend was told--who saw clearly the truth
of the case, ve