Bodily changes in pain, hunger, fear, and rage

THE ENERGIZING INFLUENCE OF EMOTIONAL EXCITEMENT

The close relation between emotion and muscular action has long been perceived. As Sherrington[1] has pointed out, “Emotion ‘moves’ us, hence the word itself. If developed in intensity, it impels toward vigorous movement. Every vigorous movement of the body ... involves also the less noticeable coöperation of the viscera, especially of the circulatory and respiratory. The extra demand made upon the muscles that move the frame involves a heightened action of the nutrient organs which supply to the muscles the material for their energy.” The researches here reported have revealed a number of unsuspected ways in which muscular action is made more efficient because of emotional disturbances of the viscera. Every one of the visceral changes that have been noted—the cessation of processes in the alimentary canal (thus freeing the energy supply for other parts); the shifting of blood from the abdominal organs, whose activities are deferable, to the organs immediately essential to muscular exertion (the lungs, the heart, the central nervous system); the increased vigor of contraction of the heart; the quick abolition of the effects of muscular fatigue; the mobilizing of energy-giving sugar in the circulation—every one of these visceral changes is directly serviceable in making the organism more effective in the violent display of energy which fear or rage or pain may involve.

“Reservoirs of Power”

That the major emotions have an energizing effect has been commonly recognized.[*] Darwin testified to having heard, “as a proof of the exciting nature of anger, that a man when excessively jaded will sometimes invent imaginary offences and put himself into a passion, unconsciously for the sake of reinvigorating himself; and,” Darwin[2] continues, “since hearing this remark, I have occasionally recognized its full truth.” Under the impulse of fear also, men have been known to achieve extraordinary feats of running and leaping. McDougall[3] cites the instance of an athlete who, when pursued as a boy by a savage animal, leaped over a wall which he could not again “clear” until he attained his full stature and strength. The very unusual abilities, both physical and mental, which men have exhibited in times of stress were dealt with from the psychological point of view by William James[4] in one of his last essays. He suggested that in every person there are “reservoirs of power” which are not ordinarily called upon, but which are nevertheless ready to pour forth streams of energy if only the occasion presents itself. These figurative expressions of the psychologist receive definite and concrete exemplification, so far as the physical exhibitions of power are concerned, in the highly serviceable bodily changes which have been described in the foregoing chapters.

It would doubtless be incorrect to attempt to account for all the increased strength and tireless endurance, which may be experienced in periods of great excitement, on the basis of abundant supplies provided then for muscular contraction, and a special secretion for avoiding or abolishing the depressive influences of fatigue. Tremors, muscular twitchings, the assumption of characteristic attitudes, all indicate that there is an immensely augmented activity of the nervous system—an activity that discharges powerfully even into parts not directly concerned in struggle, as, for example, into the muscles of voice, causing peculiar cries or warning notes; into the muscles of the ears, drawing them back or causing them to stand erect, and into the small muscles about the lips, tightening them and revealing the teeth. The typical appearances of human beings, as well as lower animals, when in the grip of such deeply agitating emotions as fear and rage, are so well recognized as to constitute a primitive and common means of judging the nature of the experience through which the organism is passing. This “pattern” response of the nervous system to an emotion-provoking object or situation is probably capable of bringing into action a much greater number of neurones in the central nervous system than are likely to be concerned in even a supreme act of volition. The nervous impulses delivered to the muscles, furthermore, operate upon organs well supplied with energy-yielding material and well fortified by rapidly circulating blood and by secreted adrenin, against quick loss of power because of accumulating waste. Under such circumstances of excitement the performance of extraordinary feats of strength or endurance is natural enough.[*]

In connection with the conception that strong emotion has a dynamogenic value, it is of interest to note that on occasions when great demands are likely to be placed on the neuro-muscular system in the doing of unusual labors, emotional excitement is not uncommonly an accompaniment. In order to emphasize points in the argument developed thus far, I propose to cite some examples of the association of emotional excitement with remarkable exhibitions of power or resistance to fatigue.

The Excitements and Energies of Competitive Sports

Already in an earlier account (see p. 75) I have mentioned finding sugar in the urine in approximately fifty per cent of a group of college football players after the most exacting game of the season’s play. As is well understood, such games are heralded far and wide, loyal supporters of each college may travel hundreds of miles to attend the contest, enthusiastic meetings of undergraduate students are held in each college to demonstrate their devotion to the team and their confidence in its prowess—indeed, the arguments for victory, the songs, the cheering, are likely to be so disturbing to the players, that before an important contest they are not infrequently removed from college surroundings in order to avoid being overwrought when the contest comes.

On the day of the contest the excitement is multiplied manyfold. There is practically a holiday in college and to a large extent in the city as well. The streets are filled with eager supporters of each team as the hosts begin to gather at the field. As many as 70,000 spectators may be present, each one tense and strongly partisan. The student bands lead the singing, by thousands of voices, of songs which urge to the utmost effort for the college; and, in anticipation, these songs also celebrate the victory.

Into the midst of that huge, cheering, yelling, singing, flag-waving crowd, the players are welcomed in a special outburst of these same demonstrations of enthusiasm. Soon the game begins. The position of every player is known, if not because of previous acquaintance and recognition, because card-diagrams give the information. Every important play is seen by the assembled thousands, and the player who makes it is at once announced to all, and is likely to be honored by his multitudinous college mates in a special cheer, ending in his name. Any player who, by infraction of the rules or failure to do his part, loses ground gained by his team is also known. The man who is “played out” in efforts to win for his team and college, and consequently has to leave the field, is welcomed to the side lines by acclamations suited for a great hero. In short, every effort is made, through the powerful incentives of censure and a flaunting recognition, to make each member of the team realize vividly his responsibility, both personal and as one of a group, for the supreme, all-important result—victory for his college.

This responsibility works tremendously on the emotions of the players. In the dressing room before a critical contest I have seen a “gridiron warrior,” ready in canvas suit, cleated shoes, and leather helmet, sitting grimly on a bench, his fists clenched, his jaws tight, and his face the color of clay. He performed wonderfully when the game began, and after it was over there was a large percentage of sugar in his urine! Probably no sport requires a more sustained and extreme display of neuro-muscular effort than American football. And from the foregoing description of the conditions that surround the contests it is easy to realize that they conspire to arouse in the players excitements which would bring forth very efficiently the bodily reserves for use in the fierce struggle which the game requires.

What is true of football is true, though perhaps to a less degree, of the racing sports, as running and rowing. Again great multitudes attend the events, the contests are followed closely from beginning to end, and as the goal is approached the cheering and cries for victory gather in volume and intensity as if arranged for a thrilling climax. The whole setting is most highly favorable to the dramatic development of an acme of excitement as the moment for the last desperate effort to win is put forth.

Frenzy and Endurance in Ceremonial and Other Dances

Dancing, which formed a significant feature of primitive rituals, has always been accompanied by exciting conditions, and not unusually was an exhibition of remarkable endurance. In the transfer of the Ark to Zion there were processions and sacrifices, and King David “danced before the Lord with all his might.” Mooney[5] in his account of dances among the American Indians tells of a young man who in one of the ceremonials danced three days and nights without food, drink or sleep. In such a terrible ordeal the favoring presence of others, who through group action help to stimulate both the excitement and the activities, must be an important element in prolonging the efforts of the individual.

In the history of religious manias[6] there are many instances of large numbers of people becoming frenzied and then showing extraordinary endurance while dancing. In 1374 a mania broke forth in Germany, the Netherlands and France, in which the victims claimed to dance in honor of Saint John. Men and women went about dancing hand in hand, in pairs, or in a circle, on the streets, in the churches, at their homes, or wherever they might be, hour after hour without rest. While dancing they sang, uttered cries, and saw visions. Whole companies of these crazy fanatics went dancing along the public roads and into the cities, until they had to be interfered with.

In 1740 an extraordinary sect, known as the “Jumpers,” arose in Wales. According to the description given by Wesley, their exercises were not unlike those of certain frenzied states among the Indians. “After the preaching was over,” Wesley[7] wrote, “anyone who pleased gave out a verse of a hymn; and this they sung over and over again, with all their might and main, thirty or forty times, till some of them worked themselves into a sort of drunkenness or madness; they were then violently agitated, and leaped up and down in all manner of postures, frequently for hours together.” There were sometimes thousands at a single meeting of the Jumpers, shouting out their excitement and ready to leap for joy.[8] Wesley has also described instances of tremendous emotional outburst at Methodist meetings which he addressed. “Some were torn with a kind of convulsive motion in every part of their bodies, and that so violently that often four or five persons could not hold one of them. I have seen many hysterical or epileptic fits,” he wrote, “but none of them were like these in many respects.”

Among the dervishes[9] likewise the dance is accompanied by intense excitement and apparently tireless movements. “The cries of ‘Yâ Allah!’ are increased doubly, as also those of ‘Yâ Hoo!’ with frightful howlings shrieked by the dervishes together in the dance.”... “There was no regularity in their dancing, but each seemed to be performing the antics of a madman; now moving his body up and down; the next moment turning round, then using odd gesticulations with his arms, next jumping, and sometimes screaming.”... “At the moment when they would seem to stop from sheer exhaustion the sheikh makes a point of exciting them to new efforts by walking through their midst, making also himself most violent movements. He is next replaced by two elders, who double the quickness of the step and the agitation of the body; they even straighten themselves up from time to time, and excite the envy or emulation of others in their astonishing efforts to continue the dance until their strength is entirely exhausted.” Such is the frenzy thus developed that the performers may be subjected to severe pain, yet only show signs of elation.

In all these dances the two most marked features are the intense excitement of those who engage in them and the very remarkable physical endurance which they manifest. Although there is no direct evidence, such as was obtained in examining the football players, that bodily changes favorable to great neuro-muscular exertion are developed in these furies of fanaticism, it is highly probable that they are so developed, and that the feats of fortitude which are performed are to a large extent explicable on the basis of a “tapping of the reservoirs of power” through the emotional excitement.

The Fierce Emotions and Struggles of Battle

Throughout the discussion of the probable significance of the bodily changes in pain and great emotion, the value of these changes in the struggles of conflict or escape was emphasized. In human beings as well as in lower animals the wildest passions are aroused when the necessities of combat become urgent. One needs only to glance at the history of warfare to observe that when the primitive emotions of anger and hatred are permitted full sway, men who have been considerate and thoughtful of their fellows and their fellows’ rights suddenly may turn into infuriated savages, slaughtering innocent women and children, mutilating the wounded, burning, ravaging, and looting, with all the wild fervor of demons. It is in such excesses of emotional turbulence that the most astonishing instances of prolonged exertion and incredible endurance are to be found.

Probably the fiercest struggles between men that are recorded are those which occurred when the wager of battle was a means of determining innocence or guilt. In the corners of the plot selected for the combat a bier was prepared for each participant, as a symbol that the struggle was for life or death. Each was attended by his relatives and followers, and by his father confessor.[10] After each had prayed to God for help in the coming combat, the weapons were selected, the sacrament was administered, and the battle was begun. The principals fought to the end with continuous and brutal ferocity, resembling the desperate encounters of wild beasts. A fairly illustrative example is furnished in an incident which followed the assassination of Charles the Good of Flanders in 1127. One of the accomplices, a knight named Guy, was challenged for complicity by another named Herman. Both were renowned warriors. Herman was speedily unhorsed by Guy, who with his lance frustrated all Herman’s attempts to remount. Then Herman disabled Guy’s horse, and the combat was renewed on foot with swords. Equally skilful in fence, they continued the struggle till fatigue compelled them to drop sword and shield, whereupon they wrestled for the mastery. Guy threw his antagonist, fell on him, and beat him in the face with his gauntlets till he seemed to be motionless; but Herman had quietly slipped his hand below the other’s coat of mail and, grasping the testicles, with a mighty effort wrenched them away. Immediately Guy fell over and expired.[11] In such terrific fights as these, conducted in the extremes of rage and hate, the mechanisms for reënforcing the parts of the body which are of primary importance in the struggle are brought fully into action and are of utmost value in securing victory.

The Stimulating Influence of Witnesses and of Music

It is noteworthy that in all the instances thus far cited—in the great games, in dancing, and in fighting—two factors are present that are well known to have an augmenting effect both in the full development of emotions and in the performance of unusual muscular labors. One of these is the crowd of witnesses or participants, who contribute the “mob spirit” that tends to carry the actions of the individual far beyond the limits set by any personal considerations or prudencies. The other is the influence of music. As Darwin long ago indicated, music has a wonderful power of recalling in a vague and indefinite manner strong emotions which have been felt by our ancestors in long-past ages. Especially is this true of martial music. For the grim purposes of war the reed and the lute are grotesquely ill-suited; to rouse men to action strident brass and the jarring instruments of percussion are used in full force. The influence of martial music on some persons is so profound as to cause the muscles to tremble and tears to come to the eyes—both indications of the deep stirring of emotional responses in the body. And when deeds of fortitude and fierce exertion are to be performed the effectiveness of such music in rousing the aggressive emotions has long been recognized. The Romans charged their foes amid the blasts of trumpets and horns. The ancient Germans rushed to battle, their forces spurred by the sounds of drums, flutes, cymbals and clarions. There is a tradition that the Hungarian troops are the worst in Europe, until their bands begin to play—then they are the best! The late General Linevitch is quoted as saying: “Music is one of the most vital ammunitions of the Russian army. Without music a Russian soldier would be dull, cowardly, brutal and inefficient. From music he absorbs a magic power of endurance, and forgets the sufferings and mortality. It is a divine dynamite.” And Napoleon is said to have testified that the weird and barbaric tunes of the Cossack regiments infuriated them to such rage that they wiped out the cream of his army.[12] A careful consideration of the use of martial music in warfare would perhaps bring further interesting evidence that its function is to reënforce the bodily changes that attend the belligerent emotions.

Only a few instances of the combination of extreme pain, rage, terror or excitement, and tremendous muscular power have been given in the preceding pages. Doubtless in numerous other conditions these two groups of phenomena occur together. In the lives of firemen and the police, in the experiences of escaping prisoners, of shipwrecked sailors, in the struggles between pioneers and their savage enemies, in accounts of forced marches or retreats, search would reveal many examples of such bodily disturbances as have been described in earlier chapters as augmenting the effectiveness of muscular efforts, and such exhibitions of power or endurance as are evidently far beyond the ordinary. There is every reason for believing that, were the conditions favorable to experimental testing, it would be possible to demonstrate and perhaps to measure the addition to the dynamics of bodily action that appears as the accompaniment of violent emotional disturbance.

The Feeling of Power

In this connection it is highly significant that in times of strong excitement there is not infrequent testimony to a sense of overwhelming power that sweeps in like a sudden tide and lifts the person to a new high level of ability. A friend of mine, whose nature is somewhat choleric, has told me that when he is seized with anger, he is also possessed by an intense conviction that he could crush and utterly destroy the object of his hostility. And I have heard a football player confess that just before the final game such an access of strength seemed to come to him that he felt able, on the signal, to crouch and with a jump go crashing through any ordinary door. There is intense satisfaction in these moments of supreme elation, when the body is at its acme of accomplishment. And it is altogether probable that the critical dangers of adventure have a fascination because fear is thrilling, and extrication from a predicament, by calling forth all the bodily resources and setting them to meet the challenge of the difficulty, yields many of the joys of conquest. For these reasons vigorous men go forth to seek dangers and to run large chances of serious injury. “Danger makes us more alive. We so love to strive that we come to love the fear that gives us strength for conflict. Fear is not only something to be escaped from to a place or state of safety, but welcomed as an arsenal of augmented strength.”[13] And thus in the hazardous sports, in mountain climbing, in the hunting of big game, and in the tremendous adventure of war, risks and excitement and the sense of power surge up together, setting free unsuspected energies, and bringing vividly to consciousness memorable fresh revelations of the possibilities of achievement.

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