Handicaps of Childhood

THE CHILD WHO SULKS

III
THE CHILD WHO SULKS

As I write, there comes before my mind's eye the weary face and form of an old acquaintance, with whose life history I am familiar. This man, though not yet in his forties, and with health unbroken by any serious disease, is nevertheless one of the unemployable. He is willing enough to work, he affirms, and in his time has had many positions. But he has been able to hold none of these. There has always developed friction between him and his employer or between him and fellow-employees. For a few days, perhaps a few weeks, after gaining a new position, things go smoothly with him. He is confident, even enthusiastic. Then, for no apparent reasons, he acquires a "grouch." He conceives the idea that his "job" is not sufficiently remunerative, or that he is not being treated with due respect. Sometimes he gives vent to his feelings in words that promptly effect his dismissal. More often, giving no explanation, he sullenly stops work of his own accord.

Yet he began life with seemingly excellent prospects. His parents were well to do and could give him every educational advantage. And in early childhood he was both a bright boy and a well-behaved boy. A little later, when he began to go to school, there was a noticeable change in his disposition. His parents learned that he did not associate with other boys as readily as might be desired. They noticed that he developed a tendency to keep much by himself, to be uncommunicative, to smile seldom—in fine, to sulk. But, though they noticed this, they fancied it was only a passing phase which he would in time outgrow. They failed to take his sulkiness seriously—failed, that is to say, to recognise in it a sign that something was amiss which should be seriously investigated. To-day, perhaps wholly because no investigation was made and no corrective treatment attempted, this unfortunate man is finding life a heavy burden.

With all the emphasis at my command I would say, When a child frequently sulks, it is always a sure indication of mental or nervous stress. If parents have a child who is sulky, they should neither ignore the sulkiness nor accuse him of wilful naughtiness and try to improve him by scoldings and punishments. They should recognise, in his habit of sulking, evidence of one of two things: either that they are not bringing him up as they should, or that he is suffering from some unsuspected physical disability, of which his sullen, morose, peevish disposition is symptomatic. It may be that this disability is an irremediable one, such as organic weakness of the brain. But the chances are that it is caused by functional disturbances easily discovered and easily cured. The parent is neglecting his full duty to his child if he fail to inquire into the child's physical condition.

One of the commonest causes of sulkiness is nothing more or less than indigestion. Everybody knows that if a baby's food disagrees with him the baby is pretty sure to be fretful and irritable. But parents too often forget that, in the case of older children, mental and moral eccentricities may be traced to the same cause. When food is not properly digested, there is an impoverishing and poisoning of the blood. This means that the brain is poorly nourished, and a poorly nourished brain means a general weakening of the power to think and to will. It means, too, a heightening of nervous irritability, coupled with a tendency to take a gloomy view of life. Under these circumstances, it is not at all surprising to find sulkiness becoming characteristic of a child of any age, as in a typical case reported by Doctor T. A. Williams, of Washington, a specialist in the treatment of the nervous diseases of children.

Doctor Williams' patient was a ten-year-old girl, the daughter of a clergyman. She had been lovingly reared, and until the age of nine had been easy to manage, vivacious, and happy. Then there came a marked change in her behaviour. She became easily irritated, had frequent crying spells, and frequent fits of sulkiness. Besides this, she had difficulty in studying. Thinking that she had been overworking, her parents took her out of school, although her mother noticed that she was less inclined to sulk when kept busy.

What Doctor Williams found, after a long and careful examination of the girl and questioning of her parents, was unmistakable evidence of nerve deficiency, due chiefly to faulty diet, and aggravated by "parental interference, well meant, but entirely injudicious." She had been eating oatmeal and meat to excess, had been taking her principal meal at night, and had gone to bed soon after it. Doctor Williams ordered that her allowance of meat and oatmeal be cut down, that she eat her principal meal at noon, and that she stay up for at least an hour after her evening meal. Further, he gave these directions:

"On waking in the morning, the child must make a practice of getting up at once, instead of ruminating in bed. Parents must avoid criticising her about trifles, and her behaviour must be left to take care of itself at present. Her affections should be indulged and reciprocated. She must be given plenty to do and sent back to school in a few days."

Under this treatment the girl's disposition began immediately to improve. Within two weeks her mother reported to Doctor Williams that she was as "happy and joyous" as she had formerly been. No longer was her stomach being loaded with food it could not digest; and with the removal of this source of toxic irritation, together with the suggested changes in her parents' handling of her, she had become a different child.

On the other hand, underfeeding may be, and often is, a cause of sulkiness, owing to the inadequate nourishment the underfed child's brain receives and the general weakness of his system. Sulkiness, again, may be associated with an insufficiency of physical exercise, or with failure to make sure that the child's living and sleeping quarters are properly ventilated. Fresh air is as essential as digestible food to the maintenance of nervous balance. When, as sometimes happens, children are obliged to spend their school hours in dusty, ill-ventilated classrooms, when they return to homes with few windows, and these seldom open, and when they sleep in a tainted, vitiated atmosphere, it is indeed hard for them to see life in bright colours. Besides which, to prevent or cure sulkiness in a child, it is not enough to keep school and home well ventilated, and let the child play outdoors as much as possible. It is necessary also to see to it that the child is so conditioned that he will have no difficulty in adequately breathing the fresh outdoor air.

To a physician in a Western city there was brought a boy, nine years old, with a face so flat, expressionless, and frog-like, that persons who knew him thought he was feeble-minded. His school teacher reported that his mind seemed a blank and that he was also hard of hearing. His parents complained that he was selfish and sullen. The boy seemed doomed to a life of misery.

But, making a physical examination of him, the doctor found reason to think otherwise. He discovered no real brain defect. In the cavity back of the boy's nose he found an abnormal growth of adenoid-tissue that of itself might account for the boy's stupidity and sulky disposition, as well as for his deafness. The diseased tissue acted as an irritant and a drag on his nervous energy; and, in addition, by interfering with the intake of oxygen it lowered the nutrition of the brain.

The adenoid growth was removed. Gradually the appearance of the unfortunate boy's face changed for the better. His hearing improved. He began to take an interest in school work, and studied to real advantage. Consideration for others took the place of his habitual selfishness, and he sulked no more.

Adenoids, dullness, deafness, and sullenness often are intimately associated. The parents of a sulky child will therefore do well to ascertain whether adenoid trouble is present. Its presence is usually plainly indicated by the flat, insipid appearance of the victim's face and by his habit of breathing through his mouth, particularly when asleep. If there is any reason to suspect adenoids, parents should take their children to a competent physician without delay.

Further, and on general principles, they should have their children's teeth thoroughly examined by a good dentist. A child whose teeth are decayed is a child suffering both from nerve irritation and from some degree of poisoning, due to his swallowing food that has become infected by its contact with the germs of dental caries. Such a child has abundant reason to feel uncomfortable, pessimistic, and sullen. So has a child whose teeth, if not decayed, are crowded together.

Yet another common, and often unsuspected, physical cause of sulkiness in children is eye-strain. Most of us are under the impression that when a person is afflicted with eye-strain he is certain to have painful or, at least, unpleasant sensations in his eyes. This is by no means always the case. During childhood and youth there may be no telltale eye symptoms at all. But defective eyesight may give rise to various nervous conditions; sulkiness is one manifestation.

An eight-year-old girl, previously in good health, and with no more nervousness than is displayed by the average child, began to show traits that worried her parents. She became difficult to control, querulous, and sullen to an extent that bordered on melancholia. In addition, she complained of indigestion and headache, symptoms which caused her parents to take her to a physician for treatment. His medicines and the course of diet he prescribed did her no good, and another physician was consulted. Then began for this unfortunate little girl a weary round of examinations by doctor after doctor. Every means of curing her headaches and indigestion seemed unavailing, and her nervousness and sullenness increased apace. Finally, one physician, in spite of the fact that the girl's eyesight seemed normal, suggested that she be examined by an eye specialist. Then, for the first time, it was discovered that she had a serious ocular defect. According to Doctor Percy R. Wood, who reported the case for the benefit of the medical profession in general, within six months after she first put on spectacles the girl was entirely free from digestive disturbances, her head had ceased to ache, and her melancholy moroseness had given way to normal good nature.

Occasionally sulkiness results from some special form of nervous disease. It may be an initial symptom of that strange malady of childhood, chorea. A child affected with chorea is restless, uneasy, and weak in muscular control. Muscles of the face twitch, the child has difficulty in using his hands, and, in later stages of the disease, the arms and legs make random, involuntary movements. In addition, just before or about the time the muscular weakness begins, there are sometimes signs of mental disturbance, described as follows by an authority on nervous diseases:

"These symptoms consist of a slight loss of memory and inability of the patients to apply themselves to their studies as well and continuously as formerly. Children who were previously of an obedient and mild disposition become irritable, obstinate, and perverse. They become insubordinate, lose their love of play, and are not as affectionate as was their wont. These phenomena are naturally looked upon as indubitable evidences of wilfulness, and are punished accordingly, thus frequently precipitating and aggravating the course of the disease."

Happily, sulkiness, as an early symptom of chorea, or of other grave nervous and mental disorders, is of comparatively infrequent occurrence. The things the parents of a sulky child need more particularly to inquire into are the amount and character of the food the child eats, the state of his digestion, his habits of exercise, the ventilation of the rooms in which he spends most of his time, the condition of his nose, mouth, and teeth, and his ability to see and hear distinctly. But it must be admitted that any or all of these common physical causes of sulkiness may be present, and the afflicted child nevertheless contrive to get along without sulking. And, on the opposite, when a child thus afflicted does sulk, the correction of the physical trouble is not always followed by a cessation of the sulkiness. For, precisely as in the case of the child who remains mentally backward after the correction of bodily defects responsible for his backwardness, it may be that a habit of sulking has become established. What is much worse, it may also be that the sulky child has a home environment that makes sulking almost inevitable.

Here we come to the central fact in the whole problem of sulkiness, for, nine cases out of ten, it is the home environment—the training a child receives, the parents' attitude towards him—that is primarily responsible for his sulking. The healthiest child in the world will sulk if his parents surround him with a sulk-breeding environment. He will sulk because it is child nature to react appropriately to the suggestions received from the environment. Every psychologist will bear out this statement. It also finds confirmation in the everyday experiences of all observant persons who have an opportunity to study children. It is all very well to exhort a child to be cheerful, to speak of "developing his will-power." But if the child's home surroundings are such as to fill his mind with depressing, disturbing ideas, he is bound to be influenced in his behaviour by these ideas. Parents are prone to forget this. They blame the sulky child when, in all justice, they ought to blame themselves.

Recently a veteran New England school teacher, talking with me on this question of sulkiness, said:

"There are times when I am tempted to believe that the home influence is everything, and that conditions of physical ill health have virtually nothing to do with sulkiness. Of course, I know that in reality physical conditions have to be taken into account, but my experiences with sulky children have been such that now, whenever I find a sulky child, I ask myself the question, 'What is wrong in that child's home?' If I have opportunity to investigate, I invariably find that something is wrong.

"My pupils are girls, eight and nine years old. Among them last year was one bright, attractive-looking little girl, to whom I felt drawn when she first appeared in the class. But I soon discovered that she was a difficult child. She neglected her school work, did in a careless, indifferent manner whatever she was obliged to do, and sulked at slight provocation. She had been examined by the school physician, who gave her a clean bill of health. My suspicion deepened that the child was the victim of an unfavourable home influence, and one day I suggested this to the principal of the school.

"'I am sure you are wrong,' said he. 'I happen to know the family. They are first-rate people, in good circumstances.'

"A little later, after I had again spoken to him of the girl's misconduct and sullenness, he told me:

"'You were right and I was wrong. Outwardly, everything seemed well with that family. But I now find that the parents have for some time been on the verge of seeking a divorce. They are bitter against each other and dispute over the child, giving her contrary orders. The mother will tell her to do something, the father will tell her not to do it. No wonder she is sullen and hard to deal with. She is to be taken from them and put in a good home.'

"This is an extreme instance, I have no doubt. But it is in line with what I am observing all the time. Therefore, I insist that sulkiness in children is, as a rule, a sure sign of unwise training in the home."

Many parents, though wholly unappreciative of the fact, inspire sulkiness in their children by setting them an example of sulkiness. A striking instance has lately come under my personal observation, in the experience of a mother who is continually being annoyed by the whining, sulky ways of her four-year-old daughter. She scolds the girl, she spanks her, but all to no good. Not once does it seem to occur to the mother that possibly her own habit of sulking when things do not go right may be blamed for the sulkiness of her child. She is precisely the kind of woman to whom the learned Professor Paul Dubois addresses these scathing words:

"You, madam, who complain of the irritability of your little girl, could you not suppress your own?... Remember the proverb, 'The fruit does not fall far from the tree.'"

This factor of example in the causing of sulkiness is something that parents frequently ignore. In a general way they realise that their children are likely to imitate them, but they do not appreciate the subtle force which imitation exercises in forming the mental states and moral attitudes of the young. Time and again we see parents talking and acting as though children had no eyes or ears or memories; as though, indeed, they were beings quite insensitive to the sights and sounds of their surroundings.

Yet normal children are the most sensitive and the most "suggestible" of beings. Let father snarl and mother sulk, and little Johnny or Mary may be pretty confidently counted on to snarl and sulk likewise—unless by a happy chance Johnny and Mary have playmates or relatives whose lives radiate sufficiently strong suggestions of cheerfulness to offset the parents' unhappy influence. Instruction is much, but example is more. Or, as wise Pastor Witte puts it, "Instruction begins, example accomplishes."

But, if the parental example is good, if the child's physical condition is excellent, and if he nevertheless is a sulker—what then? Again, it must be insisted that the trouble rests with some fault in his upbringing, some error in the parental policy. If there is more than one child in the family, it may be that the sulkiness is a symptom of jealousy. The parents should ask themselves in all seriousness whether they have given this particular child any reason to sulk, by showing greater favour, or seeming to show greater favour, to his brothers and sisters. Or, possibly, the sulkiness is indicative, not of jealousy, but of a feeling of inferiority due to the child's fear that he is not quite so bright as other children. In that case the parents may be sure that in some way, however unwittingly, they have failed to bring into their child's life enough happiness and joy to prevent the feeling of inferiority from becoming dominant in his mind. Perhaps, for the matter of that, they have themselves been instrumental in forcing on the child recognition of his inferior mental status.

There are parents whose behaviour when dealing with a mentally retarded child is—often quite unconsciously—that of a censorious judge upbraiding a criminal. They nag, they harass, they urge the child to greater effort, never questioning that he can of his own accord improve his ability to learn. Perhaps he is mentally deficient, perhaps he is suffering from some remediable physical cause of retardation, perhaps the method by which he is being taught is not suited to his type of mind. To all these possibilities the parents do not give a moment's thought. The child is stupid; it must be his fault; he should be forced to mend his ways. So they pester the little unfortunate. And when to retardation he gradually adds sullenness, they are more incensed than before. But, in point of cold fact, whose is the fault? Not the child's, surely. Perpetual nagging is a first-class means of producing sulkiness in any child, whether he be mentally retarded, unusually bright, or just a plain "average" child.

Another almost equally efficacious means is untruthfulness on the part of parents in their relations with the child. There are some parents who think it not at all amiss to deceive their children. They make promises to them which they do not intend to keep. They threaten them with punishments that never materialise. They make untruthful replies to questions the children put to them. The children are not imbeciles. They note these broken promises, these empty threats, these untruthful replies. They lose faith in their parents, and sometimes it happens that their loss of faith manifests itself in a gloomy brooding, a sullen resentment against the parents. The parents, on their side, regard the sulky child as maliciously naughty and evil-minded. Not an inkling do they have of their own share in the making of the condition of which they complain. They blame only the child.

Even the practice, common among parents, of telling their children "white lies" with regard to delicate matters is at times productive of sulkiness as a symptom of nervousness due to inner mental conflict. Almost every child is at an early age inquisitive about his origin and the manner of his coming into the world. If his questions on these subjects are evaded or answered in a fantastic way, the child's curiosity is likely to be increased rather than satisfied. In exceptional cases there may result an obsessional pondering of the evaded topic, intensified when the child discovers that his parents have deceived him. Extreme nervousness, accompanied with sullenness, is then a likely result. But, apart altogether from the possibility that nervousness and sulkiness may be caused by parental deception of this sort, the danger of losing control over their children is itself serious enough to warn parents to be straightforward in answering their children's queries regarding sex subjects.

Havelock Ellis, the foremost authority on the psychology of sex, does not exaggerate when he assures us:

"Even if there were no other reasons against telling children fairy tales of sex instead of the real facts, there is one reason which ought to be decisive with every mother who values her influence over her child. He will very quickly discover, either by information from others or by his own natural intelligence, that the fairy tale that was told him in reply to a question about a simple matter of fact was a lie. With that discovery, his mother's influence over him in all such matters vanishes forever, for not only has a child a horror of being duped, but he is extremely sensitive about a rebuff of this kind, and never repeats what he has been made to feel was a mistake to be ashamed of. He will not trouble his mother with any more questions on this matter; he will not confide in her; he will himself learn the art of telling 'fairy tales' about sex matters. He had turned to his mother in trust, she had not responded with equal trust, and she must suffer the punishment, as Henriette Fürth puts it, of seeing 'the love and trust of her son stolen from her by the first boy he makes friends with in the street.'"[5]

Joy is a natural consequence of a child's affection for, and faith in, his parents. Resentfulness, bitterness, sullenness, are natural consequences of loss of affection and faith. The parents of a sullen child must always ask themselves if, through deception of any sort, they have forfeited the child's esteem for them. They must further ask themselves if, by intentional or unintentional unkindness of a persistent sort, they have embittered the child. They must also put to themselves the question: "Have I in some way erred so as to make my child sullen by the force of a bad example?" And, lastly, they must not forget to probe, through the aid of a skilled physician, for possible physical causes of mental and nervous stress.

If they do not adopt this course, if they allow the child to go on sulking, or if they increase his sulkiness by mishandling him, let me again warn them that they may be hopelessly limiting his chances for success and happiness in manhood. Character distortions of some sort are certain to result; even his bodily health itself may be affected. For, just as sulkiness often is a product of some physical disorder, so may it, in turn, become a cause of physical disorder. To sulk is essentially to be in a disturbed emotional state, and recent scientific research has established that such states, particularly if intense or long continued, have a highly unfavourable influence on the bodily organism. This has been most clearly shown in the case of anger and worry, the former of which always is, while the latter often is, basic in sulkiness.

All parents, indeed, ought to familiarise themselves with the physiology of anger and worry. Once really appreciative of the possible bodily effects of these emotional states, they would, on the one hand, be more careful to train their children early in emotional control, and, on the other, would be more chary about subjecting them to conditions involving emotional stress. Anger—and, equally, worry—is liable, for one thing, to derange profoundly the workings of the digestive organs. How profoundly it may derange them has recently been demonstrated conclusively by some remarkable scientific observations on animals and human beings.

A prime requisite to good digestion is a free flow of saliva and gastric juice when food is chewed. There must literally be a preparatory automatic "watering" of the mouth and stomach. Ordinarily, this begins as soon as food is taken into the mouth—if one is hungry, it begins at the mere sight of food. But it has been proved that, no matter how appetising the food, the digestive flow stops almost altogether under the influence of anger.

This was first demonstrated by a Russian physiologist, Pawlow, experimenting with dogs so conditioned that he could see into their throats and stomachs. When a dog was irritated—as by showing it a cat which it was prevented from attacking—the flow of saliva and gastric juice instantly stopped, and did not begin again for some time after the dog had been calmed. Even a slight degree of irritability in the animal was sufficient to stop gastric secretion.

The same result has been repeatedly recorded by other scientists experimenting with cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, children, and full-grown men and women. One observer, a medical man named Hornborg, had as a patient a small boy in whom disease had caused an external opening large enough to allow a view of the workings of the stomach. Doctor Hornborg found that if he gave this boy food, after first angering him, his eating of the food was not accompanied by a flow of the gastric juice, which ordinarily flowed promptly and freely.

And, besides stopping the secretory processes of the stomach, anger stops its muscular movements as well, and also the movements of almost all the alimentary tract. Hence, food eaten during or soon after an outburst of anger or petulance is not properly taken up by the alimentary canal for final digestion, absorption, and elimination. Which means, it need scarcely be pointed out, that every part of the body suffers in some degree through diminished nutrition. And certain specific discomforts are likely to be experienced—sour stomach, gastric pains, headache, and so forth.

Equally striking is the effect of anger on the liver. One most important function of the liver is to store glycogen, or "animal starch," which is a source of energy when liberated from the liver into the blood in the form of sugar. Under normal conditions, an exceedingly small amount of sugar—all the body requires—is liberated. The liberation of a greater amount is a waste; and, if long continued, its excessive liberation has a fatally weakening effect on the system, constituting the serious disease known as diabetes.

Now, as has lately been proved by an American investigator, Doctor W. B. Cannon, of Harvard University, anger, or strong emotional excitement of any sort, immediately causes the liver to liberate sugar in excess. Doctor Cannon found this to be true in the case of both animals and human beings. Almost always a man examined after he had been angry or excited showed clear indications in the liquids of his body of glycosuria, or excessive sugar. Here is Doctor Cannon's summary of one of his most interesting observations:

"C. H. Fiske and I examined twenty-five members of the Harvard University football squad immediately after the final and most exciting contest of 1913, and found sugar in twelve cases. Five of these positive cases were among substitutes not called upon to enter the game. The only excited spectator of the Harvard victory who was examined also had a marked glycosuria, which on the following day had disappeared."[6]

Further than this, on testing the blood of excited and angry animals and people, Doctor Cannon discovered that it held in excess another substance which, like sugar, is usually present in the circulation in exceedingly minute quantities.

This substance, called adrenin, has some extraordinary properties. It is secreted by two small glands back of the kidneys. If artificially extracted and injected into the blood of a human being in any appreciable amount, it instantly has the effect of creating a sharp rise in blood pressure, the blood vessels being constricted and the heart beat appreciably increased. It also alters the distribution of the blood, driving it from the abdomen to the head and limbs. And for the time being it enormously increases muscular power and abolishes all feeling of fatigue.

Exactly similar effects, scientific research has proved, are brought about by the quantity of adrenin set free in the blood during periods of anger or other emotional stress. That is to say, not only does anger temporarily stop stomach action and abnormally stimulate the sugar-releasing function of the liver: it also imposes an unusual strain on the heart and the blood vessels.

Likewise with worry. It affects the heart, blood vessels, liver, and digestive organs as anger does. Even in the lower animals, and when occurring in comparatively slight degree, worry puts a stop to stomach movements and digestive secretions. Thus, in discussing with me the physiology of worry, Doctor Cannon stated:

"To give a significant illustration of how worry affects animals, as well as people, I might mention the case of a young male cat, the movements of whose stomach I studied by the aid of the Röntgen rays.

"For observation purposes, it was necessary to attach the cat to a holder. He made no resistance when this was done, but kept up a slight twitching of his tail from side to side, indicating that he was at least somewhat anxious as to what was going to happen to him.

"For more than an hour I watched his stomach by means of the rays, and during that time there was not the slightest beginning of peristaltic activity, the waves of muscular contraction being entirely absent.

"In another instance, that of a female cat with kittens, something happened to create an anxious mood while the cat was attached to the holder. Until that moment the cat had been contented, and the work of digestion was proceeding normally. But now the movements of the stomach entirely ceased, and the gastric wall became relaxed. Only after the cat had been petted and began to purr did the stomach movements start again.

"I have observed the same thing in dogs and guinea pigs. A very slight emotional disturbance is enough to affect their digestion unfavourably."

Affecting specifically the brain, heart, arteries, stomach, intestines, liver, and glands of internal secretion, worry also has a general adverse effect on the nervous system.

This adverse effect is unmistakably expressed by the haggard, drawn, gaunt aspect of the man who habitually worries, and by his persistent sensations of fatigue. What has happened is that his nerve cells are being deprived of the nutrition they need in order to energise him properly. When, on the contrary, the worrier succeeds in changing his mental state—when he contrives to look at things confidently and contentedly—then, in the words of Professor George Van Ness Dearborn, there is a resultant and most beneficial increase in "the operative enthusiasm of the nervous system and of its affectors, the muscles and the glands."

The moral to parents is obvious. Keep children as joyous and happy as possible. By instruction and example, start them early in the path of emotional control. Protect them from needless causes of fear, worry, and anger. And make special efforts to prevent the development or continuance of that curious and most injurious mental attitude—the attitude of sulkiness—grounded in anger and frequently grounded also in sentiments of worry, envy, hatred, and even despair.

JEALOUSY

IV
JEALOUSY

In a small country town there lived a family of three persons—father, mother, and young son. Comfortably circumstanced, the parents testified their affection for their only child by loving care and gifts innumerable. Their great aim in life seemed to be to bring joy and pleasure into his life. The boy, for his part, reciprocated their love, and, though of a somewhat nervous temperament, was bright, vivacious, and amiable. There was nothing to mar the happiness of the family circle, which, to the delight of both parents, was one day enlarged by the addition of a little daughter.

They had taken it for granted that the coming of this baby sister would be equally pleasing to their boy, then nearly twelve years old. But his attitude towards her was indifferent, even cold; and, as time passed, he showed a dislike for the child as inexplicable as it was disappointing to his father and mother. Also, his disposition gradually changed. He was no longer high-spirited, but became moody and depressed. He would sit by himself for hours, lost in mournful reverie. His parents, rightly suspecting that something was preying on his mind, tried to get his confidence. He put them off with evasive answers, or brusquely asserted that he was "all right."

The true explanation came to them in startling and gruesome fashion. Late one afternoon, his father being absent from the house and his mother occupied downstairs, the boy made his way to the room, where his tiny sister was peacefully asleep in her crib. Only a short time passed before his mother's return upstairs, but in the interval the little one had been smothered to death by her jealous brother.

Such an instance of juvenile crime incited by the demon of jealousy is fortunately rare. But it by no means stands alone, and while the hand of reason usually restrains even jealous children, in no individual case is it possible to say with assurance that tragedy will not result if jealousy gets firm lodgment in the child's mind. If for this reason only, parents should regard with concern any repeated manifestations of jealousy, in no matter how mild and seemingly harmless a form. As a matter of fact, however, many parents are not in the least disturbed when their children give evidence of being jealous. Some parents seem to be positively pleased at signs of jealousy in their children, interpreting them as proofs of the ardour of the children's love. One thoughtless mother put it thus:

"My little Jack is so fond of me that he cannot bear to see me show attention to any other child. It is really amusing how displeased he gets. He will push the other child away, climb into my lap, and almost smother me with kisses. If I persist in paying attention to somebody else, he will pout in the cutest way until I take him in my arms again."

It may, to be sure, be difficult at times to refrain from smiling at the absurd behaviour of jealous children. Just the same, jealousy is never a smiling matter and is always something which parents should try to root out without delay. The jealous child, if uncorrected, is all too likely to grow into a jealous adult, with tendencies which bring misery to himself, and which, if it becomes a question of sex-jealousy, may bring death to others. The parent who fails to attack jealousy when it first shows itself need not be surprised at any distortion of character or vagary of conduct that appears in later life. Jealousy, indeed, may have strange and startling physical consequences. Here, for example, is a story from the experience of a veteran physician:

"I was once summoned to visit a lady who was represented as being very ill. On my arrival I was shown to the so-called sick-room, where three persons were present—an old lady, her daughter, and the daughter's husband. All of them seemed in good health. When I inquired which was my patient, there was silence for a moment. Then the daughter said:

"'I am the patient, and my complaint is jealousy. I am jealous of my husband, and if you do not give me something to relieve me I shall go out of my mind.'

"This, on the face of it, seemed preposterous. She was a tall, fair, beautiful woman of about thirty. The husband, on the contrary, was several years older, a short, swarthy, plain man. It seemed to me more reasonable to suppose that he might have cause to be jealous of his wife, rather than she of him. But she persisted in her statement, and declared that she had good reason to feel jealous.

"The husband insisted he had done nothing to justify her jealousy. She reasserted he had. In the midst of an outburst, distressing to listen to, she fell into a queer fit. With rhythmic regularity, she went through various spasmodic convulsions. At one moment she would stand at full length, her body arched forward. The next instant she was in a sitting position, with her legs drawn up, her hands clutching her throat, and a guttural noise coming from her mouth. Then she would wildly throw her arms and legs around; after which she would rise to go through the same performance.

"It was necessary to give her a drug to quiet her. I learned that she had been subject to these attacks ever since she began to feel jealous of her husband. Inquiring more closely, I found that, quite without reason, she was specifically jealous of him in connection with a certain woman in the small town where he carried on his business. Thereupon I advised him, for the sake of her health and his own peace of mind, to remove to another town. This having been done, her jealousy abated and the convulsive seizures ceased."

Of course, this mode of treatment—if treatment it should be called—gave no guarantee that the jealousy and the consequent convulsions would not recur under other circumstances. What the jealous wife really needed was psychical re-education to give her a saner philosophy of life, enabling her to get a better grip on her emotions, and, through this, to control better the workings of her nervous system. Here we touch on what is far and away the most important fact in the problem of jealousy—a fact unappreciated by too many parents, and, for that matter, likewise unappreciated by most writers on the pedagogy of childhood.

This fact is that jealousy, being always an evidence of uncontrollable emotionality, and itself serving still further to weaken emotional control, may, and often does, give rise to functional mental and nervous troubles. These may appear during childhood, or their appearance may be postponed until adult life, as in the instance cited above. In either event, their underlying cause is always the same: failure to train the individual during early life to react with calmness, courage, and moderation to the stresses of existence.

In the case of a person of naturally phlegmatic nervous constitution, lack of such training does not do so much harm, for the reason that excessive emotional reactions are unlikely to occur, no matter what the provocation. But when there is any marked degree of sensitiveness in the nervous organisation—as there usually is in our land: Americans being conspicuously of the so-called nervous temperament—the need for training in emotional control becomes imperative. In the case of persons who have inherited any tendency to nervous ailments, persons burdened with what is technically known as a neuropathic diathesis, absence of this training may be disastrous.

Parents, accordingly, will make no mistake in regarding any persistent manifestation of jealousy in their children as—like sulkiness—a danger-signal of real urgency and as indicating a special need for careful upbringing. Also, they should not be surprised if jealousy begins to show itself at an extremely early age. Some instances are on record of its appearance before the end of the first year. The naturalist Darwin noted its presence in his son at the age of fifteen and a half months. Arnold L. Gesell, one of the few scientists to make any extended research of jealousy, found that "infants will variously hold out their arms, fret, whine, or burst into violent crying, cover their face with their hands, or sulk, when their mothers caress or hold another baby." From the end of the second year jealousy is much in evidence, and is most variously motivated.

Commonest of all, perhaps, is the jealousy occasioned by the advent of a little brother or sister, who is looked upon as a rival for the parents' affections. Or jealousy may be felt against one of the parents, little boys being frequently jealous of their fathers, and little girls of their mothers. Seemingly, they are unable to tolerate the love their parents feel for each other and would monopolise the affection of the parent of whom they are fonder. Again, there may be jealousy, sometimes of a violent sort, with regard to material possessions. Greatly to the profit of toy-makers, innumerable children have broken their toys to pieces in jealous rage at another child having been allowed to play with them. So, too, there may be jealousy with regard to food. A child will often eat food of which he is not really desirous, rather than see another gain pleasure from it.

As the child grows older, other objects and situations cause in him the unpleasant reaction of jealousy. On this point—the shifting causes of jealousy, through later childhood into adolescence—I cannot do better than quote at some length the findings of Professor M. V. O'Shea, of the University of Wisconsin, as given in his "Social Development and Education," a book of great value to parents and teachers:

"The jealous attitude is manifested most strikingly in children from the fifth year on, in situations where competitors seek to exalt themselves in the eyes of those who have favours to distribute, or where the deeds and virtues of rivals are extolled by outsiders. Let K. begin to describe in the family circle some courageous or faithful deed he has performed, or painful experience he has endured, or duties he has discharged, and C., his natural rival, will at once seek to minimise the importance of the particular act for which praise is sought, so that K. may not be too highly thought of. Then C. will endeavour to attract attention to his own worth by describing more meritorious deeds which he has himself performed. He cannot easily submit to the attempts of his rival to gain the admiration of the company before whom he wishes to exhibit himself. But it is different in situations where K. and C. are united in their interests, in opposition to other groups. Then C. is glad to reinforce the testimony of K. regarding his valorous deeds; and the principle works in just the same way when C. is seeking for favour, and K. is the jealous witness or the faithful comrade.

"It must be impressed that jealousy is an attitude assumed only by individuals in those situations in which they are competing for the same favours. Two children may be intensely jealous in their own homes; but they may abandon this attitude absolutely when they go into the world and compete as a unit with other groups. Normally, the jealousies between members of a family tend to disappear in the measure that their interests broaden, and they form new connections in the world. That is to say, according as persons cease to be keen rivals, they tend either to become indifferent to the successes of one another, or they may even rejoice in the good fortune of each other, and lose no opportunity to celebrate one another's virtues and merits. This latter stage is not reached, however, until rivalry, and so conflict, wholly ceases, and the contestants come to appreciate that their interests are mutual, and each can help himself best by extolling the other. This is frequently seen in adult life, especially in political and professional partnerships....

"As a general principle, the smaller the group of individuals who are in competition with one another, and the narrower the range of their interests, the more intense will be the jealous attitudes developed. As the group increases in membership and their interests and activities become more varied, particular competitors normally come to occupy a less and less important place in any one individual's attention. It is as though the energy which in a restricted situation finds an outlet in one channel, perhaps, is discharged through various channels when the circle of persons and the range of interests to be reacted upon are enlarged. It is probable that most strictly social attitudes become less pronounced, though they are likely to become more habitual, according as the occasions which call them forth are multiplied.

"This principle has an interesting application to the child when he enters school. His new personal environment makes such demands upon his attention and energy, in order that he may take the first steps in adjustment thereto, that the jealous attitudes are not aroused for some time, though they are liable to appear as he begins to feel at home in the new group. The beginner is usually in the learning or adaptive attitude; he is never, at the outset, resentful towards individuals in the group who may secure greater attention than himself from the teacher or his associates. The novice in school seeks, above everything else, to win the favour of those who, for any reason, are prominent in the group. He does not normally oppose his personality to that of any one who stands well with the crowd, or who has the support of tradition in his particular expressions....

"As the child grows to feel at ease in adjustment to the situations presented in the school, he commences to assume attitudes of disapproval, as well as approval, of the expressions of his associates, and even of the teacher. In due course—often by the fourth year in school, possibly earlier—he begins to manifest some feeling of jealousy towards those of his group who attain greater prominence in the work of the school than he does himself. However, according to the observations of the present writer, this feeling is not a dominant one at any period in the elementary school, except in the case of particular children who are displeased at any distinction in recitations or in conduct attained by their classmates.

"In the fourth grade of a certain elementary school of a Western city there are three backward boys who have been in this grade for two years, though they are bright enough in the things of the street. They are in a more or less hostile attitude towards all that goes on in the schoolroom, probably because they cannot succeed in it themselves, and so they would like to escape from it or destroy it. Now, they make it unpleasant, so far as they are able, for all the boys in the grade who apply themselves to their tasks and get 'good marks.' On the playground these dullards 'pick on' the 'bright' boys; and in the school they ridicule them by 'snickering' at them, or 'making faces' at them, and so on, with the result that they deter some boys from doing their best in the schoolroom. These same three ill-adjusted boys will make fun of their mates who come to school 'dressed up in fine togs.' They are themselves attired in plain clothes suited to the rough experience of the street, and they resent the adoption of different styles by any of their associates. Further, they show jealous feeling towards boys who come from 'better' homes than their own, or from more 'aristocratic' parts of the city....

"It will not be necessary here to do more than to mention the chief incitement to jealousy after the beginning of the adolescent upheaval, and lasting well on into middle life. The testimony of autobiographers, as well as the observations of psychologists, indicates that rivalry for sex favours gives rise to most of the jealous attitudes of the adolescent up until full maturity is reached. Often, no doubt, it is the main cause of the jealousies of some people throughout their lives; but, normally, other and more general interests become stronger and more vital as maturity is approached. But, from the age of fifteen or sixteen on to twenty-five, or beyond, the sex needs and interests are supreme, and the individual is sensitive to sex relations above all others. No pain is so keen at this time as that which arises from slight or indifference from persons of the opposite sex, and no experience will stir an individual so deeply as that which threatens to deprive him of the exclusive possession of the affections of the one he loves."

Whatever the cause, I repeat, parents should never delay in combating repeated manifestations of jealousy, in order to make sure of preventing possible acts of extreme violence, subtle distortions of character that may persist through life, and neurotic maladies of gradual or rapid development. To bring home concretely to every parent who happens to read these lines the danger menacing his own jealous child in this last respect, I cannot do better than cite from real life a few instances of nervous trouble directly and demonstrably due to jealousy.

An eminent neurologist had for a patient a young girl whose illness took the form of frenzied, almost maniacal, outbreaks. It was necessary at times to control her forcibly, and the fear of her family was that she was on the highway to insanity, if she were not already insane. The neurologist noticed that she became most violent when her mother approached her bed. She would then cry out, strike at her mother, and wildly order her to leave the room. The mother was in despair at this behaviour, assuring the neurologist that she could not account for it, as she had always treated her daughter most affectionately—a statement which other relatives corroborated.

To get to the bottom of this mystifying case, the neurologist determined to make use of what is known as the method of dream-analysis. This method has, as a fundamental principle, the theory that most dreams, especially the dreams of childhood, represent the imaginary fulfilment of wishes which cannot be, or have not been, realised in the waking life. In the present instance, the application of dream-analysis proved most helpful. It showed that, asleep no less than when awake, the girl's mind was occupied with ideas unfavourable to her mother, and was dominated by a wish that her mother were dead. This was indicated by a number of dreams, in some of which she saw herself and her sisters dressed in mourning, while in others she was attending the funeral of women who resembled her mother.

Quite evidently a mental conflict was in progress, the girl sufficiently appreciating the sinfulness of the death—wish to resist its full emergence into consciousness, even during sleep. But its presence and persistence, as revealed by the dreams, made it clear to the physician that he was dealing, not with actual insanity, but with a case of hysteria motivated by jealousy of the mother. Further analysis disclosed an abnormal fondness for the father, in whose affections the little daughter wished to reign alone.

Sometimes the hysteria traceable to jealousy presents symptoms ingeniously calculated to compel sympathetic attention from the parent who otherwise would continue to divide his or her affections in a manner displeasing to the jealous child. Thus, a small boy became subject to attacks of severe bodily pain, which came on, usually, at night, and were relieved only when his mother took him to bed with her, sending his father to sleep in another room. In this case, and in similar cases that have been studied by medical specialists, it is not a question of conscious deceit. The pain or other hysterical symptom is wholly the result of the sentiment of jealousy having so worked on the mind of a neurotically predisposed child as to cause a subconscious fabrication of symptoms certain to gain loving care.

Likewise, some children, and particularly children of an inferior mentality or those handicapped by physical defects responsible for a seeming or real neglect of them by parents and playmates, will, under the influence of jealousy, become so disturbed nervously as to indulge in eccentricities of conduct, having for their object the compelling of the attention they feel they have been denied. For example, jealousy often is at the root of the pathological lying of neurotic children, who, on occasion, do not hesitate to bring outrageous charges against innocent persons. Their purpose is not to injure these persons; they tell their morbid lies simply because they wish to become objects of interested and sympathetic attention. For the same reason, other jealousy-dominated children sometimes concoct elaborate deceptions, notably in the way of what are called "poltergeist" performances.

From time to time newspapers report stories of haunted houses, in which small articles of furniture and bric-à-brac are flung about by mischievous ghosts—hence the name "poltergeists"—that remain invisible. When investigation is made, the "ghost" usually turns out to be a small boy or girl, who frequently is regarded as being merely a naughty child, and is punished accordingly. This is a mistake. It is not naughtiness, but hysteria. And, not infrequently, it is hysteria brought on by jealousy.[7]

President Hall, of Clark University, who has made a special study of children's lies, fittingly comments:

"Without knowing it, these hysterical girls feel disinherited and robbed of their birthright. Their bourgeoning woman's instinct to be the centre of interest and admiration bursts all bounds, and they speak and act out things which with others would be only secret reverie. Thus they can not only be appreciated but wondered at; can almost become priestesses, pythonesses, maenads, and set their mates, neighbours, or even great savants agog and agape, while they have their fling at life, reckless of consequences. Thus they can be of consequence, respected, observed, envied, perhaps even studied. So they defy their fate and wreak their little souls upon experience with abandon and have their supreme satisfaction for a day, impelled to do so by blind instinct which their intellect is too undeveloped to restrain. And all this because their actual life is so dull and empty."[8]

Nor does the mischief done by jealousy in the case of nervously inclined children stop here. It is particularly important for parents to know that there may be a postponement of its evil effects. That is, though the jealous child, while a child, may not show more than a general nervousness and may seemingly outgrow his jealousy without ill effect, it is entirely possible that in later life mental or nervous troubles may appear as a result of the subconscious retention of the jealous notions that have long since vanished from conscious remembrance. I might cite a number of instances strikingly illustrative of this, but will be content with giving only one—the case of a man about thirty years old, who did not dare go outdoors because he was obsessed by a fear that he would kill the first person he met in the street.

"My life," he told the physician whose aid he sought, "is one long torment. There are days when I have myself locked in my room, as I cannot venture on the street with the murderous longings that fill my mind. I spend much of my time planning alibis to escape the consequences of the murder I feel sure I shall commit. Is there any hope for me, short of imprisonment in an asylum for the dangerously insane?"

This man, as his answers to the specialist's questions made clear, was actually of a splendid character and highly cultured. His one peculiarity was this dangerous obsession. Psychological analysis to trace its origin was undertaken, and led back to his childhood. It had, as the setting giving it force and keeping it alive, a deep-seated jealousy of his father, experienced before the age of seven. More specifically, it originated in a murderous wish, entertained one day when father and son were walking together, to push his father from a mountain-top into an abyss. The child had at once recognised that this wish was wicked. He had violently repressed it, had tried to forget it, and had seemingly succeeded in doing so. But in his neurotic subconsciousness it had remained alive, to incubate and grow, until it finally blossomed into the murderous and painfully persistent obsession against people in general.

Surely, it is worth while to watch for and eradicate jealousy in childhood. Surely, too, it is worth while to develop emotional control in your children while they still are very young, and to avoid giving reason for jealousy by showing a real neglect in satisfying their natural craving for sympathy and love. On the other hand, it is equally important to avoid being over-attentive to them. This, as brought out in detail in the second chapter, is the great danger to be feared when there is only one child in the family, the exuberance of the parental love filling the child with exaggerated ideas of his own importance that are sure to be rudely jostled when he comes into contact with other children.

From these other children, as from his school teachers and casual visitors to his home, he will unconsciously demand the adulation shown by his parents. Failing to receive it, jealousy is all too apt to seize him, and, out of jealousy, nervous symptoms or character kinks are a probable result—symptoms and kinks which may, perhaps, never be entirely overcome.

What, then, is the moral of all this? What practical suggestions may be made that will help parents to cope with the problem of children's jealousy? For one thing, and most important, there must be no showing of favouritism, if you have more than one child. By your whole attitude towards your children you must make plain to them that each one ought to be, and is, equally dear to you. Of course, however, this does not mean that you should go to the foolish extreme of some parents, who carry the principle of equality so far as to give identical presents to their children. This does not serve as a corrective and preventive of jealousy; rather, it simply panders to it, and is, at bottom, a confession of helplessness on the parents' part.

The real need is to give your children a home environment of such a character that the instinct of human sympathy will be highly developed in them. Jealousy has its roots in selfishness, in an over-development of what may be called the ego-centric instinct. The jealous child is pre-eminently a child unduly occupied with thoughts of self. His personal desires and his personal interests are of paramount importance to him, just because he has not been taught that the one truly self-satisfying ideal of life is to find joy in bringing joy to others. To be sure, he cannot be taught this by direct instruction when he is very small. But indirectly, through the subtle force of suggestion, he can be taught it even then, if he is given a good parental example.

His parents themselves, not merely to prevent the budding of the sentiment of jealousy, but for the sake of the child's moral education in general, must set him an example of unselfishness. In their relations with each other, with their friends, with casual visitors to their home, they must maintain an altruistic, rather than an ego-centric, attitude. Showing true love for their child, they must—and this is especially necessary in the case of an only child—cause the child unconsciously to realise that he is not, and should not be, the sole object of their thoughts; that they have other interests, other duties in life. Unless he is constitutionally abnormal, a child brought up in such an atmosphere of general, self-forgetting kindliness is almost certain to acquire the same healthy philosophy of life that his parents have—a philosophy inimical to jealousy in every form.

As an aid to the same end, it is important to begin, at as early a time as possible, to train the child to occupy his mind actively with games and studies of educational significance. It is a fact which scarcely needs demonstration that the child in whom love of study and interest in subjects of study are developed at an early age will be a child unlikely to become unhealthily occupied with thoughts of himself. He will have too many and too strong external interests to have either time or desire for morbid self-communing.

In fine, you may set this down as certain: the more you inspire in your children external interests in play and work, doing this partly by direct teaching and partly by setting them an example of industrious activity, the less reason you will have to fear that they will fall victims to the handicap of jealousy or to the nervous maladies resultant from any form of excessive preoccupation with thoughts of self.

If, however, despite your best efforts, your child does develop jealous characteristics in marked degree, the safest and wisest thing you can do is to take him at once to a good specialist in the treatment of mental and nervous troubles. It may be that the jealousy is only the resultant of some unsuspected error of his upbringing, but it may also be symptomatic of some serious disorder requiring careful medical treatment.