Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, Fear and Rage

ported by cases in the experience of any physician with extensive practice. Indeed, as Prince ^ has stated, "the suppression of the sexual instinct by conflict is one of the most notorious experiences of this kind in everyday life. This instinct cannot be excited during an^attack of fear or anger, and even during moments of its excitation, if there is an invasion of another strong emotion the sexual instinct, at once is repressed. Under these con- ditions, as with other instincts, even habitual excitants can no longer initiate the instinctive process."

When the acme of excitement is approachiag it is probable that the sympathetic division is also called into activity ; indeed, the completion of the process — the contractions of the seminal vesicles and the prostate, and the subsidence of engorged tissues, all innervated by sympathetic filaments (see pp. 32, 33) — may be due to the overwhelm- ing of sacral by sympathetic nervous discharges. As soon as this stage is reached the original feeling likewise has been dissipated.

The other parts of the sacral division which supply the bladder and rectum are so nearly free from any emotional tone in their normal reflex functioning that it is unnecessary to consider them further with reference to emotional antagonisms. Mild affective states, such as worry and anxiety, can, to be sure, check the activity of the colon and thus cause constipation.^ But the augumented activity of these parts (contraction of the bladder and rectum) in very intense periods of emotional stress, when the sympathetic division is strongly innervated, presents a problem of some difficulty. Possibly in such conditions the orderliness of the central arrangements is upset, just as it is after tetanus toxin or strychnine poisoning, and opposed innervations no longer discharge reciprocally, but simultaneously, and then the stronger member of the pair prevails. Only on such a basis, at pres- ent, can I offer any explanation for the activity and the supremacy of the sacral innervation of the bladder and distal colon when the sympathetic innervation is aroused, as, for example, in great fright.

A summary in few words of the chief functions typically performed or supported by each division of the autonomic would-designate the cranial divi- sion as the upbuilder and restorer of the organic reserves, the sacral as the servant of raciaLgontin- uity,and the sympathetic as the^pregfirveuaf the in- dividual. Self-preservation is primary and essen- tial ; on that depends racial continuity, and for that all the resources of the organism are called forth. Analogously the sympathetic innervations, when they meet in organs innervated also by the cranial

and sacral divisions, almost without exception pre- dominate over their opponents. And analogously, also, the emotional states which are manifested in the sympathetic division and are characteristically much more intense than those manifested in the other divisions, readily assume ascendancy also in consciousness. It is obvious that extended action of the sym- pathetic division, abolishing those influences of the cranial division which are favorable to proper di- gestion and nutrition, might defeat its own ends. Interruption of the nutritional process for the sake of self-preservation through defense or attack can be only temporary; if the interruption were pro- longed, there might be serious danger to the vigor of the organism from failure to replenish the ex- hausted stores. The body does not have to depend on the return of a banished appetite, however, be- fore its need for restoration is attended to. There is a secondary and very insistent manner in which the requirement of food is expressed, and that is through the repeated demands of hunger.

Unlike many other rhythmically repeated sen- sations, hunger is not one that anybody becomes ac- customed to and neglects because of its monotony. During the period of his confioiement in the citadel of Magdeburg, the celebrated political adventurer Baron von Trenck * was allowed only a pound and a half of amraunition bread and a jug of water as Ms daily ration. "It is impossible for me to describe to my reader," lie wrote in Ms memoirs, "the excess of tortures that during eleven months I endured from ravenous hunger. I could easily have devoured six pounds of bread every day ; and every twenty-four hours, after having received and swallowed my small portion, I continued as hungry as before I began, yet I was obliged to wait another twenty-four hours for a new morsel. . . . My tortures prevented sleep, and looking into futurity, the cruelty of my fate seemed to me, if possible, to increase, for I imagined that the pro- longation of pangs like these was insupportable. God preserve every honest man from sufferings like mine! They were not to be endured by the most obdurate villain. Many have fasted three days, many have suffered want for a week or more, but certainly no one besides myself ever endured it in the same excess for eleven months ; some have supposed that to eat little might become habitual, but I have experienced the contrary. My hunger increased every day, and of all the trials of forti- tude my whole life has afforded, this eleven months was the most bitter."*

* In all probability the continued experience of hunger pangs reported by Baron von Trenck was due to the re- peated eating of amounts of food too small to satisfy the bodily demand. The reader will recall that persons who for some time take no food whatever report that the disagreeable feelings are less intense or disappear after the third or fourth day (see p. 238). Thus, although, the taking of food may be set in abeyance at times of great excitement, and the bodily reserves fully mobilized, that phase of the organism's self-protecting adjustment is limited, and then hunger asserts itself as an agency im- periously demanding restoration of the depleted stores.

The dominant emotions which we have been con- sidering as characteristically expressed in the sympathetic division of the autonomic system are fear and rage. These two emotions a're not unlike. As James ^ has indicated, "Fear is a reaction aroused by the same objects that arouse ferocity, . . . We both fear and wish to kill anything that may kill us ; and the question which of the two impulses we shall follow is usually decided by some one of those collateral circumstances of the par- ticular case, to be moved by which is the mark of superior mental natures." The. cornering of an animal when in the headlong flight of fear may suddenly turn the fear to fury and the flight to a fighting in which all the strength of desperation is displayed.

Furthermore, these dominant emotions are states into which many other commonly milder affective states may be suddenly transformed. As McDou- gall® has pointed out, all instinctive impulses when met with opposition or obstruction give place to, or are complicated by, the pugnacious or com- bative impulse directed against the source of the obstruction. A dog will bristle at any attempt to take away his food, males will fight furiously when provoked by interference with the satisfaction of the sexual impulse, a man will forget the conven- tions and turn hot for combat when there is impu- tation against his honor, and a mother all gentle with maternal devotion is stung to quick resent- ment and will make a fierce display of her com-' bative resources, if anyone intentionally injures her child. In these instances of thwarted or dis- turbed instinctive acts the emotional accompani- ments— such as the satisfaction of food and of sexual affection, the feeling of self -pride, and the tender love of a parent — are whirled suddenly into anger. And anger in one is likely to provoke anger or fear in the other who for the moment is the object of the strong feeling of antagonism. Anger is the emotion preeminently serviceable for the display of power, and fear is often its counterpart. J The visceral changes which accompany fear and rage are the result of discharges by way of sym- pathetic neurones. It will be recalled that these neurones are arranged for diffuse rather than for narrowly directed effects. So far as these two

quite different emotions are concerned, present physiological evidence indicates that differences in visceral accompaniments* are not noteworthy — for example, either fear or rage stops gastric se- cretion (see pp. 10, 11). There is, indeed, obvious reason why the visceral changes in fear and rage should not be different, but rather, why they should be alihe. As already pointed out, these emotions accompany organic preparations for action, and just because the conditions which evoke them are likely to result in flight or conflict (either one requiring perhaps the utmost struggle), the bodily needs in either response are precisely the same.

In discussing the functioning of the sympathetic division I pointed out that it was roused to ac- tivity not only in fear and rage, but also in pain. The machinery of this division likewise is oper- ated wholly or partially in emotions which are usually mild — such as joy and sorrow and disgust *Obvious vascular differences, as pallor or flushing of the face, are of little significance. With increase of blood pres- sure from vasoconstriction, pallor might result from action of the constrictors in the face, or flushing might result because constrictors elsewhere, as, for example, in the abdomen, raised the pressure so high that facial constrictors are overcome. Such, apparently, is the effect of adrenin already described (see p. 107). Or the flushing might occur from local vasodila- tion. That very different emotional states may have the same vascular accompaniments was noted by Darwin (The Expres- sion of Emotions in Man and Animals, New York, 1905), who mentioned the pallor of rage (p. 74) and also of terror (p. TT).

— when they become sufficiently intense. Thus, for instance, the normal course of digestion may be stopped or quite reversed in a variety of these emotional states. ^/ Darwin "^ reports the case of a young man who on hearing that a fortune had just been left him, became pale, then exhilarated, and after various expressions of joyous feeling vomited the half- digested contents of his stomach. Miiller ^ has described the case of a young woman whose lover had broken the engagement of marriage. She wept in bitter sorrow for several days, and during that time vomited whatever food she took. And Burton,^ in his Anatomy of Melancholy, gives the following instance of the effect of disgust : "A gentlewoman of the same city saw a fat hog cut up, when the entrails were opened, and a noisome savour offended her nose, she much misliked, and would not longer abide; a physician in presence told her, as that hog, so was she, full of filthy ex- crements, and aggravated the matter by some other loathsome instances, insomuch this nice gen- tlewoman apprehended it so deeply that she fell forthwith a vomiting, was so mightily distempered in mind and body, that with all his art and persua- sion, for some months after, he could not restore her to herself again, she could not forget or remove the object out of her sight."

row and intense disgust, the influence of the cran- ial division of the autonomic has been overcome, digestion has ceased, and the stagnant gastric contents by reflexes in striated muscles have been violently discharged. The extent to which under such circumstances other effects of sympathetic impulses may be manifested, has not, so far as I know, been ascertained. ^ From the evidence just given it appears that' any high degree of excitement in the central nerv- ous system, whether felt as anger, terror, pain, anxiety, joy, grief or deep disgust, is likely to break over the threshold of the sympathetic divi- sion and disturb the functions of all the organs which that division innervates. It may be that there is advantage in the readiness with which these widely different emotional conditions can ex- press themselves in this one division, for, as has been shown (see p. 276), occasions may arise when these milder emotions are suddenly transmuted into the naturally intense types (as fright and fury) which normally activate this division; and if the less intense can also influence it, the physio- logical aspect of the transmutation is already par- tially accomplished. V /> If various strong emotions can thus be expressed in the diffused activities of a single division of the autonomic — the division which accelerates the , heart, inhibits the movements of the stomach and

intestines, contrasts the blood vessels, erects the hairs, liberates sugar, and discharges adrenin — it would appear that the bodily conditions which have / been assumed, by some psychologists, to distin- guish emotions from one another must be sought for elsewhere than in the viscera. "We do not "feel sorry because we cry," as James contended, but we cry because when we are sorry or overjoyed or violently angry or full of tender affection — ^when any one of these diverse emotional states is present — there are nervous discharges by sympathetic channels to various viscera, iacluding the lachry- mal glands. In terror and rage and intense elation, for example, the responses in the viscera seem too uniform to offer a satisfactory means of distin- guishing states which, in man at least, are very different in subjective quality. For this reason I am inclined to urge that the visceral changes mere- ly contribute to an emotional complex more or less indefinite, but still pertinent, feelings of disturb- ance in organs of which we are not usually con- scious.

This view that the differential features of emo- tions are not to be traced to the viscera is in accord Iwith the experimental results of Sherrington,^" I who has demonstrated that emotional responses occur in dogs in which practically all the main vis- cera and the great bulk of skeletal muscle have been removed from subjection to and from influ- ence upon the brain, by severance of tbe vagus nerves and the spinal cord./^In these animals no alteration whatever was noticed in the occurrence, under appropriate circumstances, of characteristic expressions of voice and features, indicating anger, delight or fear. The argument that these expres- sions may have been previously established by af- ferent impulses from excited viscera was met by noting that a puppy only nine weeks old also con- tinued to exhibit the signs of emotional excitement after the brain was disconnected from all the body except the head and shoulders. Evidence from uni- formity of visceral response and evidence from ex- clusion of the viscera are harmonious, therefore, in minimizing visceral factors as the source of differ- ences ia emotional states.* ^

If these differences are dtie tb other than vis- ceral changes, why is it not always possible by vol- untary innervations to produce emotions ? We can laugh and cry and tremble. But forced laughter does not bring happiness, nor forced sobbing sor- row, and the trembling from cold rouses neither anger nor fear. The muscle positions and tensions are there, but the experiencing of such bodily * The paucity of afferent fibres in the autonomic system, and the probability of an extremely low degree of sensitive- ness in the viscera (:^or evidence, see Cannon: The Mechan- ical Factors of Digestion, London, 1911, p. 202), likewise sup- port this conclusion.

an emotion in us. Woluntary assumption of an at- titude seems to leave out the "feeling." It is prob- able, however, that no attitude which we can assume has all the elements in it which appear in the com- plete response to a stirring situation. But is not this because the natural response is a pattern reaction, like inborn reflexes of low order, such as sneez- ing, in which impulses flash through peculiarly co- operating neurone groups of the central system, suddenly, unexpectedly, and in a manner not ex- actly reproducible by volition, and thus they throw the skeletal muscles into peculiar attitudes and, if sufficiently intense, rush out in diffuse discharges that cause tremors and visceral perturbations? i The typical facial and bodily expressions, automat- 'ically assumed in different emotions, indicate the discharge of peculiar groupings of neurones in the several affective states. That these responses oc- cur instantly and spontaneously when the appro- priate "situation," actual or vividly imagined, is present, shows that they are ingrained in the nerv- ous organization. A- At least one such pattern, that of anger, persists after removal of the cerebral hemispheres — the decorticated dog, by growling and biting when handled, has the appearance of being enraged ;^^ the decerebrate cat, when vig- orously stimulated, retracts its lips and tongue, stares with dilated pupils, snarls and snaps its jaws,^^ On the other hand, stroking the hair,

whistling and gently calling to produce a pleased attitude, or yelling to produce fright, have not the slightest effect in evoking from the decorticated dog signs of joy and affection or of fear, nor does the animal manifest any sexual feeling. The ab- sence of bodily indications of these emotions is quite as significant as the presence of the signs of anger. For since expressions of anger can persist without the cerebral cortex, there is little reason why the complexes of other emotional expressions, if their "machinery" exists below the cortex, should not also be elicitable. That they are not elicitable Suggests that they require a more elaborately or- ganized grouping of neurones than does anger — possibly what the cortex, or the cortex in combi- nation with basal ganglia, would provide.

The contrast between the brevity of the "pseudo- affective reactions" in the decerebrate eat, though the viscera are still connected with the central nervous system, and the normal duration of emo- tional expression in the dog with the body sepa- rated from the head region, has been used by Sher- rington to weigh the importance of the visceral and other factors. And the evidence which I have given above, as well as that which he has offered, favors the view that the viscera are relatively unimpor- tant in an emotional complex, especially in con- tributing differential features.

^ Hertz : Constipation and Allied Intestinal Disorders, London, 1909, p. 81. The uniformity of visceral responses when al- most any feelings grow very intense, and under such conditions the identity of these responses with those characteristically aroused in the bel- ligerent emotion of anger or rage and its counter- part, fear, offer iateresting possibilities of trans- formation and substitution. This is especially true in the activities of human beings. And be- cause men have devised such terribly ingenious and destructive modes of expressing these feelings in war, an inquiry into the basis for possible substi- tution seems not out of place.

Support for the Militarist Estimate of the Strength of THE Fighting Emotions and Instincts The business of killing and of avoiding death has been one of the primary interests of living beings throughout their long history on the earth. It is in the highest degree natural that feelings of hostility often burn with fierce intensity, and then, with astonishing suddenness, that all the powers of the body are called into action — for the strength of the feeliags and the quickness of the response measure the chances of survival in a struggle where the issue may be life or death. These are the powerful emotions and the deeply ingrained instinctive reactions which invariably precede com- bat. They are the emotions and instincts that sometimes seize upon individuals in groups and spread like wildfire into larger and larger aggre- gations of men, until vast populations are shout- tag and clamoring for war. To whatever extent military plans are successful in devising a vast machine for attack or defense, the energies that make the machine go are found, in the last analysis, in human beings who, when the time for action comes, are animated by these surging elemental tendencies which assume control of their conduct and send them madly into conflict.

The strength of the fighting instinct in man has been one of the main arguments used by the mili- tarists in support of preparation for international strife. They point to the historical fact that even among highly civilized peoples scarcely a decade passes without a kindling of the martial emo- tions, which explode in actual warfare. Such fight- ing, they say, is inevitable — the manifestation of "biological law" — and, so long as human nature remains imclianged, decision by battle must be re- sorted to. They urge, furthermore, that in war and in the preparations for war important phys- ical qualities — sturdiness, hardihood, and strength for valorous deeds — are given peculiarly favorable opportunities for development, and that if these op- portunities are lacking, lusty youth will give place to weaklings and mollycoddles. In addition the militarists say that war benefits mankind by its moral effects. Without war nations become effete, their ideals become tarnished, the people sink into self-indulgence, their wills weaken and soften in luxury. "War, on the contrary, disciplines charac- ter, it sobers men, it teaches them to be brave and patient, it renews a true order of values, and its de- mand for the supreme sacrifice of life brings forth in thousands an eager response that is the crown- ing glory of the human spirit. As the inevitable expression of a deep-rooted instruct, therefore, and as a unique means of developing desirable physical and moral qualities, war is claimed by the mili- tarists to be a natural necessity.^

The militarist contention that the fighting in- stinct is firmly fixed in human nature receives strong confirmation in the results of our re- searches. Survival has been decided by the grim law of mortal conflict, and the mechanism for ren- dering the body more competent in conflict has been revealed in earlier chapters as extraordinarily per- feet and complete. Moreover, the physiological provisions for fierce struggle are found not only in the bodies of lower animals, that must hunt and kill in order to live, but also in human beings. Since this remarkable mechanism is present, and through countless generations has served the fun- damentally important purpose of giving momen- tous aid in the struggle for existence, the mili- tarists might properly argue that, as with other physiological processes, bodily harmony would be promoted by its exercise. Indeed, they might account for the periodic outburst of belligerent feelings by assuming that these natural aptitudes require occasional satisfaction.*

Growing Opposition to the Fighting Emotions and Instincts AS Displayed in Wak In spite of the teachings of history that wars have not grown fewer, and in spite of the militarist argument that war is a means of purging mankind of its sordid vices, and renewing instead the no- blest virtues, the conclusion that the resort to arms is unavoidable and desirable is nowadays being strongly contested. The militarists show only * Mr. Graham Wallas has made the interesting sugges- tion (The Great Society, New York, 1914, p. 66) that nerv- ous strain and restlessness due to "baulked disposition" may result from the absence of circumstances which would call the emotional responses into action. And he cites Aristotle's theory that pent passions may be released by represented tragedy and by music.

part of the picture. No large acquaintance with the character of warfare is necessary to prove that when elemental anger, hate and fear prevail, civilized conventions are abandoned and the most savage instincts determine conduct. Homes are looted and burned, women and children are abominably treated, and many innocents are murdered outright or starved to death. No bland argument for the preservation of the manly virtues can palliate such barbarities. Even when fighting men are held within the rules, the de- vices for killing and injuring are now made so perfect by devilish ingenuity that by the pulling of a trigger one man can in a few seconds mow down scores of his fellow-creatures and send them writhing to agony or death. War has become too horrible; it is conducted on too stupendous a scale of carnage and expenditure; it destroys too many of the treasured achievements of the race ; it interferes too greatly with consecrated efforts to benefit all mankind by discovery and invention ; it involves too much suffering among peoples not di- rectly concerned in the struggle ; it is too vastly at variance with the methods of fair dealing that have been established between man and man ; the human family has become too closely knit to allow some of its members to bring upon themselves and all the rest poverty and distress and a long heritage of bitter hatred and resolution to seek revenge.

All these reasons for hostility to war imply a thwarting of strong desires in men — desires for family happiness, devotion to beauty and to schol- arship, passion for social justice, hopes of lessen- ing poverty and disease. As was pointed out in the previous chapter, the feeling of hostility has no definite object to awaken it. It is roused when there is opposition to what we ardently wish to get. And because war brings conditions which frustrate many kinds of eagerly sought purposes, war has roused in men a hostility against itself. There is then a war against war, a willingness to fight against monstrous carnage and destruction, that grows in intensity with every war that is waged.

Although there is increasing opposition to the display of the fighting emotions and instincts in war, nevertheless the admirable moral and phys- ical qualities, claimed by the militarists to be the unique products of war, are too valuable to be lost. As McDougall ^ has indicated, when the life of ideas becomes richer, and the means we take to overcome obstructions to our efforts more refined and complex, the instinct to fight ceases to express itself in its crude natural manner, save when most intensely excited, and becomes rather a source of increased energy of action towards the end set by any other instinct ; the energy of its impulses adds

itself to and reenforces that of other impulses and so helps us to overcome our difficulties. In this lies its great value for civilized man. A man de- void of the pugnacious instinct would not only be incapable of anger, but would lack this great source of reserve energy which is called into play in most of us by any difficulty in our path. Thus the very efficiency of a war against war, as well as struggle against other evils that beset civil- ized society, rests on the preservation and use of aggressive feeling and the instinct to attack. From , this point of view the insistence by the militarists that we must accept human nature as we find it, and that the attempt to change it is foolish, seems a more justifiable attitude than that of' the paci- fists who belittle the fighting qualities and urge that changing them is a relatively simple process. We should not wish them changed. Even if in the war against war a means should be established of securing international justice, and if through co- operative action the decrees of justice were en- forced, so that the occasions which would arouse belligerent emotions and instincts were much re- duced, there would still remain the need of recog- nizing their elemental character and their possible ■ usefulness to society. What is needed is not a suppression of these capacities to feel and act, but their diversion into other channels where they may have satisfactory expression.

"We must make new energies and hardihoods continue the manliness to which the military mind so faithfully clings. Martial virtues must be the enduring cement; intrepidity, contempt of soft- ness, surrender of private interest, obedience to command, must still remain the rock upon which states are built." Thus wrote "William James ^ in proposing a "moral equivalent for war." This, he suggested, should consist of such required serv- ice in the hard and difficult occupations as would take the childishness and superciliousness out of our youth and give them soberer ideas and health- ier sympathies with their fellow-men. He con- ceived that by proper direction of its education a people should become as proud of the attainment by the nation of superiority in any ideal respect as it would be if the nation were victorious in war. "The martial type of character," he declared, "can be bred without war. Strenuous honor and disin- terestedness abound elsewhere. Priests and medi- cal men are in a fashion educated to it, and we should all feel some degree of it imperative if we were conscious of our work as an obligatory serv- ice to the state. We should be oivned, as soldiers are by the army, and our pride would rise ac- cordingly. We could be poor, then, without humiliation, as army officers now are. The only thing needed henceforth is to inflame the civic

Similar ideas have been expressed by others.* It has been pointed out that the great war of man- kind is that against pain, disease, poverty and sin ; that the real heroes are not those who squander hu- man strength and courage in fighting one another, but those who fight for man against these his eter- nal foes. War of man against man, in this view, becomes dissension ia the ranks, permitting the common enemies to strike their most telling blows.