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

The next day—­the first thing after breakfast—­he took a long walk in order to make up his mind what to do, and finally decided that he had engaged to stay one month and must keep to his promise.  It would not do to tell the invalid the truth—­the poor man would not believe it.  He was self-willed and self-centered, and his pains and discomforts, which came simply from old habits of illness, were as real to him as if they had been genuine.  Several physicians had emphasized his belief that he was ill.  One doctor—­so my friend was told—­who saw clearly the truth of the case, ventured to hint at it and was at once discharged.  My friend knew all these difficulties and, when he made up his mind that the only right thing for him to do was to stay, he found himself intensely interested in trying to approach his patient with so much delicacy that he could finally convince him of the truth; and I am happy to say that his efforts were to a great degree successful.  The patient was awakened to the fact that, if he tried, he could be a well man.  He never got so far as to see that he really was a well man who was allowing old habits to keep him ill; but he got enough of a new and healthy point of view to improve greatly and to feel a hearty sense of gratitude toward the man who had enlightened him.  The long habit of illness had dulled his brain too much for him to appreciate the whole truth about himself.

The only way that such an invalid’s brain can be enlightened is by going to work very gently and leading him to the light—­never by combating.  This young physician whom I mention was successful only through making friends with his patient and leading him gradually to appear to discover for himself the fact which all the time the physician was really telling him.  The only way to help others is to help them to help themselves, and this is especially the truth with nerves.