His own mind alone has power to give him a
momentary relief.
Herein lies one of the strongest problems of human nature. We say with
assurance that the mind rules the body, we feel that the spirit in some
way overshadows and includes the mind. Yet if this were really true the
spirit--that is, the will--should have power against bodily pain, but
not against moral suffering except with some help from a higher source.
But it is otherwise. If the will of ordinary human beings could
hypnotise the body against material sensation, the credit due to those
brave believers in all ages who have suffered cruel torments for their
faith would be singularly diminished. If the mind could dominate matter
by ordinary concentration of thought, a bad toothache should have no
effect upon the delicate imagination of the poet, and Napoleon would not
have lost the decisive battle of his life by a fit of indigestion, as
has been asserted.
On the other hand, there was never yet a man of genius, or even of great
talent, who was not aware that the most acute moral anguish can be
momentarily forgotten, as if it did not exist for the time, by
concentrating the mind upon its accustomed and favourite kind of work.
Johnson wrote _Rasselas_ to pay for the funeral of his yet unburied
mother, and Johnson was a man of heart if ever one lived; he could not
have written the book if he had had a headache.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166