“I have a newt, sir,” was the unexpected response. “A what?” “A newt, sir, inside me.” My uncle then recognised the case as being what he called “hysterical.” People in those days were more sympathetic and less contemptuous in their treatment of such unfortunates than most of us are now, so he said in a kindly, soothing manner-- “Poor thing! Well, well, we’ll soon set that right. Now don’t you distress yourself, my good woman. _I’ll_ soon settle the newt for you!” Thereupon he gave her a bottle of coloured water and some bread-pills, directing her to take them steadily for a few days and then return to show herself to him. He fully expected, he added, that she would then be quite restored to health. Away went the sufferer. At the time appointed she again visited the hospital. “Well,” said my uncle cheerfully, “how are you? Newt’s quite done for, I suppose?” “Oh no, sir,” she replied piteously. “A terrible thing’s happened.” “Indeed! Sorry for that. What is it?” “_The newt’s had young ones!_” My uncle gave that case up. I have no doubt he thenceforth regarded “hysteria” as incurable in confirmed cases. It is really surprising that so successful a practitioner should have been short-sighted enough to treat a mere symptom instead of the disease in which it originated. He appeared to think that his patient was suffering from hallucination, from a morbid idea, and that if he could remove the idea, she would be well. Had he realised that morbid ideas argue a morbid condition of the nerves, and that the mere removal of one hallucination after another would not suffice to repair actual nerve-waste, he would certainly have refrained from expending his own nerve-force in a vain endeavour. But I am glad to know that he at any rate refrained from dissipating still further the poor woman’s small capital of strength by frightening her and discouraging her. In this respect his method compares favourably with that now in vogue at many hospitals. Here are three instances of more modern usage.