CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BEQUEST 
 
 OF 
 
 STEWART HENRY BURNHAM 
 1943 
 
arViasSS*^""*" "'"™''*">' '■"'™'T 
 
 o,in,an^ ^^^4 031 223 583 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031223583 
 
"Day by day, in every way, 
 I am getting better and better." 
 
 MY PILGRIMAGE 
 TO COUE 
 
 BY 
 
 ELLA BOYCE KIRK 
 
 American Library Service 
 
 publishers 
 500 Fifth Avenue New York 
 
 f: OKIE'S I i 
 
 1 |,.UAi;.V 
 

 7f3V/C> 
 
 Copyright 1922 
 American Library Service 
 All translation rights reserved 
 
 J 
 
 -j)^^ 
 
 I I 
 
 
TO MY NIECE 
 
 ELLA RUTH BOYCE 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 
 
 THROUGH HER ENCOURAGEMENT AND CONSTANT 
 
 ATTENTION DURING MY VISIT TO NANCY, SHE 
 
 HAS MADE POSSIBLE THE WRITING OF THIS 
 
 TRUTH OF MY HEALING BY EMILE COU^ 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Emile Cou6 of Nancy 1 
 
 A Thumbnail Autobiography 7 
 
 Foreshadowings of My Infirmity 13 
 
 My Efforts to Retain Health 18 
 
 My Faith in Faith Cures 25 
 
 The Journey to Cou6 28 
 
 First Meeting with Cou6 31 
 
 My Treatment and Cure by Cou^ .... 37 
 
 Cou6 and the Peasant Clinics 41 
 
 Coup's Method of Autosuggestion 45 
 
 Cou^ and the Subconscious 51 
 
 A Stance with Cou^ 56 
 
 Cou^ and Divine Healing 62 
 
 Coup's Predecessors in Autosuggestion . . 70 
 
 Other Applications for Autosuggestion. . . 75 
 
 The Psychology of Autosuggestion .... 80 
 
 The Force of the Subconscious 89 
 
 Credo 92 
 
 tvl 
 
{Letter from Emile Coue to the Author) 
 
 4d>*^'//f-rM Jkt*-f < 't»«-y <Z< <;*«'*-/' <-««»*? «<-»<*»t. 
 
 ^.H'^^^ ^4** ;^( ^^ ***^ tit^'U^ ~ tf ^i^t*,**^-^— ^ 
 
(Translation) 
 
 Nancy, August 5th, 1922. 
 Dear Madam: 
 
 Rest assured that I am very happy 
 to have been able to contribute to 
 your very rapid cure. If you will al- 
 ways continue making your morning 
 and evening suggestion, not only will 
 you avoid the recurrence of your 
 cramps, but you will also avoid the 
 coming of those maladies that are 
 ever lurking for us. 
 
 Not only am I not opposed to 
 your speaking of my method to your 
 friends, but, on the contrary, it 
 would give me great pleasure, since 
 you would thus contribute to spread- 
 ing my ideas. 
 
 I beg of you, Madame, to accept 
 my most friendly greetings, 
 
 (Signed) Emile Cou£. 
 
"Our actions spring not from our Will, but 
 from our Imagination." 
 
 Emile Cou6 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Emile Coue of Nancy 
 
 Day by day, to the minds of more 
 and more people, there is coming a 
 familiarity with the names Coue and 
 Nancy. The two are becoming 
 linked in the popular ear as almost 
 interchangeable, and to the popular 
 mind they are synonymous with all 
 that is good and beneficent in human 
 life. To-day, in Nancy, France, 
 whether seeking relief from physical 
 disability, or whether interested in 
 studying the problems of the human 
 mind; whether attracted by the novel 
 and surprising, or whether genuinely 
 in sympathy with what is being done 
 by the little French apothecary, one 
 may find under the teaching of Mon- 
 sieur Coue power and knowledge 
 that will interest, surprise and heal. 
 
 [I] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 For some time, the American 
 newspapers and magazines have been 
 instrumental in familiarizing the pub- 
 lic with Monsieur Coue and his work 
 through articles and reviews of his 
 one small published work in English, 
 "Self-Mastery Through Conscious 
 Autosuggestion," as well as of nu- 
 merous books dealing with him and 
 his almost miraculous cures through 
 the power of the mind. So interest- 
 ing and convincing are the accounts 
 given, so sincere and unassuming, 
 that to one suffering from any ail- 
 ment of the flesh the idea of sailing 
 forth to see what there is to be seen 
 comes most naturally. When the 
 means are at hand no time is lost in 
 carrying out the idea, especially when 
 one is harassed by torturing physi- 
 cal pain that saps one of the very 
 desire to live. 
 
 Through the medium of the news- 
 papers the name Coue came to be as 
 familiar as that of a household clas- 
 sic. Whenever anyone complained 
 
 [2] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUg 
 
 of a physical ailment the first ques- 
 tion asked was surely: "Why, haven't 
 you heard of Coue ? Don't you know 
 of his wonderful method of healing 
 through autosuggestion? You must 
 try It. It win surely help you." 
 
 The remarkable part of It was 
 that whenever Coue's name was 
 mentioned or his treatment discussed 
 it was always with the utmost faith 
 and respect. The people who spoke 
 of It were sure of what they said, and 
 could substantiate their statements 
 with facts. There was never any of 
 that reluctance to bare details, never 
 any of that reticence to come to the 
 point, that accompanies charlatanism 
 in general. Everyone who ever 
 spoke of Coue and his work did It 
 with the utmost freedom, gave mi- 
 nute information and did not hesi- 
 tate to lend his personal assistance 
 in effecting a cure by revealing the 
 way autosuggestion was practiced. 
 There always existed that enthusiasm 
 that comes with success — and Coue's 
 
 [3] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 method, as I discovered later, in af- 
 fections that did not entail organic 
 malformations or broken bones, was 
 successful in ninety cases out of one 
 hundred. 
 
 There is always something in the 
 attitude of the person upon whom 
 a theory is tried that either reflects 
 favorably or detracts from its valid- 
 ity. In all cases where the Coue 
 method was tried, the attitude was 
 one of satisfaction and gratitude. 
 The individual radiated a desire to 
 spread the idea and inform the world 
 of the wonders that could be accom- 
 plished by a method so simple that 
 it might at first seem ridiculous. 
 There was ever something about him 
 akin to the fervor of the Christians 
 in ancient Rome who had seen the 
 light and were eager to open the eyes 
 of those who were still in the dark. 
 There was always in him a beautiful 
 faith that communicated itself to 
 others. 
 
 Surely all this could not be in- 
 
 [4] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 spired by anything that was not basi- 
 cally good and true ! Truth ever 
 shines by its own light. All else is 
 a futile spark that dazzles for a mo- 
 ment and then is extinguished. The 
 truth of Coue's marvelous method 
 has in it the very essence of sunlight 
 in its goodness and beneficence. If 
 only it were as widely diffused how 
 much happier the world would be ! 
 
 When I heard of Coue for the first 
 time it was in a dark period of trial 
 and stress, a period during which I 
 was suffering excruciating physical 
 pain and the no less torturing pain 
 of scepticism and hopelessness. I 
 had tried every available method of 
 cure to rid myself of my physical dis- 
 ability, but strive as I might, I could 
 accomplish nothing. I had reached 
 the stage when I was about to resign 
 myself to the worst, when the names 
 Coue and Nancy came to me like two 
 good geniuses leading me to health 
 and happiness. I was not long in 
 availing myself of the promises they 
 
 [5] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfl j 
 
 held out to me, and now, thanks to 
 them, I am able to publish my thank- 
 fulness and gratitude to the world in- 
 stead of dragging my life away in 
 embittered invalidism in the narrow 
 confines of a basket-chair. 
 
 This personal experience of my 
 trip to Monsieur Coue at Nancy is 
 written for the benefit, rather, moral 
 support, of all those who are suffer- 
 ing from the ills to which flesh is 
 heir, and who, like myself, have lost 
 faith, and possibly hope. It is also 
 an expression of gratitude for the 
 wonderful effects that resulted from 
 my trip to Nancy, and a humble 
 tribute to the marvelous work of 
 Monsieur Coue. I cite nothing that 
 I did not personally observe, or in 
 which I did not play a small part. 
 So, my purpose stated, I shall launch 
 my labor of love, begging of the 
 reader the same tolerance St. Augus- 
 tine asked for, — that he judge the 
 spirit and not the word. . . . 
 
 [6] 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A Thumbnail Autobiography 
 
 There were two normal and ines- 
 capable ailments to which I had long 
 been a conscientious autosuggestion- 
 ist before going to Coue ; namely, my 
 age and my weight. Like most 
 women, I knew how to ignore both 
 of them so long as I felt young 
 enough to care about life and activity 
 and was not too stout to climb the 
 stairs to the entrance of my hotel 
 with average ease. If I could still 
 enter a taxicab comfortably or oc- 
 cupy the allotted space in a theatre, 
 I was content to press on from day 
 to day with undaunted spirits. 
 
 "Cast your burdens on the Lord" 
 had always been my guiding precept 
 when dealing with problems that 
 touched the sensibilities. I was con- 
 tent to allow my worries to dissipate 
 in due time with the help of moral 
 
 [7] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 fortitude. However, with respect to 
 merely fleshly troubles of wrinkles 
 and excess tissue, I never cared to 
 take my case beyond local jurisdic- 
 tion. It seemed preferable to pay 
 the masseuse and the hopefully 
 named "Beauty Specialist" to set to 
 rights the attrition of time and age. 
 It was wiser to let the tailor wage the 
 slowly losing battle between "slen- 
 derizing lines" and the broadening 
 influences of nature if he chose. I 
 was prepared to pay my price and 
 take my discounts. It is a sane phi- 
 losophy to keep the mind off the ex- 
 ternal signs of accumulative years 
 and to occupy it instead with broad 
 human interests. 
 
 Always in my life I have observed 
 an attitude of optimism and self- 
 reliance. Seldom have I publicly or 
 among my friends sought sympathy 
 or support for any trial that I have 
 ever undergone, — and they have not 
 been few. However, so long as I 
 was able to avoid foolish fretting in 
 [8] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 matters of health, so long as I could 
 hold my own with moderate success 
 with age and infirmity, I was happy 
 in the fact of my continued mental 
 activity. Perhaps a little like an 
 old book, — the binding scuffed and 
 faded, the pages yellow, the print a 
 little antique, — I felt, nevertheless, 
 that my contents were imperishable 
 and unchanged. 
 
 Indeed, were I to look disinterest- 
 edly upon my case, my years were 
 in some ways an advantage. I could 
 go wherever I chose, alone or with 
 any companion, without fear and 
 without scandal. My mature dignity 
 was a sufficient guarantee of disinter- 
 estedness. I could be as curious as 
 I chose about any person or event 
 without being committed or compro- 
 mised. I could even evince interest 
 for Freud and psychoanalysis with- 
 out seeming to exhibit a complex. 
 
 Truly, it is an ill wind that bloweth 
 nobody any good. Even my weight, 
 judging everything impersonally, had 
 
 [9] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 its compensations. TrafEc policemen, 
 taxi drivers, bell boys and shop- 
 keepers paid me the deference that 
 plain people always render to mere 
 size. I cannot say that I did not 
 have pangs of suffering from my con- 
 dition, but the real sorrows and em- 
 barrassments of overweight I kept 
 closely concealed in my own heart. 
 The apparent burdens could be con- 
 veniently utilized to avoid anything 
 I desired to shirk. 
 
 Withal, I led an active and satis- 
 fying life, full of little tasks and 
 duties. My days and evenings were 
 filled to the last minute with calls and 
 shopping, lectures, theatres and con- 
 certs. I combined harmoniously the 
 useful and the pleasant, thus arriving 
 at a satisfying balance. No middle- 
 aged buyer, of the proverbial kind, 
 lived any more actively while in New 
 York than I did habitually in my 
 own way. My hotel rooms were a 
 rendezvous for all my out-of-town 
 
 [10] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUlS 
 
 friends. What is more, I kept con- 
 tinually the pace they were able to 
 strike only on occasion. 
 
 Sometimes, it is true, I had to rush 
 into new activities to forget the fact 
 that I was bored with the life I was 
 leading, as compared to my activities 
 in my earlier youth. Often I felt 
 keenly that my movements lacked 
 point and continuity. When I con- 
 trasted my life as a mere consumer 
 long since oiit of touch with the labor 
 of producing — when I thought of 
 myself in retrospect, first, as the first 
 woman school superintendent in 
 America, then, as an active social 
 factor in the life of my home city, — 
 when I allowed my mind to look back 
 upon what had been, I did indeed 
 feel idle and unhappy. If you can 
 fancy yourself remaining at a public 
 ball after your own party and friends 
 have gone home, you will appreciate 
 the bitterness of loneliness and bore- 
 dom that came to me. Time may 
 soften the grief of impotence, but it 
 
 [II] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 also lengthens the shadows of the 
 past. 
 
 As time goes on, one meets, in- 
 deed, travelling companions on the 
 way, but they, like oneself, are busy 
 with time-killing occupations while 
 loitering on the wayside between the 
 homes they have left and the Ulti- 
 mate Destination. 
 
 In moments of relaxation such 
 considerations came to me strongly. 
 Often while I was preoccupied with 
 my petty infirmities I would ask my- 
 self, "Why attempt to prolong and 
 beguile an interlude between life and 
 death?" Had I not said and meant 
 it that that person was fortunate 
 whose life came suddenly to an end 
 at fifty? Oh, how I should have 
 welcomed at those moments a sum- 
 mons to go elsewhere! With what 
 pleasurable excitement and impor- 
 tance I would have greeted the doc- 
 tor's announcement that I had just 
 a month in which to wind up my 
 affairs I 
 
 [12] 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 FORESHADOWINGS OF My InFIRMITY 
 
 During that period I seldom really 
 saw a doctor, but I never greeted one 
 without the special interest that one 
 takes in a person with whom one is 
 shortly to have important business. 
 In spite of the fact that to all ap- 
 pearances I was cheerful and active 
 most of the time, I possessed a kind 
 of dreary, fussy activity, a hectic In- 
 tensity that offered me little solace. 
 A genuine thrill, I knew, awaited me, 
 — the doctor's dramatic announce- 
 ment some day that I must prepare 
 myself for a long journey. Probably 
 it would be heralded by toxic- 
 uraemia. Probably the heart would 
 give way; for how could it be as 
 healthy as it seemed? 
 
 But alas, even for the high ambi- 
 tions of age! The doctor's surprise 
 for me was genuine, but it was not 
 
 [13] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 heroic and thrilling. It was merely 
 tragic. He told me that I was 
 shortly going to be unable to walk! 
 At that moment I felt all the dis- 
 illusion of Hedda Gabler when she 
 hears that the man whom she ex- 
 pected to do things beautifully, with 
 vine-leaves in his hair, has shot him- 
 self vulgarly in the bowels ! 
 
 From what the doctor said, a brief 
 period of gradually restricted activ- 
 ity lay before me, and then an inde- 
 terminate sentence of invalidism, 
 while, chained to a bed, or helped 
 about from chair to chair, I patiently 
 waited until my pain was appeased! 
 
 What a ghastly discounting of the 
 hope of death! What a disgusting 
 termination of an active life — to re- 
 main a useless burden, an invalid, 
 when one had expected to leave dra- 
 matically, — a useful and an interest- 
 ing individual to the very last minute ! 
 
 However, everything considered, 
 the doctor's verdict should not have 
 surprised me. For approximately 
 
 [14] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 fifteen years I had suffered occasion- 
 ally with both limbs from a malady 
 that seemed to be due to gradual 
 stiffening of the muscles. It was 
 sometimes attended by cramps above 
 the knees. Any difficulty in walking 
 that I experienced in this way, how- 
 ever, was always attributed not only 
 by my doctor, but even by myself, to 
 the fact that I was so heavy. The 
 doctor invariably prescribed rest and 
 diet, though frankly, it seemed to me 
 that it was the more judicious thing 
 to do, to set about making all possible 
 sacrifices to reduce my weight. 
 
 In spite of my resolutions, visiting 
 friends and hotel menu cards con- 
 spired to make me defer all resolve 
 to reduce. I have lived for years 
 on a prescription of milk and vichy, 
 and an actual diet of broiled squab 
 sous cloche. Many, a morning I 
 have gone downstairs to a breakfast 
 that began with a cup of hot water 
 and ended with sausage and wheat 
 cakes. 
 
 [IS] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 One day, most unexpectedly, the 
 trouble I had experienced with my 
 knees showed new developments that 
 seemed grave enough to demand seri- 
 ous attention. Pains so intense as to 
 cause me to lose all consciousness, 
 and swellings so gross as to interfere 
 with my walking challenged notice. 
 The doctors came and diagnosed. 
 One said dropsy; another, rheuma- 
 tism. All decreed that probably, at 
 my time of life, it was incurable. 
 With rest and diet I could perhaps 
 bring about reduction of the swelling, 
 but it was nevertheless probably fu- 
 tile to expect that I should again 
 walk with the old freedom. 
 
 Just what the doctors promised 
 and what they failed to maintain, just 
 what the extent of my suffering was 
 from that time on for the last two 
 years it is not interesting or impor- 
 tant to detail. The significance of 
 the trouble for me, indeed, was not 
 physical, but spiritual. I was con- 
 cerned, not with what it meant in 
 [i6] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUg 
 
 terms of bodily suffering, but in 
 terms of isolation. It seemed only a 
 matter of months till I would be cut 
 off entirely not only from my pleas- 
 urable employments, but even from 
 my friends; it looked like a question 
 of long years until the bleakness of 
 inactivity would be terminated. 
 
 From this juncture my whole tenor 
 of life suddenly developed a new in- 
 terest and value. Was it possible 
 that I had ever been bored? Could 
 I actually have desired to die while I 
 still had the opera, the first nights, 
 and the round of pleasures that was 
 always planned for me whenever I 
 revisited my home city? Was it 
 really I who had pretended to feel 
 that such frequent visits from out- 
 of-town friends were an imposition 
 and an affliction? It was with a pang 
 that I saw myself cut off from these 
 very friends, made dearer to me by 
 the impending possibility of losing 
 them. 
 
 [17] 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 My Efforts to Retain Health 
 
 Nevertheless, I took the doctors' 
 advice and arranged for diet and re- 
 laxation. There was only one way 
 of getting a complete change, namely, 
 by withdrawing from the hectic life 
 of New York, away from hotels, 
 away from amusements, away from 
 the friends I loved so well and who 
 had come to mean so very much to 
 me. 
 
 As soon as I came to my decision, 
 I packed up and departed for the 
 quiet, rural section of Maine where 
 I was born, and where I had not lived 
 for lo, these many years. 
 
 Needless to say, my country rela- 
 tives were astonished to see me, ac- 
 customed as they were to associating 
 me with bright lights and intense liv- 
 ing. Therefore it was with a certain 
 degree of diffidence that they re- 
 [i8] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 ceived the announcement of my inten- 
 tion to live a rigorously simple life 
 with them for six months, if need be. 
 As it was, I remained with them from 
 May until December, making every 
 effort to regain by abstemiousness 
 and quiet the privilege of again play- 
 ing a part in the activities of New 
 York. 
 
 The effort was not wholly without 
 reward. It brought me again into 
 contact with girlhood friends and 
 long-neglected memories. I lived 
 again the quiet, peaceful hours of my 
 youth with all their soothing associa- 
 tions. It renewed my acquaintance 
 with the peaceful, deep-thinking, pa- 
 tient people of the country, whose 
 greatest concern was nature and the 
 bounties of health and vigor that she 
 held forth to them. On the whole, 
 it made a little less terrible the pros- 
 pect of ending my days where I had 
 begun them. I was resigned to being 
 an invalid waiting out my term in the 
 silence of the Maine countryside. 
 
 [19] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 So much for the spiritual support. 
 The experiment was otherwise a fail- 
 ure, for physically I grew not better, 
 but worse. My resignation slowly 
 waned. Again the desire to live, to 
 be healthy, to have my share of con- 
 structive work, took possession of 
 me. I decided at last, while there 
 was still some breath left In me, still 
 some power of locomotion, to devote 
 all my forces to a more active at- 
 tempt to recover the use of my limbs. 
 
 Following this decision, I returned 
 to New York to put myself into the 
 hands of physicians, masseurs, chiro- 
 practors, osteopaths, — of any one or 
 anything that held out the least hope 
 of a cure. I clutched desperately at 
 every straw. Now, with my renewed 
 interest to get well, life no longer 
 seemed a bore. The activities that 
 once threatened to pall on me now 
 seemed passionately worth while. 
 
 Does this account, dear reader, 
 lose interest for you? Do you urge 
 me to get on to the end of my story ? 
 
 [20] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 Perhaps you echo the aspiration of 
 the deacon who replied to the query 
 about his invalid wife, "Oh, yes, she's 
 still sick. I wish she'd get well or do 
 something!" 
 
 It is ever so. The healthy, active 
 person can never appreciate the 
 agony of the search for health of one 
 who fears permanent disability, or 
 contemplates a continued life of in- 
 validism. 
 
 Before relating how I was cured 
 of my infirmity, I believe it would be 
 worth while to impress upon the 
 reader that the physical pain itself 
 played the least part in my affliction. 
 It was the loneliness that was unbear- 
 able. It was the fear of being useless 
 that chilled the heart. It was the 
 sense of age and infirmity, creeping 
 like a glacier over a sunny land, that 
 desolated and defrauded my life of 
 its capacity for joy. It would be 
 poor praise indeed of any cure if it 
 represented a mere surcease of pain, 
 
 [21] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 when despair itself had been the real 
 malady. 
 
 I wish with all my heart that I 
 could convey for the benefit of those 
 afflicted with invalidism the lesson I 
 learned through my trouble. Often 
 the cross that an afflicted person 
 bears is the attitude of his friends 
 and relatives, who believe that the 
 invalid suffers only from physical ail- 
 ments, and that the essential thing to 
 be done is to relieve him of pain and 
 make him as comfortable as neces- 
 sary. Often, to make this possible, 
 the invalid is isolated from bright 
 company, deprived of useful occu- 
 pation, and is thus made utterly 
 wretched at the thought that he is a 
 burden upon those who wait on him 
 and outdo themselves conspicuously 
 in their kindnesses. True, it is very 
 kind to show consideration for a per- 
 son's physical well-being. But illness 
 is most often mental. Indeed, it 
 ought to be borne in mind by those 
 who are well that no invalidism is 
 
 [23] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 unbearable if it is cheered by employ- 
 ment, interesting company, and a 
 chance to render service. The chief 
 duty of those who nurse the sick is to 
 restore their mental health. 
 
 This lesson was brought home to 
 me forcefully during the two years I 
 fought to regain my world. My 
 friends did their utmost to make me 
 absolutely comfortable. I had a spe- 
 cial chair built for me. I reclined 
 upon cushions. I slept upon hot- 
 water bags. Every contrivance for 
 the ease of tortured flesh was pro- 
 cured for me. I ate my meals in my 
 room. I lived upon the well-inten- 
 tioned wishes of attendants. Yet I 
 had but one object In life, — to fight 
 off loneliness. 
 
 Looking back upon my decision to 
 go to M. Coue, it seems to me as if 
 it came as a last resort, when despair 
 had all but set in. It Is possible that 
 I should have nourished some further 
 hope of the remedies that were being 
 tried before becoming discouraged 
 
 [23] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 altogether, but now it seems as if 
 the thought of Coue came like an 
 eleventh-hour reprieve. 
 
 At any rate, when I sent for my 
 niece, saying: "Come with me; I'm 
 going to Nancy to be treated by M. 
 Coue," she did not hesitate or debate 
 the merits of the idea for a moment. 
 She knew that everything I could 
 think of or do had been tried. The 
 fact alone that I had hope enough in 
 the enterprise to consent to face the 
 hardships of a trip to France in my 
 condition was in itself a justification 
 for the journey. 
 
 Accordingly, we set sail on the 8th 
 of July. Established in a special 
 deck chair that had been built ex- 
 pressly to accommodate my poor, 
 tortured body, I vowed not to leave 
 it unless I was washed out to sea by 
 a tidal wave. 
 
 [24] 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 My Faith in Faith Cures 
 
 The existing appreciation on my 
 part that some portion of my trouble 
 was mental is clear from the fact that 
 among other remedies I had already 
 tried several varieties of religious 
 faith cures. At this moment I have 
 nothing to urge against them. In the 
 light of my subsequent lessons from 
 M. Coue, I have more respect for 
 them now than before I went to him, 
 for he convinced me that they are of 
 value for many people. His expla- 
 nation that they are sometimes effi- 
 cacious because they often cause the 
 patient to give himself curative auto- 
 suggestions justifies them for those 
 who can be convinced by their 
 affirmations. However, they failed 
 to help me, because I had no faith 
 in them. Indeed, they antagonized 
 me. When a new-thought lady, 
 
 [25] 
 
MY PIIvGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 charging me five or ten dollars a 
 call, would sit in my room uncon- 
 sciously attending to minor details of 
 her personal comfort and tell me that 
 I had no pain, I was irritated, not 
 cured. When she offered to give me 
 absent treatments at the same rate, 
 I found myself making mental calcu- 
 lations as to how many patients could 
 be absent-treated at one and the same 
 time, wondering whether a radio- 
 broadcasting station, installed by 
 such a healer, would not increase the 
 profits of the business. I caught my- 
 self smiling Inwardly at her naivete 
 and thought of the simple-minded 
 Eastern dervish who devised an eco- 
 nomical way of sending numerous 
 prayers to God daily through the 
 medium of a little hand-mill in which 
 he placed sacred scrolls rolled in the 
 form of pills. Instead of praying in 
 good old dervish fashion he merely 
 turned the crank, and the work was 
 done. 
 
 [26] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 No, her method did not convince 
 me. I had taught school in my 
 younger days, with children as my 
 patients, so to speak. I had not 
 found it possible ever to impress 
 them with anything by means of ab- 
 sent treatments. My experience, 
 therefore, had given me a bias in 
 favour of the personal touch. 
 
 The result was that though I 
 clutched at M. Coue's treatment 
 through autosuggestion as a last re- 
 sort, I was a little diffident, in the 
 bottom of my heart, as to what he 
 really could do for me. I had seen 
 enough of the faith-cure methods in 
 America to make me somewhat skep- 
 tical. 
 
 It was in this state of mind that I 
 went to France. 
 
 [271 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 The Journey to Coue 
 
 Across three thousand miles of 
 ocean, and across almost the whole 
 of France, to the city of Nancy we 
 went, my niece and I, with the very 
 definitely compelling idea that there 
 I would find healing, possibly, but 
 certainly one of the most interesting 
 personalities In the world, judging 
 from all I had read and heard of M. 
 Coue. 
 
 The ride from Paris to Nancy is 
 along the Marne valley, full of asso- 
 ciations of the World War. The 
 splendid vitality of the French people 
 is very much in evidence in the tre- 
 mendous amount of rebuilding that 
 has already been accomplished in the 
 ruined villages. Indeed, the wonder 
 and admiration that we could not 
 help but feel for the French nation, 
 [28] 
 
MY PII.GRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 almost caused us to forget the main 
 scope of our visit to Nancy. 
 
 At last we reached the city. The 
 first thing that interested us was its 
 beautiful iron work. The public 
 squares, the buildings and the ancient 
 gates exerted a fascination over us, 
 for they were so different from what 
 we were accustomed to seeing. It 
 was interesting to find a statue to 
 Stanislaus, the deposed king of Po- 
 land, and to learn that as the father- 
 in-law of Louis XV of France he had 
 been given the Duchy of Lorraine, 
 of which Nancy was the principal 
 city, when his own country was lost 
 to him. It was gratifying to see how 
 he had beautified that city. What 
 caused us to marvel most of all was 
 to find, glorified as later heroes of 
 the town, the architect Here and the 
 ironsmith Lamour, whose buildings, 
 gates and balconies are the greatest 
 beauties of the city to-day. 
 
 Our interest, however, was in an 
 individual, and not in civic beauty. 
 
 [29] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 We wished to see Coue. Few ques- 
 tions were necessjiry to locate him. 
 His name seemed _ to be known by 
 everyone in Nancy. 
 
 [30] 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 First Meeting With Coue 
 
 Bright and early, the following 
 day, we set out, along the Rue Jeanne 
 D'Arc to the home of M. Coue. 
 There we found an attractive house 
 in the French style surrounded by a 
 garde.n with a locked gate. At our 
 ring the maid appeared and told us 
 we had come too early. It was then 
 about 8.30. Just then Madame Coue 
 happened to pass by, coming from 
 her beautiful and much-loved garden. 
 When she heard that we were the 
 Americans who had come all the way 
 from New York just to consult M. 
 Coue she seemed to agree with us 
 that we were worthy some special 
 attention. We were accordingly 
 ushered into M. Coue's study. Not 
 until much later did we learn how 
 favoured we had been, for it was not 
 the practice of M. Coue to see people 
 
 [31] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 privately. He gives so much of his 
 time to the public clinics that the 
 little which remains to him must be 
 preserved for writing and the de- 
 mands of his individual life. 
 
 It had seemed to us surely an 
 unprecedented thing that anyone 
 should, like us, have taken so long 
 a trip for the purpose of seeing M. 
 Coue. We were to learn later that 
 not only were we not the first Amer- 
 icans whose interest in M. Coue and 
 his work had led them to Nancy, but 
 that his fame had even reached South 
 Africa, so that at that very time pa- 
 tients from that distant place were 
 there to consult him. 
 
 However, our concern for the mo- 
 ment was with the private interview, 
 which presently we had with M. 
 Coue. It was naturally of great in- 
 terest to us to gauge the personality 
 of a man so famous that his name 
 was known the world over. 
 
 We had not been long in his study 
 when M. Coue entered. How shall I 
 [32] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 depict him in words? Sixty-seven 
 years young, short in stature, with a 
 remarkably keen eye and a twinkling 
 smile, he appears at first glance to 
 be bent with age, but one flash of his 
 merry smile instantly sets that im- 
 pression to rest. One feels, to begin 
 with, how unassuming he is; next, 
 how sincere ; and lastly, how assured. 
 "You will be better," seems to be his 
 most characteristic remark. 
 
 When he asked me what ailed me, 
 I outlined to him my Via Crucis of 
 ill-health. I told him how I had 
 taken treatments with osteopaths, 
 allopaths, chiropractors, even men- 
 tioning the ill-fated faith cures. I 
 related of how all promised relief, 
 but failed to give any. I remember 
 telling him of how one had advised 
 me, when I suffered most keenly with 
 my limbs, to walk with my mind, 
 and not with my legs, for he as well 
 as many others maintained that I had 
 no trouble with them at all. 
 
 M. Coue differed from them in 
 
 [33] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUlfi 
 
 that he recognized that I really did 
 have a physical basis for the pain in 
 my limbs, but he was of the opinion 
 that most of it was in my belief. 
 Thereupon I said to him : 
 
 "Why should this exist in my legs 
 if it is simply a belief in my mind? 
 Why should not my arms be also af- 
 fected?" 
 
 He replied: 
 
 "Undoubtedly you had a weakness 
 of the muscles of the legs and your 
 belief strengthened it until it became 
 an actual fact to you, as a source of 
 great pain." 
 
 When I asked him whether he 
 could cure me he said : 
 
 "I shall cure you, Mrs. Kirk. I 
 do not think you will have a recur- 
 rence of the cramps." 
 
 When I asked him, later in the 
 interview, about his method of cure, 
 he said: 
 
 "Be sure, Mrs. Kirk, that I do not 
 perform these cures that are attrib- 
 uted to me. Patients cure themselves 
 
 t34] 
 
MY PII.GRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 every time. I just fertilize the men- 
 tal soil, then make a few suggestions. 
 If, then, the patient acts on these he / 
 will get well, if it Is within the limits 
 of possibility. There are many cases 
 that come to me that cannot be cured. 
 Broken tissues, loss of limbs, some 
 cases of deafness, some cases of eye 
 diseases are Incurable." 
 
 He explained later that if the dis- 
 ease of the eye is a muscular one, he 
 can cure it, but if there are liquid 
 complications, he cannot. 
 
 At this moment, while we were 
 discussing what could and what could 
 not be cured, a lady entered with a 
 large suitcase. The maid was ex- 
 postulating with her and trying as 
 best she could to prevent her from 
 going further. 
 
 "M. Coue," cried the woman, 
 pleading, "your portrait that I am 
 painting Is nearly finished." 
 
 M. Coue laughed boyishly, in the 
 twinkling way peculiar to him, and 
 said that the lady surely must be ad- 
 
 [35] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 mitted if she was painting his por- 
 trait. 
 
 We then withdrew, while he called 
 after us: 
 
 "Be sure to sit in the garden until 
 the patients come." 
 
 So ended my first interview with 
 M. Coue. 
 
 [36] 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 My Treatment and Cure by 
 
 COUE 
 
 My personal experience in being 
 treated by Monsieur Coue is so sim- / 
 pie as to be unbelievable; neverthe- 
 less, it has resulted in so definite a 
 change, has proven so decided a cure 
 as to seem a miracle — a term that 
 M. Coue greatly objects to. My 
 treatment was as follows : He asked 
 me at first to hold out my arms with 
 my hands firmly clasped together and 
 to repeat many times "I cannot open 
 my hands." At first I felt sure that 
 I could unclasp them if I tried, show- 
 ing that the belief "I cannot" was 
 not yet fully established in my uncon- 
 scious mind. We repeated this to- 
 gether many times, yet it was not 
 wholly satisfactory because I really 
 did not have the belief. However, 
 he kindly said to me, "You do very 
 
 [37] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 well for the first time and I feel sure 
 if you do exactly as I ask you to, that 
 you will be cured." 
 
 Later in the morning, when I was 
 with other patients, he asked me 
 to try this again. This time I had 
 a much more confident feeling that I 
 was getting the idea of the belief "I 
 cannot" that he desired I should 
 have, and again he made the sugges- 
 tion, "You will soon be well. All 
 pain will cease." After the third 
 trial I was conscious that the 
 thoughts, "I cannot" and "I can," 
 had complete mastery of my hands. 
 Then my kind teacher said, "Do now 
 as I tell you and you will soon be 
 well; there will be no recurrence of 
 the pain, no contraction of the mus- 
 cles, no lack of nerve control." 
 
 Even then I did not believe it pos- 
 sible ; it all seemed so simple as to be 
 only a passing fancy. I repeated 
 twenty times every morning and eve- 
 ning, as he asked me to do, "Day 
 by day, in every way, I am getting 
 
 [38] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 better and better," sometimes add- 
 ing, "and I am sure there will be no 
 recurrence of the pain." M. Coue 
 said there was no objection to making 
 this specific suggestion, though it was ,/ 
 not at all necessary. In less than a 
 week I found that I could move about 
 more easily and could do more things 
 without conscious effort than I had 
 been able to do for years. It was 
 then that the real cure was effected. 
 I could now sit for a long time with- 
 out changing position. I could walk 
 much more easily and after three 
 months, during which time I have 
 surely been getting better and better 
 each day, there has been no recur- 
 rence of the pain and I walk as well 
 and as easily as I did twenty years 
 ago. 
 
 The method that brought about 
 this result seems almost too simple 
 to tell. I have stated the treatment 
 in its entirety exactly as I received it. 
 How simple it all sounds in the tell- 
 ing I You go to Monsieur Coue with 
 
 [39] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 an ailment, you return home, you 
 seem to take up life when and as you 
 left it seventeen years ago. And yet, 
 it is not exactly so. Precisely what 
 you suffered from was not so much 
 a disease as a moral disaster; the 
 cure has given you more than the ab- 
 sence of pain. Something positive 
 has been gained — what M. Coue 
 calls "Self-Mastery." You are led 
 to see that life has more spiritual 
 value than you had given heed to. 
 It Is this intangible gain that I am 
 anxious to pass on to others. And 
 it Is with the hope that I can help 
 create a better understanding of M. 
 Coue's work gained by my own per- 
 sonal contact with him that I desire 
 to make these observations of his 
 system, which is certainly justified by 
 results and guaranteed by the logic of 
 science. 
 
 [402 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 COUE AND THE PEASANT ClINICS 
 
 It seems that the day I saw M. 
 Coue for the first time was reserved 
 for peasants. We discovered that 
 clinics are held and that regular 
 hours are observed as follows: On 
 two days a week, there are held what 
 are known as the Peasants' Clinics; 
 all other afternoons, except Sunday, 
 clinics are held in his home or in his 
 garden, the weather permitting, for 
 other people. 
 
 The Peasants' Clinics are held all 
 day long, in a little house in the 
 garden, and so many people flock to 
 them that four meetings are held, 
 two in the morning and two in the 
 afternoon. Sometimes these are dou- 
 bled in number, when M. Coue takes 
 one group while one of his followers 
 takes another. 
 
 The garden is most attractive and 
 
 [41] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 the atmosphere is calm, serene and 
 hopeful. The people begin to arrive 
 long before the hour set, and place 
 themselves in groups about the rooms 
 of the little house in the garden, 
 which is used for the peasants. It 
 needs but a glance to see what has 
 brought them hither; faces drawn 
 with pain, the tortured look of men- 
 tal distress, the twisted and bent 
 frames supported by cane or crutch, 
 all bear silent testimony to the need 
 and the hope of relief. Soon M. 
 Coue arrives. His manner is brisk, 
 cheerful, even happy. His invariable 
 practice is to give treatment in 
 groups. Since he practices for his 
 joy in the good he can accomplish 
 (for it is an actual fact that he ac- 
 cepts no fees), he is free to dictate 
 the terms under which he will treat 
 people. The only terms he makes 
 are that the patients shall come to 
 public clinics. So here he is, as acces- 
 sible as the air we breathe. No one 
 is denied, and yet, in a sense, he is 
 
 [42] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 most inaccessible, for no matter what 
 one's means or position, to see M. / 
 Coue, he must come to the group 
 meetings. 
 
 There seems to be a double pur- 
 pose underlying his regulation. First, 
 it minimizes the possibilities of the 
 patient's discussion of his own symp- 
 toms. To dwell upon symptoms is 
 to make a suggestion, which is highly 
 undesirable. We all know how char- 
 acteristic it is to rehearse symptoms, 
 particularly in the case of chronic 
 invalids. However, in a large group 
 it becomes practically impossible, and 
 that is a first step toward eliminating 
 an evil suggestion and substituting a 
 good one. Next, M. Coue, in his 
 whole attitude, reduces the impor- 
 tance of illness. He is cheerful. He 
 even makes little jokes as he makes 
 a round of the room. The second 
 purpose in group meetings seems to 
 be to strengthen the force of every 
 good suggestion made. As M. Coue 
 speaks to each one, and from practi- 
 
 [43] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 cally all the old patients come reports 
 of improvement, this naturally acts 
 upon the others to instil hope and 
 confidence. So he goes about, having 
 a few words with each. If he finds, 
 as he almost always does, someone 
 in acute pain, he stops a few moments 
 to dispel it, by the following method : 
 
 The patient is asked to relax as 
 much as possible and to sit quietly, 
 perhaps touching the part of the 
 body that is the seat of the pain. 
 Then he is told to say over and over, 
 rapidly, "C'est passe." M. Coue 
 demonstrates how, by saying the 
 words with the patient, and so rap- 
 idly does he speak that it sounds like 
 a small buzz saw. 
 
 You may doubt the possibility of 
 what I say, but it remains true that, 
 over and over, we saw this method 
 effective in action. 
 
 [44] 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Coue's Method of Auto- 
 suggestion 
 
 M. COUE, as is well known, main- 
 tains that the imagination is stronger 
 than the will. His whole science is 
 based upon this theory, and judging 
 from his experiments it is a very 
 workable theory indeed. To prove 
 his point M. Coue is fond of trying 
 a little experiment with several peo- 
 ple in succession to demonstrate how 
 powerful imagination really is. A 
 person is asked to clasp his hands, 
 pressing them together more and 
 more tightly, until they fairly trem- 
 ble. At the same time he is asked 
 to say to himself, over and over, "I 
 can't open them. I can't open them." 
 Then, still holding this thought as 
 firmly as possible, he is asked to try 
 to open them. Of course, as long as 
 he thinks he cannot, it is impossible 
 
 [45] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COTJfi 
 
 for him to do so. This experiment 
 cannot fail, for if the hands are un- 
 clasped it is because the patient de- 
 cided he could do it. 
 
 The effect upon the onlooker is 
 almost uncanny. It looks like magic, 
 but it is easily apparent that it is only 
 a simple demonstration of the power 
 of the mental attitude. Perhaps the 
 reader may have undergone a similar 
 experience, or seen someone else 
 struggle hard to do something, and 
 yet powerless to effect it. As an in- 
 stance we may take the effort needed 
 to dive into the water for the first 
 time from a spring-board. There 
 the individual stands; he honestly 
 wants to dive ; he Is ashamed not to. 
 Surely nothing could be simpler. It 
 looks a more difficult feat to stand, 
 poised and trembling at the edge of 
 the board, than to make the leap; 
 and yet some fear, deep within him, 
 holds him as though paralysed. A 
 similar experience may be observed 
 when one tries to cross a busy street. 
 
 [46] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUie 
 
 Unable to move hand or foot, one 
 stands rooted with terror, exposing 
 oneself to the very dangers one fears. 
 
 It is this same feeling of power- 
 lessness that M. Coue evokes in one 
 consciously in this experiment. Be- 
 cause of the feeling of the inability 
 to do a certain thing, one actually is 
 unable to do it. This experiment 
 seems to me another proof of the 
 deep wisdom of M. Coue, for in this 
 way he causes the patient to realize 
 the strength of his own thought, and 
 the responsibility he has toward its 
 proper direction. 
 
 The idea is next presented upon 
 which the whole method of conscious 
 autosuggestion is based. Before any- 
 one can understand what it is, he 
 must first of all realize the nature 
 of his own mind, namely, that he has 
 two selves. We have been prone to 
 think that the conscious self, the one 
 we know best, is the true self. It is 
 only a very recent development in 
 psychology that is bringing to the 
 
 [47] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 fore the other, really deeper and 
 truer self, the Unconscious or Sub- 
 conscious self. Even in the recent 
 discoveries, much emphasis has been 
 placed, however, on the Subconscious 
 as something evil, to be subdued and 
 controlled. M. Coue's attitude to- 
 ward it is quite different. 
 
 First of all, let us consider what 
 the unconscious does for us. There 
 are many bodily and mental activities 
 which we can consciously direct and 
 alter; but there are many more, of 
 greater importance, that we cannot 
 control through the mind. These 
 are more important because they are 
 the fundamental life activities with- 
 out which life could not continue. 
 Breathing, the beating of the heart, 
 the processes of digestion and many 
 more, all come under that category. 
 
 We have always been more or less 
 aware of the force of the subcon- 
 scious. Literature abounds with rec- 
 ognition of a power within oneself, 
 and yet often alien to one's real pur- 
 
 [48] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUlfi 
 
 poses. Indeed, if one set out with 
 this idea in mind, one could not read 
 a book without finding illustrations. 
 To quote from Miss Gather's new 
 book, One of Ours: 
 
 "The feeling of purpose, of fateful 
 purpose, was strong in his breast." 
 
 McFee, in his new novel Com- 
 mand, says : "For he had of late dis- 
 covered that a man can, in some 
 curious subconscious way, keep his 
 head in a swoon. Like a person who 
 is under an anaesthetic, who is aware 
 of his own pulsing, swaying descent 
 into a hurried yet timeless oblivion, 
 whose brain keeps an amused record 
 of the absurd efforts of alien intelli- 
 gences to communicate with him as 
 he drops past the spinning worlds 
 into darkness, and who is aware, too, 
 of his own entire helplessness, a man 
 can with advantage sometimes let 
 himself be fooled." 
 
 Mark Twain In his Autobiography 
 says: 
 
 "There are some books that refuse 
 
 [49] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 to be written. They stand their 
 ground, year after year, and will not 
 be persuaded. It is not because the 
 book is not there and worth being 
 written — it is only because the right 
 form of the story does not present 
 itself." 
 
 It has always been recognised that 
 under emotional stress we often seem 
 to be quite other beings than we like 
 to think we are, or, indeed, than we 
 try to be. It is common to hear it 
 said, "He was beside himself with 
 rage or fear." It has remained for 
 M. Coue to discover the real nature 
 of the unconscious, and to present it 
 not as an evil genius, rising from the 
 depths from time to time under emo- 
 tional impulsion to defeat our most 
 earnest purposes ; but that it is a deep 
 and vital force, capable of being edu- 
 cated and directed, provided that the 
 laws under which it works are ob- 
 served. Under those circumstances 
 it may become a very fruitful source 
 of power and peace. 
 
 [50] 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 COUE AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
 
 M. Coue's method is to study the 
 subconscious. His aim is to discover 
 when it most clearly manifests itself, 
 and how it operates. It is well 
 known that it is during sleep that it 
 is most active. As a matter of fact, 
 it is never dormant, and when sleep 
 lulls the conscious mind it is free to 
 manifest itself. It is of course im- 
 possible for the conscious mind to get 
 into touch with the unconscious dur- 
 ing sleep, but there can be found cer- 
 tain moments during waking periods 
 that correspond to the character 
 of sleep. We find that in periods 
 of complete relaxation. When day 
 dreams come, there exists such a 
 condition. 
 
 M. Coue, therefore, advocates 
 that upon retiring, and also immedi- 
 ately upon waking, while the mind 
 
 [SI] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 and body are as relaxed as possible, 
 everyone should make to himself the 
 general suggestion of well-being that 
 is coming to be a household expres- 
 sion: "Day by day, in every way, I 
 am getting better and better." This 
 is to be said twenty times. M. Coue 
 also suggests the use of a string with 
 twenty knots tied to it, for keeping 
 the record, and the uttering of the 
 words in as monotonous a tone as 
 possible. In other words, what is 
 known in psychology as voluntary or 
 active attention should be reduced to 
 a minimum; the conscious self is to 
 be lulled to as quiescent a state as 
 possible, short of actual sleep. M. 
 Coue explains that any idea which we 
 can succeed in having the subcon- 
 scious accept will be realized in ac- 
 tion, provided, however, that it is 
 within the realms of the possible ; for 
 he realizes that the human body has 
 limitations. 
 
 When dealing with his patients M. 
 Coue assures them that they will be 
 
 [52] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 better. He mentions various cases 
 present, speaking rather generally of 
 particular symptoms, and saying that 
 they will pass. It will be noted that 
 in this particular his method is quite 
 different from some others which 
 heal also by suggestion, for he recog- 
 nises the reality of pain and suffering. 
 He does not say: "You have no 
 pain," but "You will be better." 
 This calls forth no antagonistic sug- 
 gestion in the unconscious mind of 
 the patient. A second important 
 thing is his method of repetition. 
 Repetition in psychology is a very 
 useful factor, especially in the learn- 
 ing process. More and more, espe- 
 cially in recent research, its useful- 
 ness has been appreciated. It is used 
 extensively in the business world, and 
 advertising has built a scientific law 
 about it. How often are we led by 
 the constant repetition of an adver- 
 tiser to try his product I It is in just 
 the same way that one may cause the 
 subconscious to adopt an idea. A 
 
 [S3] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 very simple method, — so simple that, 
 paradoxical as it may sound, it is 
 very difficult. One is always prone 
 to slide over the easy and obvious, 
 and very often just those simple, 
 obvious things are the very funda- 
 mentals of life. Nature seems to 
 have derived her greatest joy in 
 working silently and unobserved. 
 Who has ever heard the seedling 
 germinate or the sap flow? Who 
 has ever taken stock of the workings 
 of thought in the human mind, as it 
 silently, quietly thinks the dreams 
 that may revolutionize a universe. 
 Thinking is such a common process, 
 — and yet there is hardly a man in 
 existence who can adequately say how 
 it is done. It is such a simple, such a 
 natural thing. 
 
 In his dealing with the subcon- 
 scious, Coue's method is strictly psy- 
 chological, for it is the application of 
 a sound principle of psychology. He 
 calls forth a state of mind among his 
 patients that succeeds in having them 
 
 [54] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 lose all fear of disease. He Inspires 
 them with self-confidence. His 
 method is not to have his patients get 
 well merely by having them deter- 
 mine to do so, but by causing them to 
 feel confident that their curative 
 powers are functioning in the best 
 possible manner. Once he succeeds 
 in getting this idea into the subcon- 
 scious mind of his patient, the cure 
 is effected. 
 
 [SS] 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 A Seance With Coue 
 
 To see M. Coue enter a room 
 crowded with patients, each anxious 
 to tell his distressing symptoms, 
 many revealing by their obvious de- 
 formities or useless members what 
 their needs are, is to feel at once his 
 personal power and his reservoir of 
 hope and enthusiasm. The daily 
 repetition of his great task of hear- 
 ing troubles and patiently explaining 
 them away, which would soon wear 
 out a person of ordinary vitality, has 
 no terrors for him. He throws off 
 weariness as lightly as the plow turns 
 off the sod from the furrow. He dis- 
 plays some of the energy of radium, 
 which constantly gives off its emana- 
 tions of power without any measur- 
 able diminution of strength. Once, 
 in response to a patient who com- 
 [56] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 plained of fatigue, M. Coue quickly- 
 retorted : 
 
 "Feel tired? Well, so do L 
 There are days when it tires me to 
 receive people, but I receive them 
 just the same, and all day long. Do 
 not say I cannot help it. One can 
 always overcome oneself." 
 
 As soon as M. Coue arrives, he 
 greets the group. No sign of ennui 
 is displayed on his face as he takes 
 in this distressing sight which has 
 come to him daily for twenty years. 
 The unceasing stream of the miser- 
 able does not even momentarily stag- 
 ger him. His enthusiasm is limitless. 
 Almost arrived at the normal end of 
 life, he continues to restore the life 
 and wasted energies of others. 
 
 As he takes up the day's work, his 
 manner is brisk, cheerful, radiant. 
 He makes the round of the room, 
 speaking to each one, listening to 
 each one. No story of suffering casts 
 him down. His attitude in the face 
 of each is serene, even confident and 
 
 [57] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 jolly. There is always a twinkling 
 smile ready to be evoked. He jokes 
 with the patients. He banters them. 
 He refuses to take disease seriously 
 or lugubriously. He lightly ridicules 
 their complaints. He will not hear 
 of symptoms. 
 
 "Oh, Madame, not so many de- 
 tails, I beg you!" he protests laugh- 
 ingly. "By looking for details you 
 create them, and you would want a 
 list a yard long to contain all your 
 maladies. As a matter of fact, it is 
 the mental outlook which is wrong. 
 Well, make up your mind it is going 
 to be better and it will be so. It's as 
 simple as the Gospel." 
 
 Always, whenever he finds some- 
 one in acute pain he dispels it in his 
 usual way by having the patient sit 
 quietly, relaxed, perhaps touching the 
 painful area, and repeating rapidly 
 after him: "Ca passe, ga passe, ga 
 passe, ga passe " 
 
 As first seen thus at work, M. 
 Coue seems almost to have a com- 
 
 [S8] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 mand over pain and disease. He 
 says it will pass, and it passes. He 
 says, "You will be better," and you 
 are better. Once he left his quiet 
 home in Nancy to journey to Paris — 
 a rare excursion for one so devoted 
 to the unfortunates who seek him 
 out. The crowds flocked to him, — 
 some skeptical, some ready to believe 
 anything. The sick and lame dogged 
 his heels. Nearly all were relieved; 
 many were instantly cured. He went 
 to London to deliver a lecture, and 
 set all England by the ears with his 
 remarkable demonstrations of drug- 
 less healing. And everything he ac- 
 complishes quietly, naturally, with 
 almost childlike simplicity. 
 
 One day, during a seance, there 
 was a little stir near the door. We 
 were seated in the hall and saw 
 plainly that a man was being brought 
 in by some persons in a hand-basket. 
 He was very ill with asthma. They 
 brought him into the room and M. 
 Coue said: 
 
 [S9] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 "Why did you not come up the 
 steps?" 
 
 There are three or four steps 
 leading to M. Coue's home. 
 
 The man panted: "I could not." 
 
 M. Coue then took his hand and 
 said: 
 
 "Walk down the steps with me." 
 
 When they reached the pavement 
 M. Coue said again: 
 
 "Now I want you to go up the 
 steps alone." 
 
 "But I cannot do it," replied the 
 man. 
 
 M. Coue again assured him that 
 he could do it and had him repeat 
 many, many times, "I can go up those 
 steps; I can go up those steps." 
 
 In less than five minutes he walked 
 up the steps, showed some exertion 
 when he entered the hall, and rested 
 awhile. M. Coue had him repeat it. 
 Thereupon the man walked down the 
 steps, coming up again with far less 
 exertion. Always before each new 
 trial, he said: "I can go up and down 
 [60] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 these steps easily." This action he 
 repeated three times during the after- 
 noon, with intervals of rest. 
 
 The next time he came to the 
 clinic he was walking altogether 
 without support, and was showing no 
 signs of difficulty in breathing. I 
 saw him on several occasions after 
 that, and he told me that he had no 
 difficulty whatever after the first 
 efforts. 
 
 rsi] 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CouE AND Divine Healing 
 
 In his various clinics M. Coue has 
 conquered cases of paralysis, tuber- 
 culosis, asthma, anaemia, stuttering, 
 enteritis, gout, dyspepsia, eczema 
 and neurasthenia in all its manifes- 
 tations. The crippled have thrown 
 away their crutches and walked for 
 the first time, sometimes after a sin- 
 gle treatment. So amazing are some 
 of his results, so great is the joy in- 
 stantly felt by those relieved, and by 
 them infectiously communicated to 
 astonished witnesses, that it is not 
 surprising that M. Coue himself is 
 hailed as the healer, the source of 
 power that accomplishes these cures. 
 Christian Scientists, when they 
 achieve similar results, assert that it 
 is divine healing. Those in charge 
 of Catholic shrines such as Lourdes 
 and Ste. Anne de Beaupre say that it 
 [62] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 is God working through the interces- 
 sion of particular saints in special 
 localities that produces the marvel- 
 ous results. Hindoo healers have 
 claimed magical or religious powers 
 to cure, in similar fashion. Even 
 the proof of Christ's own divinity is 
 sometimes asserted on the strength 
 of the miracles of healing which He 
 performed. 
 
 The popular mind is thoroughly 
 prepared to believe that divine power 
 can produce particular cures, that the 
 Deity does sometimes take note of, 
 and miraculously heal individuals, 
 and that the possession, therefore, by 
 a human being, of power to effect 
 cures in an unexplained fashion with- 
 out material aid is in itself proof of 
 his possessing some superhuman, 
 spiritual force. 
 
 On this account, most people, 
 when convinced that M. Coue's 
 method does cure, assume that he 
 has some special power in himself. 
 Many hail him as a divine agent, and 
 
 L63] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 it is easy to believe him a person such 
 as might be selected for the exercise 
 of peculiar forces. His venerable 
 sprightliness, his sinister joy in doing 
 good, his gleeful, chuckling attitude 
 in the face of the most discouraging 
 maladies, cause him to appear a little 
 affected by some kind of madness. 
 Why should he, an old man, have 
 been doing this sort of thing for 
 twenty years without losing his ex- 
 cited enthusiasm In it? Why should 
 he be so removed from the ordinary 
 motives of ordinary human beings? 
 
 "Perhaps it is profitable to him?" 
 the skeptic might ask. 
 
 But not at all. He takes no fees. 
 He not only demands no money, but 
 even refuses to accept any. He lives 
 simply and takes no pleasures beyond 
 early morning labors in the garden, 
 and his long hours of work with his 
 patients. His time is taken up to the 
 extent of fifteen to sixteen hours a 
 day. "I have never seen Coue re- 
 fuse to give a treatment at however 
 
 [64] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 awkward the hour the subject may 
 have asked for it," says one admirer. 
 He has subscribed his private means, 
 opened his own house, and devoted 
 every waking minute of his time to 
 this miraculous healing of the sick. 
 They come to him, and he gives of 
 himself, taking nothing in return. He 
 is thus absolutely exposed as a man 
 of pure heart. He is caught white- 
 handed with innocence. He is con- 
 victed, by his own actions, of being a 
 bit touched with divinity ! 
 
 No wonder that a severe critic, a 
 Polytechnlcian, exclaims, "He is a 
 power!" or that a lady asks, aftei 
 seeing his cures, "Do you think there 
 are beings who radiate influence?" 
 
 One woman, excited by the disap- 
 pearance of her suffering, cried: 
 "Oh, M. Coue, one could kneel to 
 you. You are the merciful Godl" 
 And another corrected her, saying: 
 "No, His messenger." 
 
 M. Coue himself attributes noth- 
 ing divine or superhuman to his mar- 
 
 [6s] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 velous cures. There is no mistake 
 about his answer to that question : 
 
 "It is not the person who acts," 
 says Coue; "it is the method. 
 
 "I have no magnetic fluid. 
 
 "I have no influence. 
 
 "I have never cured anybody. 
 
 "My disciples obtain the same re- 
 sults as myself. 
 
 "Things which seem miraculous to 
 you have a perfectly natural cause; 
 if they seem extraordinary it is only 
 because the cause escapes you. When 
 you know that, you realize that noth- 
 ing could be more natural." 
 
 Not his personal power, but auto- 
 suggestion conveyed by the subject 
 himself, to himself, is Coue's own 
 explanation for his cures. Auto- 
 suggestion he defines as a sort of 
 self-hypnotism, "the influence of the 
 imagination upon the moral and 
 physical being." 
 
 "If you persuade yourself that 
 you can do a certain thing, provided 
 
 [66] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 that thing be possible, you will do it, 
 however difficult it may be." 
 
 To one patient Coue said: "When 
 I tell you that you are better, you 
 do feel better at once, don't you? 
 Why? , Because you have faith in me. 
 Just believe in yourself and you will 
 obtain the same result." 
 
 In his lectures Coue always ex- 
 plains to his patients that he pos- 
 sesses no healing powers; that they 
 carry in themselves the source of 
 their well-being. He is merely an 
 agent to instil ideas of health into 
 their minds. 
 
 "Autosuggestion is an instrument 
 which you have to learn how to use, 
 just as you would any other instru- 
 ment. An excellent gun in inexpe- 
 rienced hands only gives wretched 
 results, but the more skilled the 
 hands become the more easily they 
 place the bullets in the target. 
 
 "When certain people do not ob- 
 tain satisfactory results with auto- 
 suggestion, it is either because they 
 
 [67] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUlfi 
 
 lack confidence, or because they make 
 efforts, which is the more frequent 
 case. To make good suggestions it 
 is absolutely necessary to do so with- 
 out effort. Conscious autosuggestion, 
 made with confidence, with faith, 
 with perseverance, realizes itself 
 mathematically, within reason." 
 
 Coue, then, lays no claim to per- 
 sonal power, or even religious aid In 
 effecting cures. Indeed, as we have 
 seen, he ascribes to autosuggestion 
 the cures for which religious sanction 
 is asserted. 
 
 "The means employed by the heal- 
 ers all go back to autosuggestion," 
 he says. "That is to say, that these 
 methods, whatever they are — words, 
 incantations, gestures, staging — all 
 produce in the patient the autosug- 
 gestion of recovery." 
 
 This self-depreciation, while disap- 
 pointing the enthusiasts and disarm- 
 ing the carpers, is well justified by 
 the history of autosuggestion. Too 
 many people before Coue have suc- 
 [68] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 ceeded by approximately the same 
 methods for any one person to be 
 able to assert his possession of 
 strange, occult powers. Indeed, Coue 
 had, in his own town of Nancy, a 
 prototype in nearly eyery particular. 
 
 169] 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Coue's Predecessors in Auto- 
 suggestion 
 
 The modern theory of psychother- 
 apy owes its real birth to a little 
 French country doctor, A. A. Lie- 
 bault, who opened a public dispen- 
 sary in Nancy as long ago as 1860, 
 announcing that he would treat, free 
 of charge, all who would submit to 
 be hypnotized. Although ignored 
 and scouted by his medical brethren, 
 — for at that period hypnotism, still 
 being more or less an occult science, 
 was looked upon apprehensively, — 
 for twenty-five years he treated the 
 poorer classes practically without 
 charge. H i s patients numbered 
 about 15,000. Liebault's public spirit 
 was quite as high as that of Coue, 
 and his method was not dissimilar, 
 for Coue himself began with hyp- 
 notism, and only as time went on 
 
 [70] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 found it possible to induce autosug- 
 gestion without producing sleep. 
 
 There were also other practition- 
 ers of drugless healing at Nancy, — 
 Bernheim, Liegeois (professor of 
 Jurisprudence) and Beaunis (profes- 
 sor of Physiology). They all pub- 
 lished books on the subject. The 
 Nancy school of investigation has 
 been followed in France by such men 
 as A. Voisin, Barillon, Dejerine, 
 Luys, Cullere, Nizet, Laloy, Reg- 
 noult and others, besides many more 
 in other countries. 
 
 At the present day Coue does not 
 stand quite alone in his practice. His 
 assistants, especially Mile. Kauff- 
 mant, and those in charge of the in- 
 stitute for the Practice of Autosug- 
 gestion in London, and above all 
 Coue's friend and fellow investiga- 
 tor, Professor Charles Baudouin, of 
 Switzerland, all perform similar 
 works of restoration. Indeed, they 
 all meet with excellent results. I 
 myself was cured of a minor trouble 
 
 [71] 
 
MY PII.GRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 through the efforts of a young Eng- 
 lish girl working with Coue. 
 
 We should not too lightly dispose 
 of Coue, however. In spite of his 
 own modest disclaimers, in spite of a 
 multitude of predecessors, associates 
 and disciples, the little, stoop-shoul- 
 dered chemist of Nancy remains not 
 only the sensation of to-day, but, 
 with justice, the leader and the 
 greatest name connected with auto- 
 suggestion. He, through his person- 
 ality and astonishing cures, through 
 his disinterested love of doing good 
 for Its own sake, has done much to 
 popularize and gain adherents to his 
 method of autosuggestion. He has 
 succeeded in making of it not a con- 
 fined. Insular scientific discovery, but 
 a universally applicable law. 
 
 His faith rests securely upon a 
 great truth and a great service. The 
 truth, which he was the first to make 
 plain, was precisely the disclosure 
 that this method was free for all to 
 practice. If they were sufficiently in- 
 
 [72] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 terested. His service lay in his great 
 skill in so simplifying the principles 
 of autosuggestion that everybody in 
 the world can understand them. 
 Other suggestionists knowingly or 
 unconsciously have lent themselves to 
 the illusion that they possessed spe- 
 cial powers, or were dealing with a 
 technique that only the Initiate ought 
 to be allowed to practice. They kept 
 their methods cryptic, vague, mys- 
 terious, — an exclusive possession. 
 They would not allow any one to see 
 the wheels go 'round. Coue, on the 
 other hand, has made autosuggestion 
 as simple and universal in its availa- 
 bility as the air we breathe. What 
 genius it reveals, after all, to take a 
 few simple instruments, such as a 
 string of twenty knots, a doggerel of 
 twelve words, and two or three easy 
 affirmations, and to create out of 
 them a system of drugless medicine 
 that has the world at respectful at- 
 tention! If Coue's cures are not 
 magical, his personal methods are. 
 
 [73] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 The hardest thing for most people 
 to understand about Coueism is that 
 there isn't more of it. The sole tenet 
 in the system is the deliberately 
 adopted belief that, whatever ails 
 you, you are getting better. The 
 sole means of forming that belief is 
 to put the affirmation to work in your 
 subconscious mind, with the expecta- 
 tion that the subconscious mind will 
 carry the belief out into actuality 
 while you are occupied with other 
 things. The sole means of putting 
 that belief to work is to din it into 
 the mind by tireless assertion at those 
 times of day when the will is most 
 quiescent, and when the fancy is most 
 credulous. 
 
 [74] 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Other Applications for Auto- 
 suggestion 
 
 So far we have treated autosugges- 
 tion insofar as it is used in particular 
 conditions, specific infirmities. If, 
 however, one desires a general sug- 
 gestion for well-being, in digestion, 
 other bodily functions and sleep, M. 
 Coue has a routine for that — a state- 
 ment which he himself recites before 
 his patients at the end of a seance. 
 He has them sit quietly, relaxed, 
 with their eyes closed, while he mut- 
 ters over them a long suggestion 
 about the healthy functioning of 
 every part of the body and mind. 
 The effect he secures Is invariably an 
 immediate lifting of the spirits of 
 those who hear it. 
 
 For particular maladies, as we 
 have already said, M. Coue gives 
 assent to the formulation of specific 
 
 [75] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 statements suggesting particular im- 
 provements, but he is somewhat skep- 
 tical about the relative value of such 
 itemizing formulae. There is always 
 the possibility of focusing the mind 
 on the symptom rather than on the 
 improvement expected. Anxiety to 
 get well may take the place of the 
 healing belief in a cure, and thus the 
 will is fatally brought in, and the ills 
 complained of become more acute 
 and vivid than ever. The safer way 
 is to forget just what troubles one, 
 and to feel comforted in the general 
 belief engendered by. the assertion 
 that "Day by day, in every way, I 
 am getting better and better." 
 
 Thus M. Coue brings his method 
 to an end just where he began it, in 
 a sing-song of childlike simplicity, 
 which he frankly acknowledges to be 
 his whole system. He labors with 
 his followers to make them accept 
 the truth that nothing more is neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Anything further introduced into 
 [76] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 the Coue system by himself or by 
 anyone else is a variant of the for- 
 mula, or merely an approach to the 
 threshold of belief. There are, in- 
 deed, hurdles to be got over before 
 the subconscious mind can accept the 
 suggestion of daily growing better. 
 In the minds of the skeptical, doubts 
 must be removed, suggestibility built 
 up, hope enkindled, faith engendered, 
 and a desire aroused sufficient to keep 
 the subject repeating the formula 
 long enough for it to start its work 
 in the subconscious. 
 
 As a means of awakening such 
 hope and preparing the mind for be- 
 lief, the Coue demonstrations are, of 
 course, of sovereign value. Nothing 
 succeeds like success. A visual 
 demonstration is worth hours of 
 argument and verbal proof. Hence, 
 M. Coue receives his patients always 
 in groups, in order that the more 
 suggestible people who are most 
 easily and quickly cured may infect 
 by their example and convince by 
 
 [771 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 their cries of delight and astonish- 
 ment the more phlegmatic individ- 
 uals who scoff. Each day, along 
 with the inquiring newcomers, finds 
 old patients who are ready to testify 
 and to reinforce their testimony with 
 their hopeful attitudes that they have 
 made, and are still making, improve- 
 ments. 
 
 Furthermore, the newcomer is al- 
 ways given the hand-clasping test of 
 suggestibility, which is usually effec- 
 tive enough to convince him. 
 
 Fortunately, however, one does 
 not have to begin with faith in the 
 method to sustain benefit. The sub- 
 conscious mind often fashions a be- 
 lief for itself out of the infection of 
 such demonstrations and goes to 
 work on it while the conscious mind 
 is still wrestling with difficulties, 
 hunting for proofs and bothering 
 about theories. I, myself, went over 
 to Nancy with hope, but hardly with 
 belief. 
 
 Simple people, however, children, 
 [78] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 and the peasants, who flock in such 
 numbers to the clinic, and persons of 
 marked religious tendencies are like- 
 ly to be benefited at once. They 
 arrive prepared to believe, the for- 
 mula works upon them, the demon- 
 stration convinces them, and they are 
 cured, if not immedia^tely, then in 
 short order. The complete simplicity 
 of the Coue method and its general 
 adaptability is by such cases tri- 
 umphantly demonstrated. 
 
 The more sophisticated mind, 
 however, cannot so easily be worked 
 upon. People of higher education 
 and wider experience demand that 
 results seemingly so miraculous be 
 brought Into conformity with the 
 general laws of science. They want 
 to see how it is possible for the mind 
 to perform cures of maladies that 
 have not yielded to medicine. 
 
 [79] 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 The Psychology of 
 
 Autosuggestion 
 
 The practice of Coueism is self- 
 contained and sufficient in itself, but 
 for those who need to go beyond, 
 and care to follow his theory, Coue 
 has explanations nearly as lucid and 
 simple as the method. He has deep- 
 ly investigated the nature of the sub- 
 conscious or unconscious mind. There 
 he has found certain psychological 
 laws which seem to him to account 
 for his surprising results. Nothing 
 new is created by these laws, al- 
 though several things are freshly 
 stated. The scientific merit of 
 Coue's explanation lies in his bring- 
 ing together known and demonstrable 
 principles of psychology, and his re- 
 jection of every unsound theory. 
 
 To begin with, he acknowledges 
 his limitations. He does not attempt 
 [80] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 ^"^^— ■■■— ^■^^^^^^^^^^^^-^^"— "■^-^^-^^-^— ^ 
 
 the impossible. When promising 
 benefits, he always says, "providing 
 this thing be possible." "You are 
 capable of accomplishing perfectly 
 well whatever you wish to do, — on 
 condition that it is reasonable, and 
 whatever it is your duty to do." 
 "What you say persistently and very 
 quickly comes to pass (within the 
 domain of the reasonable, of 
 course)." 
 
 Nevertheless, Coue is very spar- 
 ing of mention of the diseases or con- 
 ditions that he considers it reason- 
 able to cure. He admits that auto- 
 suggestion cannot set broken bones, 
 or replace severed fingers. He ad- 
 mits the possibility of transmitting 
 infectious diseases. I have seen him 
 tell a new patient, a woman, that she 
 must first consult a physician for a 
 morbid condition before he would 
 consent to receive her into the group 
 for his treatment. The best he could 
 hope to do for a former soldier with 
 a mutilated face was to improve his 
 [8i] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TOCOUfi 
 
 moral fortitude to enable him to 
 escape the embarassment and de- 
 pression caused by his unfortunate 
 appearance. Another former sol- 
 dier, shell-shocked, was considered a 
 doubtful case. If his mind was too 
 far gone to receive suggestions, of 
 course, Coue admitted, autosugges- 
 tion could not cure him. The small 
 percentage of insane, of people of 
 arrested mental development or of 
 unsuggestible temperaments are also 
 ruled out as outside the range of his 
 ministrations. 
 
 For the rest, however, Coue ac- 
 cepts no handicaps. He has seen im- 
 provements in so many apparently in- 
 curable maladies when they have 
 been faced with confidence, that he 
 confronts them all with the sover- 
 eign remedy, which is confidence. A 
 jaunty self-assurance in the presence 
 of disease is his manner, because it 
 is also his cure. 
 
 To one patient he says: "You tell 
 me you have attacks of nerves every 
 [82] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 week. Well, from to-day you are 
 going to do what I tell you and you 
 will cease to have them." 
 
 To another: "And you, Monsieur, 
 your varicose ulcer is already bet- 
 ter." 
 
 To a third: "Ah, you have glau- 
 coma, Madame. I cannot absolutely 
 promise to cure you of that, for I am 
 not sure that I can. That does not 
 mean that you cannot be cured, for I 
 have known it to happen in the case 
 of a lady of Chalon-sur-Saone and 
 another of Lorraine." Or again: 
 "You say that you have suffered for 
 forty years? It is none the less true 
 that you can be cured to-morrow, on 
 condition, naturally, of your doing 
 exactly what I tell you to do, in the 
 way I tell you to do It." 
 
 Is such optimism then, unscien- 
 tific? Does the note sound strained? 
 Perhaps so, if one demand of Coue 
 the reticence of a diagnostician mak- 
 ing what he calls a prognosis. The 
 specialist, in his desire never to be 
 
 [83] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 found to have overstated the pros- 
 pects of cure, usually makes so 
 gloomy a forecast that he gives the 
 patient a case of melancholy that has 
 to be dealt with before his original 
 trouble can be tackled. In a scant 
 proportion of cases, Coue's happy 
 predictions may prove to have been 
 overdrawn; in all the rest they have 
 been, themselves, the means of 
 bringing themselves to pass. 
 
 All successful physicians nowadays 
 recognize this fact, — that an opti- 
 mistic attitude toward a disease is the 
 first essential for a cure. The most 
 orthodox medical people are placing 
 more and more reliance upon nat- 
 ural, self-corrective factors and less 
 and less upon medicines. 
 
 Dr. Richard Cabot, for instance, 
 in his "Layman's handbook on medi- 
 cine," which deserves to be read 
 alongside of Coue, says, "There is 
 this consoling fact about disease, 
 viz : that it usually gets well of itself, 
 if given half a chance. Many a vic- 
 
 [84] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 tory over germs is so easily won that 
 we never experience any illness at 
 all. Traces of struggle are left in 
 the tissues, but the patient never 
 knows it. When the attack is forci- 
 ble enough to make us aware of dis- 
 ease, we try to aid nature. By rest, 
 diet, nursing or surgery, we clear the 
 way for Nature's army of Restora- 
 tion. 
 
 "Occasionally we take a more de- 
 cisive part. In eight diseases — ma- 
 laria, chlorosis, myxedenia, syphilis, 
 diphtheria, latent tetanus, sunstroke, 
 hookworm and a few other tropical 
 diseases — what we do may really be 
 called cure. In 270 (odd) other dis- 
 eases as listed in text-books of medi- 
 cine, nature, with some help from 
 our hygiene, can usually do the work. 
 It IS only in cancer and a few other 
 maladies — most of them rare — that 
 nature does little or nothing for our 
 restoration to health. 
 
 "In most cases, then, it is a win- 
 ning fight that we enter when we 
 
 [85] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfl 
 
 contribute our tiny strength to aid 
 the colossal and beneficent inge- 
 nuity of nature's sanitation. What 
 we do is vastly worthwhile because 
 it tries to imitate and in some de- 
 gree to supplement the ever-active 
 Power not ourselves that makes for 
 health." 
 
 This is the word of a great phys- 
 ician on the staff of Harvard Uni- 
 versity, and formerly head of Massa- 
 chusetts General Hospital — that 
 drugs can cure eight diseases, and 
 out of 300 cases nature cures 272. 
 
 What Cabot calls "Nature" Coue 
 more specifically calls "the subcon- 
 scious." "Nature," so far as it is in 
 us, of course, is our vital processes — 
 the unconscious growth, decay, 
 movement, elimination and chemical 
 change, that goes on unceasingly, and 
 usually without feeling, in our in- 
 ternal organs and tissues. It is not 
 exactly conscious, as we well know, 
 and yet it is presided over and di- 
 rected by a system of nerves that 
 
 [86] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 have their ultimate origin and end- 
 ings in the brain. It is related to 
 consciousness, we also know, because 
 what we do and feel consciously af- 
 fects it adversely or beneficially. 
 
 The proof of the influence of con- 
 scious feeling upon the hidden under- 
 tow of nature, which is the uncon- 
 scious, is borne in upon us in a thou- 
 sand ways. Bad news of sickness un- 
 nerves us, quite as if we had taken 
 something deleterious into our stom- 
 achs. A mere thought reaches our 
 vital organs and throws them out 
 of kilter. Some people, if brought 
 to the top of a high building grow 
 dizzy and sicken at the mere sight. 
 A change of scene — travel and ex- 
 citement — are often prescribed by 
 physicians as a cure for nervous dis- 
 eases and even functional derange- 
 ments. If asked to toe a crack on 
 the floor, any normal person can do 
 so accurately, but only a practiced 
 foot can safely walk a wide plank 
 over a deep chasm. Fear disturbs 
 
 [873 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 all the functions of the body. Anger 
 often poisons and sickens. 
 
 The conscious attitude of confi- 
 dence, hope and striving is necessary 
 to maintain health. Who knows of 
 a case of a business man's success- 
 fully "retiring" in his old age? 
 Either he finds other objects of en- 
 deavor connected with earlier experi- 
 ence, and so essentially keeps going, 
 or else he rapidly goes to pieces and 
 early falls a victim to disease and 
 death. 
 
 A man who has never known a 
 sick day in his life occasionally dis- 
 covers, when past middle age, that 
 he has some incurable malady, en- 
 larged heart, cancer, or Bright's dis- 
 ease. The disclosure is usually fatal 
 before the disease can work itself 
 out. A person who has often been 
 at death's door and rallied can stand 
 bad news about himself more stoic- 
 ally, because in the recesses of his 
 mind is the recollection of having 
 fooled the doctors before, 
 [88] 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 The Force of the Subconscious 
 
 The subconscious, that unbeknown 
 to us, works for our help or hurt 
 is undeniably a tremendous force, 
 though it is not yet sufficiently under- 
 stood. However, it has been dem- 
 onstrated that it often works in con- 
 junction with the conscious mind, ac- 
 cepting suggestions that were first 
 presented to the latter. It is the 
 great storehouse of memory whence 
 come those sudden flashes of recol- 
 lection of some inconsidered incident 
 of childhood. It is the great amphi- 
 theatre of feeling and reasoning, 
 whence come our sudden passions, 
 our unhidden desires or decisions to 
 do certain things. Ideas come forth 
 from the unconscious mind greatly 
 elaborated, enveloped with new feel- 
 ings, constructed into formidable 
 systems out of the minute daily offer- 
 
 [89] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUE 
 
 ings of conscious experience. Just 
 as the painfully slow accretions of 
 the bodies of coral polyps under the 
 sea ultimately build up an island such 
 as the Bermudas, so the little acts 
 and suggestions of health or sickness 
 accumulate under the surface of our 
 consciousness until they finally 
 emerge as an all-determining atti- 
 tude, desire, or state of health. 
 
 It is Coue's discovery that what- 
 ever idea Is presented to the uncon- 
 scious with an attitude of belief is 
 accepted as reality and gradually 
 realizes Itself In the unconscious. 
 Hence his constant mission of favor- 
 able suggestions to the unconscious. 
 In his view. It Is idle to try to up- 
 root Ideas In the unconscious. When- 
 ever the will and the imagination 
 (the belief to which we give con- 
 sent) come Into conflict, the imagina- 
 tion Invariably wins the day. For 
 the imagination Is simply that which, 
 for us, is reality. The will is simply 
 what we feel or desire about it, 
 
 [90] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 which cannot, of course, remove it. 
 The only way to replace our sub- 
 conscious sense of reality is to im- 
 plant new belief by the process of 
 autosuggestion. Thus he comes back 
 to the simple reiteration of "I am 
 getting better and better" to build 
 up new islands of consciousness un- 
 der the surface of our knowing. The 
 simplicity of the Coue system, there- 
 fore, is not alone justified by its re- 
 sults, but profoundly guaranteed by 
 the logic of science. 
 
 [91] 
 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO COUfi 
 
 CREDO 
 I believe in the earnestness of pur- 
 pose of Emile Coue, in his devotion 
 to and sincerity in his work; in his 
 great kindness to all patients, 
 whether they are In the highest or 
 more humble paths of life; in his 
 affirmations of recovery to all, when 
 he believes a cure is possible; in his 
 statement that he has limitations and 
 that many cures cannot be effected by 
 him; in his assertion that dread and 
 fear are the great hindrances to 
 health; in the spiritual thought that 
 his patients receive from him, re- 
 newing their interest in life and their 
 courage to go on under the most ad- 
 verse conditions; in fact, I believe in 
 all his methods, all his attitude to- 
 ward sickness, sorrow or distress. 
 I believe that in all this he ap- 
 proaches very near to the Great 
 Comforter, for he certainly lives up 
 to all His precepts. He epitomizes 
 every word and deed of the com- 
 mand — "freely ye have received, 
 freely give." 
 
 [92]