CHAPTERXVII.RECREATION. HOBBIES.

CHAPTERXVII.RECREATION. HOBBIES.Games.Recreation may be divided into games, reading and hobbies. Games occupy a useful part in daily life. Indoor ones form a pleasant way of passing the time, and helping to take the mind off work and everything else that tends to cause worry or fatigue.Outdoor ones tempt people to fresh air and exercise, and thus constitute a valuable aid to health. And games of all sorts do one thing, they teach people to take a beating in good part. By games we mean of course the playing, not the watching of them. One game even badly played is worth fifty hours of looking on while others take part, even if they are experts and play vastly better than we could ever do.Hobbies.Yet games necessitate having someone to play with, and there are many times in our lives when we cannot have anyone else to take a part. That is the great advantage of hobbies, they can be enjoyed in solitude.Not that we have any wish to drive people to solitude, for there is nothing worse than being alone too much. Solitary people are very apt to become too introspective, and that is always abad thing for their nervous systems. If people avoid the society of their fellow-men they acquire an undue sense of their own importance, and their own affairs loom too largely in their thoughts. Furthermore, they are liable to become depressed, and to develop that mixture of conceit and diffidence which is of all things most objectionable.It is because solitude is inevitable that we are anxious to lay stress on those things which will effectually prevent that morbid introspection and make life brighter and happier. And hobbies fulfil both these requirements. There are thousands of people who are doomed to live in lodgings. They have no one at hand to join them in a game, and unless they have some congenial occupation wherewith to occupy their minds, life becomes a poor, dull affair.Hobbies and home life.It often happens, too, that those who have the privileges of family life have to depend on themselves for their own amusement at times. The other people in the house may be busy or disinclined to take part in any game. Besides that, games are apt to pall in time; you cannot carry them on indefinitely. Then it is that a hobby becomes a priceless boon. It does more than enliven solitude, it makes all the difference to home-life also.A man returned home after a hard day at business, and after he had had his meal sat down and spent the evening gazing with a bored, tired countenance into the fire, a cheerful spectacle for his poor wife, who had also had a worrying day,and would have been glad of a little brightness. The boys and girls had even to be sent out of the room, as their talking made father’s head ache.As he sat there his one thought was of his work. It was all he had to think about, for he had never cultivated any pursuits or broadened his interests in any way. And running the mind in one groove is, like singing on one note, a tiring occupation. That man was always tired, body and soul. Of late, too, he had had another worry, for he had found himself becoming more nervous and irritable, and with less confidence in his own powers. The dread had come upon him that he was going to break down. And as he thought of his wife and family, who would be left insufficiently provided for, it nearly broke his heart.Twelve months later if you had gone to that same house you would have seen the table littered with prints and negatives. Blessed be untidiness, of that sort at any rate; it generally means, like the dirt on a boy’s face, that someone is happy. There were no tired looks now, and no sending the young people out of the room. Instead, everyone was cheerful, everyone talking at once, and as for father, you would not have known him. Even the children did not know what was coming over him, he was getting so jolly. His friends, too, and he had more of them of late than he used to have, were glad to meet him, instead of fighting shy of him as an old bore like they used to do.The secret of it all was that he had been to a lecture on birds, and the lecturer had describedthe fascination of photographing them in their haunts. He had taken it up, and the result was that he had seen more than birds, for his eyes had been opened to all the beauties of Nature, and he had found the world a very pleasant place to live in after all. The fresh air and exercise which he had enjoyed whilst following his new bent had banished his dyspepsia, his headaches had disappeared, and he had forgotten all about the palpitation and vague pains and discomforts that used to worry the life out of him.His nervous system had taken a new lease of life. He had lost all his dreads and forebodings, and had regained his old confidence in business matters. The old wearing monotony of life had gone, and his brain was alive and keen with varied interests, for no hobby comes alone, it invariably brings its friends along with it. And the more the merrier.This welcome change in his manner of spending his evenings, the change from wearisome brooding to congenial pastime, had given to his mind the repose it had stood so badly in need of, and for want of which it had been slowly but surely drifting towards a breakdown. For the latter is due, as we have already seen, to a gradual disorganisation of the various functions of the body undermining the nervous system. And a hobby such as this, combining indoor and outdoor pursuits, does more than relieve the tedium of a tired brain, it invigorates every organ and tissue in the body.Hobbies in the treatment of breakdowns.And they not only act as a direct preventive ofbreakdowns themselves, but they are an invaluable aid to other forms of treatment. If a lethargic person is ordered to take exercise, it is a constant difficulty to keep him up to it, unless he has some other inducement. Get him to take up some outdoor pursuit, such as gardening or natural history in one or other of its multifarious phases, and he will have exercise in abundance without knowing that he is taking it. Numbers of men would be vastly better in health, too, if they had more exercise after reaching home, especially on winter evenings, instead of sitting by the fire until bedtime. If told to take up physical drill, they may go on with it for a time, but will almost certainly get tired of these duty exercises after a while. Persuade them to take up wood carving or carpentry, and they will get all that they need and a large measure of enjoyment at the same time.Many a case of gout, dyspepsia, sluggish liver and such-like ailments in stout, plethoric persons can be cured by this means more effectually than by any other.Or it may be that patients are ordered rest, because of some overstrain, or a weakness in some particular organ, as the lungs or heart. It is difficult enough to secure this rest in the case of a woman, but in that of a man it is wellnigh impossible. There is no more restless being than a man who is either confined to the house or unable to walk far. He gets tired of reading and playing “Patience,” and the result is that in mostinstances he moons about aimlessly, a nuisance to himself and to those around him. Once let him take up some hobby which will interest him, and the case becomes entirely different. He can take his camera and photograph places or people, near at hand or farther away according to his powers of walking, and can find ample occupation in the evenings or on wet days, developing, printing and arranging the pictures he has taken.Or he can take his specimen case and spend whole days quietly hunting for wild flowers, birds’ eggs, or anything else he is inclined for, and obtain a vast amount of pleasure afterwards in setting out his treasures. Or he can do a bit of gardening, heavy or light according to his capabilities, and if he has a greenhouse he can fill up his time profitably when the state of the weather does not permit of outside work.Hobbies have ceased to be regarded simply as a means of putting in time, and have come to occupy an important part in medical treatment. Consumptive sanatoria, for instance, present a very different appearance now from what they did some years ago. At that time the visitor was met with the pitiable spectacle of a melancholy array of dispirited patients, lying about in all stages of dejection. Now he sees men and women engaged in gardening and other outdoor pursuits, looking as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves, which is just what theyaredoing.The same benefit from such pursuits is found in all cases where fresh air is required, as in anæmia, neurasthenia, etc. An outdoor hobbysecures the fresh air, and supplies the best of tonics for nervous systems. And when breathing exercises are ordered at the same time, the easiest way to ensure their being carried out is to induce the patient to learn singing, which is the best and most agreeable form in which they can be applied.As to the stage of convalescence from any illness, any medical man will testify that people who have hobbies get well very much sooner than those who have not. And in this case, as in all those of people whose lives and movements are limited owing to some physical weakness, if they have no such pursuits to brighten their lives, the incessant worrying and brooding are very liable to result in neurasthenia, which is the half-way house to breakdowns.And for those of my readers who still retain the priceless gift of health, and wish to retain it, a hobby is better than all the riches in the world. It is independent of riches, too, for anyone can cultivate it, the poor as easily as the wealthy. More easily, in fact, for the more difficult a thing is to acquire the more we enjoy it when we have secured it. The man or woman who can fill their house with treasures of art and literature simply by signing a cheque rarely appreciate what they have got.Choice of a hobby.When making a start take up anything, it does not matter what. One hobby leads to another, and it leads to something else, which is one of the most potent aids to health. For no sooner has anyone begun a fresh pursuit thanthey meet with someone who is interested in the same subject. A hobby has been the means of the beginning of many a lifelong friendship. And a congenial friendship is the best remedy for the headaches and heartaches and soulaches with which lonely people are so often afflicted, to the detriment of their nervous systems.For those who wish to cultivate some hobby to act as an evening pastime, and give the mind its needed rest, it is important to choose one that is a contrast to their daily occupation. If they work with their brains all day, they should take up some pursuit that involves manual exercise. If they are working all day with their hands, they are better advised to fix on one that makes a call upon the mind, without much physical exertion. They may start a course of reading, for instance.Now reading implies either amusement or instruction, or the two combined, as in the case of history or travel. In these days both these subjects are presented in a form that is not only an education, but also a welcome relaxation to the tired brain. It is a relief sometimes to have our minds carried back to the ages, and realise that the troubles which beset us are just the same as those from which people have suffered right down through the centuries.We can have all the pleasures of travel without the disadvantages—gazing at the ruins of some Indian temple without being suffocated by the heat, or wandering in tropical forests without being bitten to death by mosquitoes and running the risk of malaria.Or if the eyes be too tired for reading, there arehosts of other pursuits which will render agreeable diversion to the mind. A husband and wife who spend their evenings, the one with music or some interesting hobby, and the other with her fancy work or French painting, are more likely to be “happy though married,” than if they sit in their chairs to a growling accompaniment of the day’s worries and a querulous account of the servants’ doings.Life without a hobby is like a dinner without salt; it may be inoffensive, but there is a sad lack of relish about it.

Games.

Recreation may be divided into games, reading and hobbies. Games occupy a useful part in daily life. Indoor ones form a pleasant way of passing the time, and helping to take the mind off work and everything else that tends to cause worry or fatigue.

Outdoor ones tempt people to fresh air and exercise, and thus constitute a valuable aid to health. And games of all sorts do one thing, they teach people to take a beating in good part. By games we mean of course the playing, not the watching of them. One game even badly played is worth fifty hours of looking on while others take part, even if they are experts and play vastly better than we could ever do.

Hobbies.

Yet games necessitate having someone to play with, and there are many times in our lives when we cannot have anyone else to take a part. That is the great advantage of hobbies, they can be enjoyed in solitude.

Not that we have any wish to drive people to solitude, for there is nothing worse than being alone too much. Solitary people are very apt to become too introspective, and that is always abad thing for their nervous systems. If people avoid the society of their fellow-men they acquire an undue sense of their own importance, and their own affairs loom too largely in their thoughts. Furthermore, they are liable to become depressed, and to develop that mixture of conceit and diffidence which is of all things most objectionable.

It is because solitude is inevitable that we are anxious to lay stress on those things which will effectually prevent that morbid introspection and make life brighter and happier. And hobbies fulfil both these requirements. There are thousands of people who are doomed to live in lodgings. They have no one at hand to join them in a game, and unless they have some congenial occupation wherewith to occupy their minds, life becomes a poor, dull affair.

Hobbies and home life.

It often happens, too, that those who have the privileges of family life have to depend on themselves for their own amusement at times. The other people in the house may be busy or disinclined to take part in any game. Besides that, games are apt to pall in time; you cannot carry them on indefinitely. Then it is that a hobby becomes a priceless boon. It does more than enliven solitude, it makes all the difference to home-life also.

A man returned home after a hard day at business, and after he had had his meal sat down and spent the evening gazing with a bored, tired countenance into the fire, a cheerful spectacle for his poor wife, who had also had a worrying day,and would have been glad of a little brightness. The boys and girls had even to be sent out of the room, as their talking made father’s head ache.

As he sat there his one thought was of his work. It was all he had to think about, for he had never cultivated any pursuits or broadened his interests in any way. And running the mind in one groove is, like singing on one note, a tiring occupation. That man was always tired, body and soul. Of late, too, he had had another worry, for he had found himself becoming more nervous and irritable, and with less confidence in his own powers. The dread had come upon him that he was going to break down. And as he thought of his wife and family, who would be left insufficiently provided for, it nearly broke his heart.

Twelve months later if you had gone to that same house you would have seen the table littered with prints and negatives. Blessed be untidiness, of that sort at any rate; it generally means, like the dirt on a boy’s face, that someone is happy. There were no tired looks now, and no sending the young people out of the room. Instead, everyone was cheerful, everyone talking at once, and as for father, you would not have known him. Even the children did not know what was coming over him, he was getting so jolly. His friends, too, and he had more of them of late than he used to have, were glad to meet him, instead of fighting shy of him as an old bore like they used to do.

The secret of it all was that he had been to a lecture on birds, and the lecturer had describedthe fascination of photographing them in their haunts. He had taken it up, and the result was that he had seen more than birds, for his eyes had been opened to all the beauties of Nature, and he had found the world a very pleasant place to live in after all. The fresh air and exercise which he had enjoyed whilst following his new bent had banished his dyspepsia, his headaches had disappeared, and he had forgotten all about the palpitation and vague pains and discomforts that used to worry the life out of him.

His nervous system had taken a new lease of life. He had lost all his dreads and forebodings, and had regained his old confidence in business matters. The old wearing monotony of life had gone, and his brain was alive and keen with varied interests, for no hobby comes alone, it invariably brings its friends along with it. And the more the merrier.

This welcome change in his manner of spending his evenings, the change from wearisome brooding to congenial pastime, had given to his mind the repose it had stood so badly in need of, and for want of which it had been slowly but surely drifting towards a breakdown. For the latter is due, as we have already seen, to a gradual disorganisation of the various functions of the body undermining the nervous system. And a hobby such as this, combining indoor and outdoor pursuits, does more than relieve the tedium of a tired brain, it invigorates every organ and tissue in the body.

Hobbies in the treatment of breakdowns.

And they not only act as a direct preventive ofbreakdowns themselves, but they are an invaluable aid to other forms of treatment. If a lethargic person is ordered to take exercise, it is a constant difficulty to keep him up to it, unless he has some other inducement. Get him to take up some outdoor pursuit, such as gardening or natural history in one or other of its multifarious phases, and he will have exercise in abundance without knowing that he is taking it. Numbers of men would be vastly better in health, too, if they had more exercise after reaching home, especially on winter evenings, instead of sitting by the fire until bedtime. If told to take up physical drill, they may go on with it for a time, but will almost certainly get tired of these duty exercises after a while. Persuade them to take up wood carving or carpentry, and they will get all that they need and a large measure of enjoyment at the same time.

Many a case of gout, dyspepsia, sluggish liver and such-like ailments in stout, plethoric persons can be cured by this means more effectually than by any other.

Or it may be that patients are ordered rest, because of some overstrain, or a weakness in some particular organ, as the lungs or heart. It is difficult enough to secure this rest in the case of a woman, but in that of a man it is wellnigh impossible. There is no more restless being than a man who is either confined to the house or unable to walk far. He gets tired of reading and playing “Patience,” and the result is that in mostinstances he moons about aimlessly, a nuisance to himself and to those around him. Once let him take up some hobby which will interest him, and the case becomes entirely different. He can take his camera and photograph places or people, near at hand or farther away according to his powers of walking, and can find ample occupation in the evenings or on wet days, developing, printing and arranging the pictures he has taken.

Or he can take his specimen case and spend whole days quietly hunting for wild flowers, birds’ eggs, or anything else he is inclined for, and obtain a vast amount of pleasure afterwards in setting out his treasures. Or he can do a bit of gardening, heavy or light according to his capabilities, and if he has a greenhouse he can fill up his time profitably when the state of the weather does not permit of outside work.

Hobbies have ceased to be regarded simply as a means of putting in time, and have come to occupy an important part in medical treatment. Consumptive sanatoria, for instance, present a very different appearance now from what they did some years ago. At that time the visitor was met with the pitiable spectacle of a melancholy array of dispirited patients, lying about in all stages of dejection. Now he sees men and women engaged in gardening and other outdoor pursuits, looking as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves, which is just what theyaredoing.

The same benefit from such pursuits is found in all cases where fresh air is required, as in anæmia, neurasthenia, etc. An outdoor hobbysecures the fresh air, and supplies the best of tonics for nervous systems. And when breathing exercises are ordered at the same time, the easiest way to ensure their being carried out is to induce the patient to learn singing, which is the best and most agreeable form in which they can be applied.

As to the stage of convalescence from any illness, any medical man will testify that people who have hobbies get well very much sooner than those who have not. And in this case, as in all those of people whose lives and movements are limited owing to some physical weakness, if they have no such pursuits to brighten their lives, the incessant worrying and brooding are very liable to result in neurasthenia, which is the half-way house to breakdowns.

And for those of my readers who still retain the priceless gift of health, and wish to retain it, a hobby is better than all the riches in the world. It is independent of riches, too, for anyone can cultivate it, the poor as easily as the wealthy. More easily, in fact, for the more difficult a thing is to acquire the more we enjoy it when we have secured it. The man or woman who can fill their house with treasures of art and literature simply by signing a cheque rarely appreciate what they have got.

Choice of a hobby.

When making a start take up anything, it does not matter what. One hobby leads to another, and it leads to something else, which is one of the most potent aids to health. For no sooner has anyone begun a fresh pursuit thanthey meet with someone who is interested in the same subject. A hobby has been the means of the beginning of many a lifelong friendship. And a congenial friendship is the best remedy for the headaches and heartaches and soulaches with which lonely people are so often afflicted, to the detriment of their nervous systems.

For those who wish to cultivate some hobby to act as an evening pastime, and give the mind its needed rest, it is important to choose one that is a contrast to their daily occupation. If they work with their brains all day, they should take up some pursuit that involves manual exercise. If they are working all day with their hands, they are better advised to fix on one that makes a call upon the mind, without much physical exertion. They may start a course of reading, for instance.

Now reading implies either amusement or instruction, or the two combined, as in the case of history or travel. In these days both these subjects are presented in a form that is not only an education, but also a welcome relaxation to the tired brain. It is a relief sometimes to have our minds carried back to the ages, and realise that the troubles which beset us are just the same as those from which people have suffered right down through the centuries.

We can have all the pleasures of travel without the disadvantages—gazing at the ruins of some Indian temple without being suffocated by the heat, or wandering in tropical forests without being bitten to death by mosquitoes and running the risk of malaria.

Or if the eyes be too tired for reading, there arehosts of other pursuits which will render agreeable diversion to the mind. A husband and wife who spend their evenings, the one with music or some interesting hobby, and the other with her fancy work or French painting, are more likely to be “happy though married,” than if they sit in their chairs to a growling accompaniment of the day’s worries and a querulous account of the servants’ doings.

Life without a hobby is like a dinner without salt; it may be inoffensive, but there is a sad lack of relish about it.

CHAPTERXVIII.WORK.Work is the natural heritage of mankind. “Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening.” He does so in order to get the means of livelihood. Yet even those who inherit sufficient to make them independent must work also. They may not have to work in order to live, but they must of a certainty work in order to live healthily.Necessity for work.A certain statesman, well endowed with this world’s goods, has been known to say that even when he is out of office and on a holiday, he finds it necessary to his personal comfort to study hard for at least two or three hours each day, otherwise his nerves and his heart begin to trouble him. And while making due allowance for patriotism and sense of duty, there is no doubt that many men who do not need to work for a living take up work of some sort or other, politics, the army, or whatever else takes their fancy, because they feel vastly better for having something definite to do.Work as mental exercise.Work affords systematic exercise for the mind, and a mind to be healthy needs exercise as much as the body does. Why is it, then, that if work is indispensable to our bodily welfare from a health point of view we all look forward so eagerly to the time when we can retire andleave it behind us? Yet that seems to be the goal towards which we are most of us striving. And it is an aimless one, unless a man has some pursuit by means of which he can use and enjoy his years of leisure, some absorbing hobby or public work of one sort or other. It is the man who has applied himself so closely to his business or profession as to have deadened his interest in other matters, who finds retirement such a deadly dull affair.How to work and be healthy.It is often said that a man does his best work before he is forty. The cry is for young men in every branch of employment, and those who have reached middle age stand a poor chance if they are so unfortunate as to lose their situations. Yet their experience ought to make them more useful and indispensable than at any previous stage in their career. A man of fifty-five complained to me some years ago that he was being put on the shelf on account of his age. “Yet I am better fitted to do my work than I have ever been,” he said.It is quite true that he was better fitted for it from the point of view of experience and judgment. Yet he was a confirmed dyspeptic, and was always taking cold, necessitating frequent absences from his work, which was a responsible one. And it is just on this very account that there is a demand for younger and stronger men to-day. Employers prefer a man who is warranted to turn up when he is wanted, rather than a more experienced one who is liable to be at home indisposed at thevery time when his services are most urgently needed. They say quite rightly, “We cannot afford to have a man who is in danger of breaking down.”Most of the breakdowns that we meet with are put down to work or overwork. It is, therefore, looking at the matter from the personal point of view, a burning question as to how work can be carried out without bringing in its train this much-dreaded climax. In other words, “How to work and be healthy.”It is folly to go blindly on, as so many do, hoping for the best, and taking no steps to make sure of it. It is not work, but the conditions under which it is done, that accounts for the loss of health which so often accompanies it. And much of this loss, and most of the breakdowns which occur as a result of it, may be avoided by a careful, practical study of the whole question.We need to look at it from three points: before, during, and after work.Before work.If a man lies in bed until the last minute dresses in a hurry, perhaps cutting his chin while shaving and losing his shirt stud, bolts down his breakfast in the fewest possible minutes, and then runs to catch his tram or train, it is not to be wondered at if he returns home in the evening thoroughly fagged out. He has started the day by breaking nearly every rule of health in the course of about three-quarters of an hour, and is surprised and worried because he findsthat his work takes such a lot out of him. Yet next morning he begins by doing the very same thing over again.Then he sighs for the time when he will be able to rest on his oars and take life easily, leaving “the beastly business” behind him. And so long as he goes on in the way he is doing, he will sigh for it in vain. He may feel thankful if he is able to go on with his work, and does not find himself laid on one side, broken down in health and spirits.Try an experiment, some of you who see yourselves in the picture I have just drawn. Get up in good time, and that means going to bed in good time also the night before. Dress and take your breakfast in a leisurely manner, and then either go for a turn in the garden or farther afield if you like, or else have a quiet rest by the fireside, if the weather is inclement. Give yourself plenty of time to get to your place of business, and at the end of the day you will be in a position to decide as to whether it was your work or your way of starting the day which was to blame.Of one thing we have little doubt. Even if you do not feel as well as you might do when you reach home again, you will feel better than you have done for a long time past. But not so well as you may do before long. For there are different ways of going about your work, as well as of preparing for it and getting there.During work. Hygiene.It is astonishing how many people there arewho are careful as to ventilation and such-like matters in their own homes, but will put up with all sorts of hygienic defects in their offices. They will sit with their heads or their feet in cold draughts in the winter time and in baking hot rooms in the summer. A strip of wood under the door, or a curtain over it, the removal of a desk to a more convenient position, or the fixing of a sunblind, as the case may be, would make all the difference in the world to their comfort and health. Yet they put up with these inconveniences, and go on taking colds and headaches, just because it is an office or a place of business and not a private house.Noises.Noises in the street outside are a frequent cause of tiredness. Through long custom people fail to hear them, and become unaware of their existence, but the consequent nervous tension is there all the same. No expenditure in the shape of mechanical contrivances, even if it necessitates some re-building, is too great if it can mitigate this constant source of irritation to the nervous system.Telephone.As to the telephone, we are almost afraid to mention it, simply because we have no remedy to suggest. There is no doubt that it has increased the stress and strain of work considerably, not merely by forcing the pace, but also by its direct effect on the nerves of the head.We are only able to offer one piece of advice, and that, we fear, a poor one. It is this. Donot lose your temper if it is not working properly. It may be a source of satisfaction to tell the operator at the Exchange exactly what you think of him and the system in general, but invective is like a boomerang, it often does more damage to the thrower than to anyone else.Bad light.One of the common causes of strain is the habit of writing in a bad light, or with the eyes facing the light. Nothing causes the brain more discomfort than a constant glare of light on the face, or trying to read or write in a poor light. And there is no need for it. It must be a poor sort of office where the window, or artificial means of lighting, cannot be so arranged as to illuminate the paper without causing any strain on the eyesight.Whether headaches be due to this or any other cause, they should never be neglected, especially if they are liable to come on while at work. For repeated headaches, even though they may be but slight, have a wearing effect on the brain and other parts of the nervous system. They may be due to most trivial causes in some cases, which is all the more pity why they should be allowed to persist. A man who was at the head of a large firm once consulted a doctor because he found that his work took it out of him more than before. The medical man noticed that the patient was slightly deaf, though the latter did not seem to be aware of the fact. On examination, the ears were found to be blocked with wax, the removal of which restored the man to his usual state of health and vigour. It had been simplythe strain of trying to hear what was being said which had produced a constant sense of fatigue.Midday rest.There is one custom which in these busy times tends to be dying out. It is that of the midday meal rest, the old-fashioned forty winks. “There is no time for it now,” people say. But there is time for everything, if we choose to make it. The head of one of the largest firms in this country used to insist on this rest, no matter how urgent the matters might be that needed his attention. He kept a couch in his private office, and each day, as soon as he had had his lunch, he locked the door, and for twenty minutes took a comfortable rest and snooze. And woe betide anyone who disturbed him. It was to this custom that he attributed the fact that he had retained his faculties and vigour to an age at which most of his confrères were dead or broken down.Some may prefer to have a walk in the fresh air, and if their occupation is a sedentary one and they have been cooped up in an office all the morning, it will probably suit them better than lying down.Intervals between meals.It is not uncommon to find cases in which there is over-fatigue because the intervals between the meals is too long, apart from any circumstances which interfere with them. A man gets his breakfast at eight o’clock and his lunch at half-past one it may be. He objects to eating between meals, so takes nothing for the whole of that time. Now this for mostpeople is too long; the system becomes exhausted, and has to do its work without proper nourishment. This means that it has to draw upon the reserve forces, and while this may be done now and then, it cannot be repeated often without depleting them. Many people would find the greatest benefit from a little light refreshment in the course of the morning. They do not need much: a cup of coffee or soup, or a glass of milk and a biscuit, are quite sufficient to keep them going until the luncheon hour.For the same reason a cup of tea with bread and butter or cake about four o’clock or thereabouts is an excellent thing. And like the morning snack, it provides more than nourishment, for it necessitates a break and a breath of fresh air, which invigorate the nervous system, and often enable a man to reach home fresh and well, when otherwise he would get there jaded and tired.Nature of work.Sometimes it is the nature of the work which imposes a special strain. Great responsibilities and grave issues may have to be met, as in the case of contractors, stockbrokers, etc. An enormous degree of nervous tension may have to be concentrated into a few minutes. There is no escaping from it, we know. Yet the man who has consistently looked after his health, not only in the mornings before setting out but at all other times, is in a much more satisfactory state to deal with such emergencies and to bear the strain of them.Working against time.Often it is working against time which does theharm. Sometimes this rush cannot be helped. The journalist, for instance, must have his news or his leader ready by a certain hour. The newspaper, like time and tide, cannot wait. Yet at other times itcanbe helped. A man finds that if he goes on for another hour, instead of going to his lunch or dinner at the proper time, he can finish what there is to do. He may finish his work, to be sure. Often he finishes himself at the same time. It would be to his advantage in the long run, if he left the work and had his meal, and returned to complete his duties afterwards.This interference with meal-times is a fruitful source of nervous exhaustion and breakdown. The system is deprived of nourishment just when it is most in need of it. Every meal postponed under such circumstances brings the hour of retribution nearer.Mental effect of hurry.Apart from interference with meals, working against time has a bad effect of its own. It is like running for a train. A man who could cover the same distance in the same time without any effort if there was no train to catch will arrive at the station breathless. The anxiety of getting there in time has caused a mental disturbance, which has affected the heart on its own account. In the same way there are cases of nervous exhaustion and loss of health due entirely to the habit of rushing at correspondence in order to get it off by a certain post. It may have to be done, but the man would bebetter off in the end if he lost the business rather than acquire it at the expense of his health.Public work.There is a peculiar strain connected with work which demands appearing before the public. It is pitiable to reflect how many artistes, actors, musicians, and others break down in their efforts to give pleasure and diversion to the tired minds of others.The reason lies in the fact of their having to do a certain thing at a certain time, and to do it with an audience. They must give their performance and maintain their highest standard of excellence, when perchance their heads are aching, or they have got a bad cold and are only fit to be in bed. They must be up to time, or they may find their place occupied by another.For similar reasons the parson is always vastly more liable to breakdowns than the lawyer or doctor. He may get up feeling tired or ill on Sunday morning, but, except at the risk of causing great inconvenience to others, he must put in an appearance in the pulpit.Yet there is another consideration which enters even more largely into the question. It is that these public appearances often interfere with meal-times and sleep. A performance or a meeting in the evening necessitates a delayed supper and late hours of retiring to rest. The nervous system is at the same time worked up into an excited condition, so that it has its rest and nourishment cut off just when it stands most in need of both.Much of this may, however, be avoided byjudicious care. There have been speakers, artistes and other public characters who have been able to continue in harness up to an advanced age. They have achieved this simply by strict attention to the needs of the body. They would fortify themselves with a good meal beforehand; whatever else happened, they would not allow that function to be interfered with. If they could not get food before leaving home, they would arrange for it to be ready for them at the rendezvous. On arriving home again, they would give their nervous systems the best chance by taking a meal and then having a quiet read, with a smoke if they were so inclined, afterwards going to bed as soon as was compatible with their digestions.Many of these may seem trivial details, yet it is the little things of life which amount to so much; and if these precautions are observed, there are many weary workers in all ranks of life who will find that labour loses much of its drudgery. If everyone were to carry them out, we should see fewer haggard faces and tired eyes than we do at present. One has only to travel in any suburban train to find out how many people there are who go home each evening weary and done up. This is not what life was meant to be. Honest fatigue there will always be, but no one objects to that. It is the jaded despondency on the faces of so many people at the close of their day’s work that is contrary to all principles of humanity. It is one thing to be tired; it is a different thing to reach home more dead than alive, and ready to drop.If people would take more care in preparingthemselves for their daily duties, and in improving their conditions of work, both for themselves and their employees, we should hear very much less of breakdowns than we do at present.After work.The way in which people spend their spare time in the evenings is of the greatest importance. It is their opportunity for repairing the wear and tear of the day’s work, and of fitting themselves to stand the brunt of that which is to come. The manner in which they spend it depends largely on the nature of the day’s proceedings.Exercise or rest.If a man has been sitting at a desk all day, he will be all the better for a walk on returning home. It will give him a chance of fresh air, and the exercise will do his cramped legs good. If, however, he is tired in body as well as mind, a rest is what he needs. A man was once suffering in health, and always feeling done up. He rarely had an appetite for his dinner in the evening. It was all due to one thing. He was in the habit of going for an hour’s hard walk each evening after returning from business. He did it with the best of motives, being impressed with the value of exercise. He overlooked the fact that he had had as much exercise as he could stand already, as his work not only threw a strain on his thinking powers, but also involved a constant amount of standing or walking throughout the day. When he stopped taking this duty walk—for such it was, it gave him no pleasure, as he was too tired to enjoy it—his health improved by leaps and bounds.There are many such persons who would feelvastly better, and have better appetites and digestions, if they took a rest on reaching home, instead of rushing off to golf or for a walk. It would refresh them as much as exercise braces up those who have had too little of it during the day.Amusements.As to the recreations with which people seek to restore their lost energies, that too must vary according to the nature of their daily avocation. Chess is a splendid game, there is no doubt. Yet anyone who has had a mental strain all day had better choose something that demands less call on their thinking powers. Under such circumstances we confess to a preference for something of a lighter or more frivolous nature. Anyhow, in whatever way people choose to spend their evenings let it be achange, for in that way alone can rest be obtained. The brain worker had better select fiction or some such light form of literature if he is disposed for reading. But there are thousands of people whose work is cut and dried, and does not involve any mental strain, who would improve both their minds and their sense of well-being by taking up some reading or hobby which demands a certain amount of application and study.The great point after all is to do something, anything rather than nothing. Not that they can do nothing if they try, for it is an impossible feat, as we all know. Yet the trying to do it is the greatest effort a man can make, and tires him out more rapidly than anything else.

Work is the natural heritage of mankind. “Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening.” He does so in order to get the means of livelihood. Yet even those who inherit sufficient to make them independent must work also. They may not have to work in order to live, but they must of a certainty work in order to live healthily.

Necessity for work.

A certain statesman, well endowed with this world’s goods, has been known to say that even when he is out of office and on a holiday, he finds it necessary to his personal comfort to study hard for at least two or three hours each day, otherwise his nerves and his heart begin to trouble him. And while making due allowance for patriotism and sense of duty, there is no doubt that many men who do not need to work for a living take up work of some sort or other, politics, the army, or whatever else takes their fancy, because they feel vastly better for having something definite to do.

Work as mental exercise.

Work affords systematic exercise for the mind, and a mind to be healthy needs exercise as much as the body does. Why is it, then, that if work is indispensable to our bodily welfare from a health point of view we all look forward so eagerly to the time when we can retire andleave it behind us? Yet that seems to be the goal towards which we are most of us striving. And it is an aimless one, unless a man has some pursuit by means of which he can use and enjoy his years of leisure, some absorbing hobby or public work of one sort or other. It is the man who has applied himself so closely to his business or profession as to have deadened his interest in other matters, who finds retirement such a deadly dull affair.

How to work and be healthy.

It is often said that a man does his best work before he is forty. The cry is for young men in every branch of employment, and those who have reached middle age stand a poor chance if they are so unfortunate as to lose their situations. Yet their experience ought to make them more useful and indispensable than at any previous stage in their career. A man of fifty-five complained to me some years ago that he was being put on the shelf on account of his age. “Yet I am better fitted to do my work than I have ever been,” he said.

It is quite true that he was better fitted for it from the point of view of experience and judgment. Yet he was a confirmed dyspeptic, and was always taking cold, necessitating frequent absences from his work, which was a responsible one. And it is just on this very account that there is a demand for younger and stronger men to-day. Employers prefer a man who is warranted to turn up when he is wanted, rather than a more experienced one who is liable to be at home indisposed at thevery time when his services are most urgently needed. They say quite rightly, “We cannot afford to have a man who is in danger of breaking down.”

Most of the breakdowns that we meet with are put down to work or overwork. It is, therefore, looking at the matter from the personal point of view, a burning question as to how work can be carried out without bringing in its train this much-dreaded climax. In other words, “How to work and be healthy.”

It is folly to go blindly on, as so many do, hoping for the best, and taking no steps to make sure of it. It is not work, but the conditions under which it is done, that accounts for the loss of health which so often accompanies it. And much of this loss, and most of the breakdowns which occur as a result of it, may be avoided by a careful, practical study of the whole question.

We need to look at it from three points: before, during, and after work.

Before work.

If a man lies in bed until the last minute dresses in a hurry, perhaps cutting his chin while shaving and losing his shirt stud, bolts down his breakfast in the fewest possible minutes, and then runs to catch his tram or train, it is not to be wondered at if he returns home in the evening thoroughly fagged out. He has started the day by breaking nearly every rule of health in the course of about three-quarters of an hour, and is surprised and worried because he findsthat his work takes such a lot out of him. Yet next morning he begins by doing the very same thing over again.

Then he sighs for the time when he will be able to rest on his oars and take life easily, leaving “the beastly business” behind him. And so long as he goes on in the way he is doing, he will sigh for it in vain. He may feel thankful if he is able to go on with his work, and does not find himself laid on one side, broken down in health and spirits.

Try an experiment, some of you who see yourselves in the picture I have just drawn. Get up in good time, and that means going to bed in good time also the night before. Dress and take your breakfast in a leisurely manner, and then either go for a turn in the garden or farther afield if you like, or else have a quiet rest by the fireside, if the weather is inclement. Give yourself plenty of time to get to your place of business, and at the end of the day you will be in a position to decide as to whether it was your work or your way of starting the day which was to blame.

Of one thing we have little doubt. Even if you do not feel as well as you might do when you reach home again, you will feel better than you have done for a long time past. But not so well as you may do before long. For there are different ways of going about your work, as well as of preparing for it and getting there.

During work. Hygiene.

It is astonishing how many people there arewho are careful as to ventilation and such-like matters in their own homes, but will put up with all sorts of hygienic defects in their offices. They will sit with their heads or their feet in cold draughts in the winter time and in baking hot rooms in the summer. A strip of wood under the door, or a curtain over it, the removal of a desk to a more convenient position, or the fixing of a sunblind, as the case may be, would make all the difference in the world to their comfort and health. Yet they put up with these inconveniences, and go on taking colds and headaches, just because it is an office or a place of business and not a private house.

Noises.

Noises in the street outside are a frequent cause of tiredness. Through long custom people fail to hear them, and become unaware of their existence, but the consequent nervous tension is there all the same. No expenditure in the shape of mechanical contrivances, even if it necessitates some re-building, is too great if it can mitigate this constant source of irritation to the nervous system.

Telephone.

As to the telephone, we are almost afraid to mention it, simply because we have no remedy to suggest. There is no doubt that it has increased the stress and strain of work considerably, not merely by forcing the pace, but also by its direct effect on the nerves of the head.

We are only able to offer one piece of advice, and that, we fear, a poor one. It is this. Donot lose your temper if it is not working properly. It may be a source of satisfaction to tell the operator at the Exchange exactly what you think of him and the system in general, but invective is like a boomerang, it often does more damage to the thrower than to anyone else.

Bad light.

One of the common causes of strain is the habit of writing in a bad light, or with the eyes facing the light. Nothing causes the brain more discomfort than a constant glare of light on the face, or trying to read or write in a poor light. And there is no need for it. It must be a poor sort of office where the window, or artificial means of lighting, cannot be so arranged as to illuminate the paper without causing any strain on the eyesight.

Whether headaches be due to this or any other cause, they should never be neglected, especially if they are liable to come on while at work. For repeated headaches, even though they may be but slight, have a wearing effect on the brain and other parts of the nervous system. They may be due to most trivial causes in some cases, which is all the more pity why they should be allowed to persist. A man who was at the head of a large firm once consulted a doctor because he found that his work took it out of him more than before. The medical man noticed that the patient was slightly deaf, though the latter did not seem to be aware of the fact. On examination, the ears were found to be blocked with wax, the removal of which restored the man to his usual state of health and vigour. It had been simplythe strain of trying to hear what was being said which had produced a constant sense of fatigue.

Midday rest.

There is one custom which in these busy times tends to be dying out. It is that of the midday meal rest, the old-fashioned forty winks. “There is no time for it now,” people say. But there is time for everything, if we choose to make it. The head of one of the largest firms in this country used to insist on this rest, no matter how urgent the matters might be that needed his attention. He kept a couch in his private office, and each day, as soon as he had had his lunch, he locked the door, and for twenty minutes took a comfortable rest and snooze. And woe betide anyone who disturbed him. It was to this custom that he attributed the fact that he had retained his faculties and vigour to an age at which most of his confrères were dead or broken down.

Some may prefer to have a walk in the fresh air, and if their occupation is a sedentary one and they have been cooped up in an office all the morning, it will probably suit them better than lying down.

Intervals between meals.

It is not uncommon to find cases in which there is over-fatigue because the intervals between the meals is too long, apart from any circumstances which interfere with them. A man gets his breakfast at eight o’clock and his lunch at half-past one it may be. He objects to eating between meals, so takes nothing for the whole of that time. Now this for mostpeople is too long; the system becomes exhausted, and has to do its work without proper nourishment. This means that it has to draw upon the reserve forces, and while this may be done now and then, it cannot be repeated often without depleting them. Many people would find the greatest benefit from a little light refreshment in the course of the morning. They do not need much: a cup of coffee or soup, or a glass of milk and a biscuit, are quite sufficient to keep them going until the luncheon hour.

For the same reason a cup of tea with bread and butter or cake about four o’clock or thereabouts is an excellent thing. And like the morning snack, it provides more than nourishment, for it necessitates a break and a breath of fresh air, which invigorate the nervous system, and often enable a man to reach home fresh and well, when otherwise he would get there jaded and tired.

Nature of work.

Sometimes it is the nature of the work which imposes a special strain. Great responsibilities and grave issues may have to be met, as in the case of contractors, stockbrokers, etc. An enormous degree of nervous tension may have to be concentrated into a few minutes. There is no escaping from it, we know. Yet the man who has consistently looked after his health, not only in the mornings before setting out but at all other times, is in a much more satisfactory state to deal with such emergencies and to bear the strain of them.

Working against time.

Often it is working against time which does theharm. Sometimes this rush cannot be helped. The journalist, for instance, must have his news or his leader ready by a certain hour. The newspaper, like time and tide, cannot wait. Yet at other times itcanbe helped. A man finds that if he goes on for another hour, instead of going to his lunch or dinner at the proper time, he can finish what there is to do. He may finish his work, to be sure. Often he finishes himself at the same time. It would be to his advantage in the long run, if he left the work and had his meal, and returned to complete his duties afterwards.

This interference with meal-times is a fruitful source of nervous exhaustion and breakdown. The system is deprived of nourishment just when it is most in need of it. Every meal postponed under such circumstances brings the hour of retribution nearer.

Mental effect of hurry.

Apart from interference with meals, working against time has a bad effect of its own. It is like running for a train. A man who could cover the same distance in the same time without any effort if there was no train to catch will arrive at the station breathless. The anxiety of getting there in time has caused a mental disturbance, which has affected the heart on its own account. In the same way there are cases of nervous exhaustion and loss of health due entirely to the habit of rushing at correspondence in order to get it off by a certain post. It may have to be done, but the man would bebetter off in the end if he lost the business rather than acquire it at the expense of his health.

Public work.

There is a peculiar strain connected with work which demands appearing before the public. It is pitiable to reflect how many artistes, actors, musicians, and others break down in their efforts to give pleasure and diversion to the tired minds of others.

The reason lies in the fact of their having to do a certain thing at a certain time, and to do it with an audience. They must give their performance and maintain their highest standard of excellence, when perchance their heads are aching, or they have got a bad cold and are only fit to be in bed. They must be up to time, or they may find their place occupied by another.

For similar reasons the parson is always vastly more liable to breakdowns than the lawyer or doctor. He may get up feeling tired or ill on Sunday morning, but, except at the risk of causing great inconvenience to others, he must put in an appearance in the pulpit.

Yet there is another consideration which enters even more largely into the question. It is that these public appearances often interfere with meal-times and sleep. A performance or a meeting in the evening necessitates a delayed supper and late hours of retiring to rest. The nervous system is at the same time worked up into an excited condition, so that it has its rest and nourishment cut off just when it stands most in need of both.

Much of this may, however, be avoided byjudicious care. There have been speakers, artistes and other public characters who have been able to continue in harness up to an advanced age. They have achieved this simply by strict attention to the needs of the body. They would fortify themselves with a good meal beforehand; whatever else happened, they would not allow that function to be interfered with. If they could not get food before leaving home, they would arrange for it to be ready for them at the rendezvous. On arriving home again, they would give their nervous systems the best chance by taking a meal and then having a quiet read, with a smoke if they were so inclined, afterwards going to bed as soon as was compatible with their digestions.

Many of these may seem trivial details, yet it is the little things of life which amount to so much; and if these precautions are observed, there are many weary workers in all ranks of life who will find that labour loses much of its drudgery. If everyone were to carry them out, we should see fewer haggard faces and tired eyes than we do at present. One has only to travel in any suburban train to find out how many people there are who go home each evening weary and done up. This is not what life was meant to be. Honest fatigue there will always be, but no one objects to that. It is the jaded despondency on the faces of so many people at the close of their day’s work that is contrary to all principles of humanity. It is one thing to be tired; it is a different thing to reach home more dead than alive, and ready to drop.

If people would take more care in preparingthemselves for their daily duties, and in improving their conditions of work, both for themselves and their employees, we should hear very much less of breakdowns than we do at present.

After work.

The way in which people spend their spare time in the evenings is of the greatest importance. It is their opportunity for repairing the wear and tear of the day’s work, and of fitting themselves to stand the brunt of that which is to come. The manner in which they spend it depends largely on the nature of the day’s proceedings.

Exercise or rest.

If a man has been sitting at a desk all day, he will be all the better for a walk on returning home. It will give him a chance of fresh air, and the exercise will do his cramped legs good. If, however, he is tired in body as well as mind, a rest is what he needs. A man was once suffering in health, and always feeling done up. He rarely had an appetite for his dinner in the evening. It was all due to one thing. He was in the habit of going for an hour’s hard walk each evening after returning from business. He did it with the best of motives, being impressed with the value of exercise. He overlooked the fact that he had had as much exercise as he could stand already, as his work not only threw a strain on his thinking powers, but also involved a constant amount of standing or walking throughout the day. When he stopped taking this duty walk—for such it was, it gave him no pleasure, as he was too tired to enjoy it—his health improved by leaps and bounds.

There are many such persons who would feelvastly better, and have better appetites and digestions, if they took a rest on reaching home, instead of rushing off to golf or for a walk. It would refresh them as much as exercise braces up those who have had too little of it during the day.

Amusements.

As to the recreations with which people seek to restore their lost energies, that too must vary according to the nature of their daily avocation. Chess is a splendid game, there is no doubt. Yet anyone who has had a mental strain all day had better choose something that demands less call on their thinking powers. Under such circumstances we confess to a preference for something of a lighter or more frivolous nature. Anyhow, in whatever way people choose to spend their evenings let it be achange, for in that way alone can rest be obtained. The brain worker had better select fiction or some such light form of literature if he is disposed for reading. But there are thousands of people whose work is cut and dried, and does not involve any mental strain, who would improve both their minds and their sense of well-being by taking up some reading or hobby which demands a certain amount of application and study.

The great point after all is to do something, anything rather than nothing. Not that they can do nothing if they try, for it is an impossible feat, as we all know. Yet the trying to do it is the greatest effort a man can make, and tires him out more rapidly than anything else.

CHAPTERXIX.WORRY.It is a true saying that worry, not work, kills. People can get through an amazing amount of work if they do it in a quiet and methodical manner.One morning two men were walking along a road in the direction of a railway station. One of them was going at a steady pace, with a look of contentment about him, as if he were enjoying the walk. The other was hurrying along with quick, nervous steps, occasionally looking at his watch and breaking into a short run, while his strained expression and panting breath formed a marked contrast to the easy deportment of his friend.They both caught the train, but while one was cool and collected and felt invigorated for his work when he reached the terminus, the other was hot and flurried, and this gave him a bad start for the day. Moreover, each of them transacted his business in much the same way as he had walked to the station, one doing it quietly and methodically, while the other spent his time in rushing from one thing to another, taking his lunch in the fewest possible minutes, and constantly worrying himself and everyone else into the bargain.The singular part of it was that the quiet, steady-going man got through more work in theday than his friend did, and years later, when they had reached middle age, was as fit as ever for his business, whereas the other man was broken down by overwork, as he called it.In the last chapter we considered the question of physical and mental fatigue resulting from work. We purposely omitted the element of worry, which does more harm than all the other conditions of work put together. For worry does more than tire the mind—it demoralises it.In a certain war two companies of men had to march an equal distance in order to meet at a particular spot. The one arrived in perfect order, and with few signs of exhaustion, although the march had been an arduous one. The other company reached the place utterly done up and disorganised. It was all a question of leadership: the captain of the first company had known his way and kept his men in good order, while the captain of the second company had never been sure of himself, and had harassed his subordinates with a constant succession of orders and counter-orders, until they had hardly known whether they were on their heads or their heels. That was why they arrived looking completely demoralised.Worry and the mind.Now worry has precisely the same effect on the mind as a bad leader has upon his men. For the mind is not a vague mystery “somewhere inside the head,” as it is generally supposed to be. The brain is a matter of tissue and blood, the same as any other partof the body. We may not know quite so much about it, but that does not affect the question. The workings of the mind are as definite and practical as the movements of the fingers. The brain cells have, stretching out from them, a number of minute filaments. We know that the tips of these filaments move about and touch their neighbours. And according to the manner in which they move, different trains of thought are set up. The intricate network is constantly changing its form, as the filaments link up together various parts of the brain tissue.It is, in fact, the counterpart of a telephone system, which has wires and exchanges and call offices extending all over the country. From these offices telephone callers are put into communication with each other, and there is a never-ending linking-up and switching-off taking place, and the harmony of the systems depends on the efficiency of the operators. Fill one of the exchanges with a lot of fussy, ill-trained people, who would lose their heads, and the whole system would be disorganised in a very short time.Each man possesses his own telephone system inside his head, and the working of it depends entirely on himself. If he fidgets and fumes and gets excited over what he is doing, he worries the brain filaments until they begin to act all ways except the right one. And not only do they fail to carry out their purpose, but the bother and flurry through which they pass tire them out as no amount of steady work could ever do. Like the men of the second company, theyget to the end of their day’s work fagged and exhausted.If this goes on long, for days and months and years in succession, the strain becomes too great, and they either refuse to work at all or they get completely out of hand. And, whichever they do, it means that the man who owns them suffers from a breakdown. And it was the worry, not the work, which caused it.Some people have a born knack of worrying. The mental agony through which they pass when taking a railway journey is almost incredible. They worry as to whether they will get to the station in time, and if their luggage will arrive safely at its destination, and a hundred other things as well.We once heard a lady say—almost boastfully, she seemed proud of the fact—that she never slept a wink all night if she was a penny out in her household accounts. She did not say what happened if she was a halfpenny out. We can only presume, therefore, that in that case she slept for half the night.With worries of this sort we have no sympathy. They can be overcome by an effort of will, and those who give way to them had better realise that they are not only bothering the people around them, but endangering their own nervous systems as well. For worry leads to worry. A mind that is addicted to them will always tend to distort things, making mountains out of molehills. Objects invariably loom larger in a fog.And of all troubles in this life there are none sohard to bear as imaginary ones. Many of us prefer to meet a burglar rather than a ghost. The troubles we dread rarely come. Yet the strain of thinking about them tends to precipitate other disasters. The man who is always on the look-out for orange peel is very liable to run his head against a lamp-post. If after that he is always thinking of lamp-posts, he is almost certain to slip on a piece of orange peel. And people who are constantly worrying about the future, and all the ills that it may bring with it, are inviting troubles, for they are frittering their energies instead of applying them to their work.Worry and neurasthenia.Worry is a potent factor in causing neurasthenia, and once that has come about the system is deprived of its resisting power and laid open to disease. And neurasthenics are singularly prone to forebodings. The state of the nervous system alters the circulation in the body to such an extent that it is apt to cause the feeling of illness, if not illness itself. Such people are liable to feel chilly or burning hot, even though their temperatures may be normal. Yet because of their sensations they feel certain that they are going to be ill, and the dread of this still further aggravates their nervous condition.While worry brings on neurasthenia, the latter adds to worry. The whole process is like a snowball rolling down a hill, increasing in size as it does so. All the more reason, therefore, why we should take every precaution to arrest it at theoutset, by considering in what way worry can be prevented.How to prevent worry.This can never be done by running away from responsibilities or difficulties of any sort. Such as they may be, we must face them. There are many people to-day, as in the ancient time, who sigh for the wings of a dove that they may fly away and be at rest. Even if they got the wings, it is doubtful if they would be much better off. In all probability they would find that they had gone farther only to fare worse.Neither can worry be got rid of by sitting down and trying to make up our minds that we will not give way to it. The seasick man might as well command the waves to be still. We have little direct control over the nervous system, but we have a vast amount of influence over the movements of the body, which reacts in such a pronounced manner on the mind.Body and mind.The man who walks and talks hurriedly or jerkily tends to think in like fashion. Those whose minds are in a fume and a fidget usually show it by fussing about and behave generally in a restless manner. Let them force themselves to walk quietly and deliberately, and they will be surprised to find how quickly their minds follow suit and settle down into a steadier groove. And if they take care to speak in the same deliberate fashion at the same time, the good effect will be heightened. The movement of thelimbs and of the lips react on the mind to a surprising extent.If any should doubt what we have said as to the close connection between the body and the mind, let them try an experiment which was advocated many years ago by a celebrated psychologist. It consists in reading a comic book with the features contracted into a stern frown, and following this up by reading a pathetic one with the face relaxed into a broad grin. The result will convince them as to the truth of our previous statements.Anticipation.Sometimes a man is worried to death on account of some event he is anticipating, a reply to some letter he has sent, or the news of some appointment he is in for. Often under such circumstances he will pace up and down like a caged beast, until the nervous tension almost makes him ill. Try as he may, he cannot sit still. But he can do something equally efficacious, he can engage in some other occupation, keeping his hands and mind employed, instead of glancing continually at the clock or looking for the postman.Beset by work.And sometimes people are beset by business until they scarcely know where to turn. Then it may be that they become so agitated that they can do nothing to further the matter in hand. A man once consulted a doctor as to an experience that had befallen him on the previous evening. “At teatime,” he said, “Ifound myself becoming anxious and worried as to the amount of work in front of me. And the harder I tried to get on with it the more obstinately my brain refused to act, and by bedtime I had got everything into a hopeless muddle.”The doctor told him that curiously enough he himself had had a similar experience the same evening, and just about the same time.“And what did you do?” the patient inquired, and was much astonished when the medical man replied, “Went out, had a couple of games of billiards, then came back and finished it all comfortably in a couple of hours.”When a man finds that his work is worrying him unduly, or when he is so overwhelmed by it that he cannot keep his mental equilibrium, the best thing he can do is to stop it for a time and have a rest or a change of some sort, even if it is only for a few minutes. It will facilitate the work in the long run, and will save the nervous system from an amount of wear and tear which may take days or weeks to put right again.Unpunctuality and untidiness are responsible for a great amount of unnecessary worry. The man who is habitually late in the mornings is apt to find his work accumulate to such an extent that by the time he ought to be finishing his day’s work he feels it has become a heavy burden upon his shoulders. And people who keep their desks in an untidy condition lose a vast amount of time, and harass themselves by having to search for things they should have been able to put their fingers on at once.Stimulants.Above all, let a man avoid stimulating hisflagging brain by means of alcohol, or soothing it by the aid of drugs. Tobacco, however, is—in the writer’s opinion at least—a boon to people of a worrying disposition. If used to excess, especially in the form of cigarettes, it may sap the nervous system, and lead to more worry than it is likely to prevent. Taken in moderation, and in its healthiest form, that of a pipe, it often proves of great benefit to tired nerves.Leisure time.It is of the utmost importance for people who are subject to worry to pay every attention to the way in which they spend their leisure time. It is even more important in their case than in that of people who work too hard.Overwork compared with worry.The effect of overwork is to cause fatigue. The mind has been kept too long in a certain groove, until it has become wearied from sheer exhaustion. Certain parts of the brain or the body are tired out for the time being. Such persons need recreation pure and simple. A pleasant game or a light novel is the best remedy for their fatigue, taking the mind out of the groove in which it has been confined.The effect of worry, on the other hand, is to produce a state of restlessness, both of mind and body. The nervous system is in an irritable condition, and requires something that will steady it down. A game may only add excitement to the restlessness. The brain is acting in anirregular, discursive manner, and needs some method of treatment which will reduce it to order. And this can best be obtained by means of a quiet hobby. The overworked man is like a horse that has been plodding along all day in the shafts with a heavy weight behind it; a little freedom, perhaps a gallop round a field, will do it more good than anything else. The over-worried man is like a horse that has been plunging aimlessly around, excited and irritable: an hour’s hard work between the shafts is what it needs.Worries and hobbies.Therefore, while the fatigued man requires recreation, the worried one will do better with some hobby that needs a certain amount of concentration. The form of hobby best suited to him depends on his tastes and capabilities. A celebrated physician once told me that when he found himself becoming worried he could quiet his mind most speedily by mathematical problems. They would do him far more good than any game or other form of recreation.Many people, however, might find this too great a strain, for it is possible to be worried and tired at the same time, as we all know. Yet there are many hobbies which demand a certain amount of concentration without making too great a call on the mental faculties.They may take up books on travel, for instance, and there is no more fascinating form of reading. Let them select some particular country, and read all they can find about it, its inhabitants and customs, until they are authorities on thatsubject. Or they may go in for history, studying some particular period, and read all the manuals and historical novels dealing with it. Continuity is a great point in any hobby; it makes it not only more interesting, but there is the pleasure of knowing it is always there, waiting for them, without their having to consider what to take up next.Or they may dip into such subjects as astronomy, botany or a host of others. And these will do more than refresh the mind at the time. People of a worrying disposition are always restless and fidgety on a railway journey, but those who take an interest in such things as geology, flora and fauna will find plenty to occupy their minds with as they go along. Even railway embankments may be made a cinematograph of delight to the man who has studied land formations. And anyone who is interested in architecture need never fear the tedium of having to spend an hour or two in a strange town waiting for the next train.Those who have a taste for poetry may consider themselves fortunate, for there is something in the harmony of words that has a specially beneficial effect on the worried mind. The rhythm, either of blank verse or rhyme, is excellently adapted for reducing the aimless wandering of an overwrought mind to a regular, steady running. Especially is this the case if people take the trouble to learn it by heart. For this acts as a kind of mental mastication, and the poetry is consequently absorbed and becomes a part oftheir very being. Then they are laying up for themselves a store of treasures which they may enjoy at any moment. People who worry are always liable to be irritable when alone, and need something to counteract their moody tendencies.A man of this type was so subject to irritability of this sort when he was dressing in the mornings that he invariably started the day badly. And a day that begins in this way is like a choir that starts on a wrong note, it is a difficult matter to get back to the right one again. This man, owing to his unfortunate habit, found it almost impossible to recover a harmonious frame of mind, until at last he hit upon the secret. He had become enamoured of the writings of a certain poet, and had begun to learn whole passages by heart. After that he found himself repeating these to himself when he got up in the morning, and it is no exaggeration to say that it altered his life. It gave him a good send-off for the day, and saved him from many a mistake and many a worry.A hobby which combines hand and eye and brain is of great service to a flurried mind. Engineers, carpenters and all who are engaged in like occupations unconsciously acquire an orderly, methodical way of thinking.As to what form of manual work people take up their individual tastes will decide, just as much as in the kind of reading they indulge in. If they have a faculty for art, they can take up painting or music. And when I say music, I mean practising it properly, not simply sittingdown to the piano to improvise or wander from piece to piece. It is the steady practice which does the brain good.Or they may prefer carpentry or wood carving, or preparing microscopic slides, than which there is no more absorbing hobby. There are scores of others, too, equally interesting.Nothing, however trivial, is beneath our notice, if it will in any way mitigate this deadly habit of worrying, which has such a detrimental influence on the nervous system, and so often is responsible both for the starting-point and the climax of a breakdown.

It is a true saying that worry, not work, kills. People can get through an amazing amount of work if they do it in a quiet and methodical manner.

One morning two men were walking along a road in the direction of a railway station. One of them was going at a steady pace, with a look of contentment about him, as if he were enjoying the walk. The other was hurrying along with quick, nervous steps, occasionally looking at his watch and breaking into a short run, while his strained expression and panting breath formed a marked contrast to the easy deportment of his friend.

They both caught the train, but while one was cool and collected and felt invigorated for his work when he reached the terminus, the other was hot and flurried, and this gave him a bad start for the day. Moreover, each of them transacted his business in much the same way as he had walked to the station, one doing it quietly and methodically, while the other spent his time in rushing from one thing to another, taking his lunch in the fewest possible minutes, and constantly worrying himself and everyone else into the bargain.

The singular part of it was that the quiet, steady-going man got through more work in theday than his friend did, and years later, when they had reached middle age, was as fit as ever for his business, whereas the other man was broken down by overwork, as he called it.

In the last chapter we considered the question of physical and mental fatigue resulting from work. We purposely omitted the element of worry, which does more harm than all the other conditions of work put together. For worry does more than tire the mind—it demoralises it.

In a certain war two companies of men had to march an equal distance in order to meet at a particular spot. The one arrived in perfect order, and with few signs of exhaustion, although the march had been an arduous one. The other company reached the place utterly done up and disorganised. It was all a question of leadership: the captain of the first company had known his way and kept his men in good order, while the captain of the second company had never been sure of himself, and had harassed his subordinates with a constant succession of orders and counter-orders, until they had hardly known whether they were on their heads or their heels. That was why they arrived looking completely demoralised.

Worry and the mind.

Now worry has precisely the same effect on the mind as a bad leader has upon his men. For the mind is not a vague mystery “somewhere inside the head,” as it is generally supposed to be. The brain is a matter of tissue and blood, the same as any other partof the body. We may not know quite so much about it, but that does not affect the question. The workings of the mind are as definite and practical as the movements of the fingers. The brain cells have, stretching out from them, a number of minute filaments. We know that the tips of these filaments move about and touch their neighbours. And according to the manner in which they move, different trains of thought are set up. The intricate network is constantly changing its form, as the filaments link up together various parts of the brain tissue.

It is, in fact, the counterpart of a telephone system, which has wires and exchanges and call offices extending all over the country. From these offices telephone callers are put into communication with each other, and there is a never-ending linking-up and switching-off taking place, and the harmony of the systems depends on the efficiency of the operators. Fill one of the exchanges with a lot of fussy, ill-trained people, who would lose their heads, and the whole system would be disorganised in a very short time.

Each man possesses his own telephone system inside his head, and the working of it depends entirely on himself. If he fidgets and fumes and gets excited over what he is doing, he worries the brain filaments until they begin to act all ways except the right one. And not only do they fail to carry out their purpose, but the bother and flurry through which they pass tire them out as no amount of steady work could ever do. Like the men of the second company, theyget to the end of their day’s work fagged and exhausted.

If this goes on long, for days and months and years in succession, the strain becomes too great, and they either refuse to work at all or they get completely out of hand. And, whichever they do, it means that the man who owns them suffers from a breakdown. And it was the worry, not the work, which caused it.

Some people have a born knack of worrying. The mental agony through which they pass when taking a railway journey is almost incredible. They worry as to whether they will get to the station in time, and if their luggage will arrive safely at its destination, and a hundred other things as well.

We once heard a lady say—almost boastfully, she seemed proud of the fact—that she never slept a wink all night if she was a penny out in her household accounts. She did not say what happened if she was a halfpenny out. We can only presume, therefore, that in that case she slept for half the night.

With worries of this sort we have no sympathy. They can be overcome by an effort of will, and those who give way to them had better realise that they are not only bothering the people around them, but endangering their own nervous systems as well. For worry leads to worry. A mind that is addicted to them will always tend to distort things, making mountains out of molehills. Objects invariably loom larger in a fog.

And of all troubles in this life there are none sohard to bear as imaginary ones. Many of us prefer to meet a burglar rather than a ghost. The troubles we dread rarely come. Yet the strain of thinking about them tends to precipitate other disasters. The man who is always on the look-out for orange peel is very liable to run his head against a lamp-post. If after that he is always thinking of lamp-posts, he is almost certain to slip on a piece of orange peel. And people who are constantly worrying about the future, and all the ills that it may bring with it, are inviting troubles, for they are frittering their energies instead of applying them to their work.

Worry and neurasthenia.

Worry is a potent factor in causing neurasthenia, and once that has come about the system is deprived of its resisting power and laid open to disease. And neurasthenics are singularly prone to forebodings. The state of the nervous system alters the circulation in the body to such an extent that it is apt to cause the feeling of illness, if not illness itself. Such people are liable to feel chilly or burning hot, even though their temperatures may be normal. Yet because of their sensations they feel certain that they are going to be ill, and the dread of this still further aggravates their nervous condition.

While worry brings on neurasthenia, the latter adds to worry. The whole process is like a snowball rolling down a hill, increasing in size as it does so. All the more reason, therefore, why we should take every precaution to arrest it at theoutset, by considering in what way worry can be prevented.

How to prevent worry.

This can never be done by running away from responsibilities or difficulties of any sort. Such as they may be, we must face them. There are many people to-day, as in the ancient time, who sigh for the wings of a dove that they may fly away and be at rest. Even if they got the wings, it is doubtful if they would be much better off. In all probability they would find that they had gone farther only to fare worse.

Neither can worry be got rid of by sitting down and trying to make up our minds that we will not give way to it. The seasick man might as well command the waves to be still. We have little direct control over the nervous system, but we have a vast amount of influence over the movements of the body, which reacts in such a pronounced manner on the mind.

Body and mind.

The man who walks and talks hurriedly or jerkily tends to think in like fashion. Those whose minds are in a fume and a fidget usually show it by fussing about and behave generally in a restless manner. Let them force themselves to walk quietly and deliberately, and they will be surprised to find how quickly their minds follow suit and settle down into a steadier groove. And if they take care to speak in the same deliberate fashion at the same time, the good effect will be heightened. The movement of thelimbs and of the lips react on the mind to a surprising extent.

If any should doubt what we have said as to the close connection between the body and the mind, let them try an experiment which was advocated many years ago by a celebrated psychologist. It consists in reading a comic book with the features contracted into a stern frown, and following this up by reading a pathetic one with the face relaxed into a broad grin. The result will convince them as to the truth of our previous statements.

Anticipation.

Sometimes a man is worried to death on account of some event he is anticipating, a reply to some letter he has sent, or the news of some appointment he is in for. Often under such circumstances he will pace up and down like a caged beast, until the nervous tension almost makes him ill. Try as he may, he cannot sit still. But he can do something equally efficacious, he can engage in some other occupation, keeping his hands and mind employed, instead of glancing continually at the clock or looking for the postman.

Beset by work.

And sometimes people are beset by business until they scarcely know where to turn. Then it may be that they become so agitated that they can do nothing to further the matter in hand. A man once consulted a doctor as to an experience that had befallen him on the previous evening. “At teatime,” he said, “Ifound myself becoming anxious and worried as to the amount of work in front of me. And the harder I tried to get on with it the more obstinately my brain refused to act, and by bedtime I had got everything into a hopeless muddle.”

The doctor told him that curiously enough he himself had had a similar experience the same evening, and just about the same time.

“And what did you do?” the patient inquired, and was much astonished when the medical man replied, “Went out, had a couple of games of billiards, then came back and finished it all comfortably in a couple of hours.”

When a man finds that his work is worrying him unduly, or when he is so overwhelmed by it that he cannot keep his mental equilibrium, the best thing he can do is to stop it for a time and have a rest or a change of some sort, even if it is only for a few minutes. It will facilitate the work in the long run, and will save the nervous system from an amount of wear and tear which may take days or weeks to put right again.

Unpunctuality and untidiness are responsible for a great amount of unnecessary worry. The man who is habitually late in the mornings is apt to find his work accumulate to such an extent that by the time he ought to be finishing his day’s work he feels it has become a heavy burden upon his shoulders. And people who keep their desks in an untidy condition lose a vast amount of time, and harass themselves by having to search for things they should have been able to put their fingers on at once.

Stimulants.

Above all, let a man avoid stimulating hisflagging brain by means of alcohol, or soothing it by the aid of drugs. Tobacco, however, is—in the writer’s opinion at least—a boon to people of a worrying disposition. If used to excess, especially in the form of cigarettes, it may sap the nervous system, and lead to more worry than it is likely to prevent. Taken in moderation, and in its healthiest form, that of a pipe, it often proves of great benefit to tired nerves.

Leisure time.

It is of the utmost importance for people who are subject to worry to pay every attention to the way in which they spend their leisure time. It is even more important in their case than in that of people who work too hard.

Overwork compared with worry.

The effect of overwork is to cause fatigue. The mind has been kept too long in a certain groove, until it has become wearied from sheer exhaustion. Certain parts of the brain or the body are tired out for the time being. Such persons need recreation pure and simple. A pleasant game or a light novel is the best remedy for their fatigue, taking the mind out of the groove in which it has been confined.

The effect of worry, on the other hand, is to produce a state of restlessness, both of mind and body. The nervous system is in an irritable condition, and requires something that will steady it down. A game may only add excitement to the restlessness. The brain is acting in anirregular, discursive manner, and needs some method of treatment which will reduce it to order. And this can best be obtained by means of a quiet hobby. The overworked man is like a horse that has been plodding along all day in the shafts with a heavy weight behind it; a little freedom, perhaps a gallop round a field, will do it more good than anything else. The over-worried man is like a horse that has been plunging aimlessly around, excited and irritable: an hour’s hard work between the shafts is what it needs.

Worries and hobbies.

Therefore, while the fatigued man requires recreation, the worried one will do better with some hobby that needs a certain amount of concentration. The form of hobby best suited to him depends on his tastes and capabilities. A celebrated physician once told me that when he found himself becoming worried he could quiet his mind most speedily by mathematical problems. They would do him far more good than any game or other form of recreation.

Many people, however, might find this too great a strain, for it is possible to be worried and tired at the same time, as we all know. Yet there are many hobbies which demand a certain amount of concentration without making too great a call on the mental faculties.

They may take up books on travel, for instance, and there is no more fascinating form of reading. Let them select some particular country, and read all they can find about it, its inhabitants and customs, until they are authorities on thatsubject. Or they may go in for history, studying some particular period, and read all the manuals and historical novels dealing with it. Continuity is a great point in any hobby; it makes it not only more interesting, but there is the pleasure of knowing it is always there, waiting for them, without their having to consider what to take up next.

Or they may dip into such subjects as astronomy, botany or a host of others. And these will do more than refresh the mind at the time. People of a worrying disposition are always restless and fidgety on a railway journey, but those who take an interest in such things as geology, flora and fauna will find plenty to occupy their minds with as they go along. Even railway embankments may be made a cinematograph of delight to the man who has studied land formations. And anyone who is interested in architecture need never fear the tedium of having to spend an hour or two in a strange town waiting for the next train.

Those who have a taste for poetry may consider themselves fortunate, for there is something in the harmony of words that has a specially beneficial effect on the worried mind. The rhythm, either of blank verse or rhyme, is excellently adapted for reducing the aimless wandering of an overwrought mind to a regular, steady running. Especially is this the case if people take the trouble to learn it by heart. For this acts as a kind of mental mastication, and the poetry is consequently absorbed and becomes a part oftheir very being. Then they are laying up for themselves a store of treasures which they may enjoy at any moment. People who worry are always liable to be irritable when alone, and need something to counteract their moody tendencies.

A man of this type was so subject to irritability of this sort when he was dressing in the mornings that he invariably started the day badly. And a day that begins in this way is like a choir that starts on a wrong note, it is a difficult matter to get back to the right one again. This man, owing to his unfortunate habit, found it almost impossible to recover a harmonious frame of mind, until at last he hit upon the secret. He had become enamoured of the writings of a certain poet, and had begun to learn whole passages by heart. After that he found himself repeating these to himself when he got up in the morning, and it is no exaggeration to say that it altered his life. It gave him a good send-off for the day, and saved him from many a mistake and many a worry.

A hobby which combines hand and eye and brain is of great service to a flurried mind. Engineers, carpenters and all who are engaged in like occupations unconsciously acquire an orderly, methodical way of thinking.

As to what form of manual work people take up their individual tastes will decide, just as much as in the kind of reading they indulge in. If they have a faculty for art, they can take up painting or music. And when I say music, I mean practising it properly, not simply sittingdown to the piano to improvise or wander from piece to piece. It is the steady practice which does the brain good.

Or they may prefer carpentry or wood carving, or preparing microscopic slides, than which there is no more absorbing hobby. There are scores of others, too, equally interesting.

Nothing, however trivial, is beneath our notice, if it will in any way mitigate this deadly habit of worrying, which has such a detrimental influence on the nervous system, and so often is responsible both for the starting-point and the climax of a breakdown.

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