How to Get Strong and How to Stay So (1899)/Chapter 3

by William Blaikie

CHAPTER III

WILL DAILY PHYSICAL EXERCISE FOR GIRLS PAY?

Look at the girls in any of our cities or towns as they pass to or from school; and see how few of them are at once shapely, and strong, and have good complexions. Some are one or the other; but very few are all combined; while many are neither one of them. Instead of high chests, plump arms, comely figures, and a graceful and handsome mien; you see many flat chests, angular shoulders, often round and warped forward, with awkward necks, pipe-stem arms, narrow backs, and a weak walk. Not one girl in a dozen is erect, whether walking, standing, or sitting. Nearly every head is pitched somewhat forward. The arms are held still; and there is a lack of spring and elasticity of movement. Fresh, blooming complexions are rare. Stop a moment and see if you can name five girls who have them. And yet what does more to make girl or woman radiant with beauty than a perfect complexion? Among eyes, plenty of them pretty, sparkling, or intelligent, but few have vigor and force. If any dozen girls, taken at random, should place their hands side by side on a table; many, if not most, of those hands would be found to lack beauty and symmetry; the fingers, and indeed the whole hand, too often having a weak, undeveloped, nerveless look.

Now watch these girls at play. See how few of their games bring them really vigorous exercise. Set them to running; and hardly one has the swift, graceful, gliding motion she might readily have. Not one can run any distance at a good pace. There is vivacity and spirit; they are willing to play with great freedom; but very little such play as there might be, and which would pay so well. Most of their exercise is for their feet alone, the hands not having much to do. The girls of the most favored classes are apt to be the poorest players. The quality and color of their clothing makes them avoid all active, hearty play; while it is the constant effort of nurse or governess to repress that exuberance of spirits which ought to belong to every boy and girl. Holding one's elbows close to the body while walking, and keeping the hands nearly or quite motionless, may accord with the requirements of fashionable life; but it is bad for the arms; keeping them poor and thin, when they might be models of grace and beauty.

As the girl comes home from school, not with one book only, but often six or eight; instead of looking light and strong and free; she is too often what she really appears to be, pale and weak. So many books means much work for one day, at any rate for one evening; and she seems overworked. The truth is that the advance to be made in each book is but trifling, and the aggregate, not at all large; by no means too great for the same girl were she strong and hearty. It is not the mental work which is breaking her down; but there is no adequate physical exercise to build her up. See what ex-Surgeon-General Hammond says, in his work on "Sleep," as to the ability to endure protracted brain-work without ill result:

"It is not the mere quantity of brain-work which is the chief factor in the production of disease. The emotional conditions under which work is performed is a far more important matter. A man of trained mental habits can bear with safety an almost incredible amount of brain-toil, provided he is permitted to work without distraction or excitement, in the absence of disquieting cares and anxieties. It is not brain-work, in fact, that kills, but brain-worry."

The girl, of course, has not the strength for the protracted effort of the matured man; nor is such effort often asked of her. Her studying is done quietly at home; undisturbed, usually, by any such cares and responsibilities as the man has to face. Hers is generally brain-work, not brain-worry. Yet the few hours a day fag her, because her vital system, which supports her brain, is feeble and defective. No girl is at school over six hours out of the twenty-four; and, deducting the time taken for recitation, recess, and the other things which are not study; five hours, or even less, will cover the time she gives to actual brain-work in school; with two, or perhaps three, hours daily out of school. With the other sixteen hours her own, there is time for all the exercise she needs or could take; and yet allow ten, or even twelve, of those hours for sleep and eating. But notice, in any of these off-hours, what exercise these girls have. They walk to and fro from school; indeed often do not do even that,—but ride; they play a few minutes at recess; they may have an occasional irregular stroll besides; or a little tennis; but all the time intent on their conversation; never thinking of the exercise itself, and the benefit it brings. Such things fill up the measure of the daily physical exercise of thousands of our American girls. It is the same thing for nearly all, save those from the poorest classes.

And what is the result? Exactly what such exercise—or, rather, such lack of it—would bring. The short run, if any; the walk or ride to or from school; the afternoon stroll, or the idle standing about—none of these call for or beget strength of limb, depth of chest, or vitality. None of these exercises is more than almost any flat-chested, half-developed girl could do, without effort; and, going through them for years, she would need little more strength than she had at first. Indeed most girls have better figures before they are two years old than they ever have afterwards.

But all this time her mind is kept busy. Subjects are set before her, to grasp and master which needs hours of close study each day. More of them also, and harder ones. Many influences spur her on. Maybe emulation and determination, not only to do well, but to excel. Maybe it is to gratify the teacher's pride, and a desire to show the good fruit of her work. Perhaps oftener than anything else the girl is in dread of being dropped into another class; and she makes up her mind to stay in her present one at all hazards.

But with all this there is an advance in the amount and difficulty of the brain-work. The delicate girl and the strong one must fare alike. To those of a like age come like tasks. The delicate girl, from not liking physical effort; finding that for the time her weakness of body does not interfere much with a ready-working brain; gradually draws even more away from livelier games and exercises, in which she does not excel, and to get more at her books. Can there be much doubt as to the result a few years later? Is it any wonder that the neglected body develops some weakness; or too often general debility? Is it at all a rare thing, in the observation of any one, to see this weakness, this debility become chronic; and the woman, later on in life, a source of anxiety and a burden to her friends, when instead of this she might have been a valued helper?

Now, if the body, during the growing years, was on to do nothing which should even half-develop it; while the brain was pushed nearly to its utmost; does it take long to decide whether such a course was a wise one? Leaving out entirely the discomfort to the body; is that a sensible system of education which leaves a girl liable to become weak, if not entirely broken down, before she is well on in middle age? Is this not like giving great care to moral and mental education alone and actually doing almost nothing for their physical nature? Is this not an irrational and one-sided course, and sure to beget a one-sided person? And if, as is a matter of common remark, half our women are sick, is it hard to find a cause for it? And yet is not that just what is going on to-day with a great majority of the young girls in our land?

The moment it is conceded that a delicate body can be made a robust one; that moment it is plain that there can be great gain in the comfort and usefulness of the possessor of that body not only during all the last half of her life, but through the first half as well. And yet, to those who know what judicious, daily physical exercise has done, and can do, for a delicate body, there is no more doubt but that this later strength, and even sturdiness, can be acquired, than that the algebra or geometry, which at first seems impenetrable, can be gradually mastered. The rules which bring success in each are in many ways the same. Give the muscles of the hand and forearm, for instance, as vigorous and steady use for the school-year as these studies bring to the brain; and the physical grasp will as surely and steadily improve as does the mental. Give not only the delicate girls, but all girls, exercises which shall insure strong and shapely limbs; and chests deep, full, and high; beginning these exercises mildly, and progressing very gradually; correcting this high shoulder, or that stoop, or this hollow chest, or that overstep; and carrying on this development as long as the school-days last. Let this be done under a teacher as skilled at her work as the mathematical instructor is at his; and what incalculable benefit would accrue, not to this generation alone, but to their descendants as well!

But will not this physical training dull the mind for its work? Did it dull the mind of Miss Fawcett, daughter of the late Professor Fawcett, at one time England's blind Postmaster-General; who won a Senior Wranglership by four hundred points over the best man in Cambridge University? Yet who studied only six hours a day! but spent from two to three hours every day at tennis, and shinny played at a very lively pace at that! Or who could row in a four-oared crew with her gifted and stalwart father, and other members of the family, in a style that won praise from all who saw them!

And what if this daily exercise, besides improving the body, should also bring actually better mental work? Unbending the bow for a little while; taking the tension from the brain for a few minutes, and depleting it by expanding the chest to its fullest capacity, and increasing the circulation in the limbs;—these, instead of impairing that brain, will repair it; and will markedly improve its tone and vigor.

There ought to be in every girls' school in our land, for pupils of every age, a system of physical culture which should first weed out special weaknesses and defects; and then create and maintain the symmetry of the pupils, increasing their bodily vigor and strength up to maturity. If many of the girls in a class have flat or indifferent chests; put them in a squad which shall pay direct and steady attention to raising, expanding, and strengthening the chest. If many have a bad gait, some stepping too long, others too short; set them aside for daily special attention to their step. If many, or nearly all, have an inerect carriage; then daily insist on such exercises for them as shall straighten them up, and keep them up. The dancing-master teaches the girl to step gracefully and accurately through various dancing-steps. To teach a correct length of step, and method of putting the foot down and raising it in walking, is not nearly so difficult a task. If the "setting-up" drill of the West-Pointer in a few weeks transforms the raw and ungainly country-boy into a youth of erect and military bearing; and insisting on that hearing at all times throughout the first year gives the cadet a set and carriage which he often retains through life; is there anything to hinder the girl from acquiring an equally erect and handsome carriage of the body, if she too will only use the means? If the muscles which, when fully developed, enable one to sit or stand erect for hours together are now weak; is it not wise to at once strengthen them?

But may not this vigorous muscular exercise, which tends to produce hard and knotted muscles in the man, take away the softer and more graceful lines, which are essentially feminine? If exercise be kept up for hours together, as in the case of the blacksmith, it surely will. But that is a thing a sensible system of exercise would avoid, as studiously as it would the weakness and inefficiency which result from no work. A little trial soon tells what amount of work, and how much of it, best suits each pupil; then the daily taking of that proportion or kind of exercise; and its increase, as the newly acquired strength justifies and invites it; is all that is required. Without that hardness and solidity which are essentially masculine; there still comes a firmness and plumpness of muscle to which the unused arm or back was a stranger. Instead of these being incompatible with beauty, they are directly accessory to it. "Elegance of form in the human figure," says Emerson, "marks some excellence of structure"; and again, "Any real increase of fitness to its end, in any fabric or organism, is an increase of beauty."

Look at the famous beauties of any age; and everything in the picture or statue points to this same firmness and symmetry of make; this freedom from either leanness or flabbiness. The Venuses and Junos, the Minervas, Niobes, and Helens of mythology; the Madonnas; the mediæval beauties; all alike have the well-developed and shapely arm and shoulder; the high chest; the vigorous body; and the firm and erect carriage. Were there a thin chest or a flat shoulder; a poor and feeble arm or a contracted waist; it would at once mar the picture, and bring down on it judgment anything but favorable. Put now on the canvas or in marble, not the strongest and most comely, neither the weakest and least-favored, of our American girls or women; but simply her who fairly represents the average; and, however well the face and expression might suffice, the imperfect physical development, and indifferent figure and carriage, would at once justly provoke unfavorable comment.

That the same vigorous exercise and training which brought forth womanly physical beauty in ancient days will bring it out now, there need be no manner of doubt. An apt case in point was mentioned in the New York Tribune. It said:

"The study and practice of gymnastics are to be made compulsory in all the State schools in Italy. The apostle of physical culture in that enervating climate is Sebastian Fenzi, the son of a Florence banker. He built a gymnasium at his own expense in that city, and from that beginning the movement has extended from city to city. He has preached gymnastics to senators and deputies, to the syndic and municipal councillors, and even to the crown princess, now queen. He especially inculcates its advantages on all mothers of families, as likely to increase to a remarkable extent the personal charms of their daughters. And so far as his own domestic experience goes, his theories have not been contradicted by practice, for he is the father of the most beautiful women in Italy."

That beauty and grace of person are founded, in large part, upon fine physical development, listen to one of our own experienced instructors in this field.

Dr. Dan Milliken, of Hamilton, Ohio, in an address to the Misses Storer and Lupton's School for Girls in Cincinnati, said:

"What is grace? A graceful act is one which is accomplished with directness, swiftness, certainty, and with apparent ease. Let the act be uncertain in its performance, and at once the charm of grace vanishes. Let the act be sluggish, and there is no grace in it. Let it lack preciseness, certainty, and we can see no grace in it. But, above all, let an act be performed with apparent effort, and we agree at once that there is no grace in it. Now I do not think that I need to argue that celerity, certainty, and steadiness of action are only possible to creatures having a reasonable amount of good muscle. The matchlessly beautiful movements of birds, and squirrels, and antelopes, and horses, and the great family of cats, give us a strong ocular demonstration of the truth that grace goes with strength, and it is impossible to any animal that is slow and uncertain or feeble. This precious gift, then,—grace or beauty of action,—is to be attained, only by means of bodily strength. "Muscular strength gives beauty in repose. As to the human form, I might at once appeal to classical models admittedly beautiful, and simply urge that they have a certain squareness about them; … artists know nothing of beauty in a form that would give a circular section if sawn in two at any point—not even at the waist; and this squareness means strength. Any muscle, well developed, is beautiful; muscular lines are lines of beauty everywhere. I have yet to hear admiration of a lady's arm that has not good biceps and triceps under its coating of feminine adipose; and as to the forearm, the most beautiful specimens in flesh and blood that I know of are the forearms of pianistes, who have muscles of steel from wrist to elbow."

In his Romantic Love and Personal Beauty, Mr. Finck says (p. 401):

"Always hear in mind that grace of movement often excels beauty of form in the power of inspiring romantic love. And remember that any pains you take to acquire grace will not only multiply your own charms; but will establish a habit of graceful movement in your muscles which will be inherited by your children."

Suppose Smith or Wellesley, or Vassar or Bryn Mawr, should at once introduce in their deservedly famous colleges a system of physical education which should proceed on the simple but intelligent plan, first of training the weaker muscles of each pupil until they are as strong as the rest; and then of transferring the young woman thus physically improved from the class of this or that special work, to that which insures to all muscles alike ample, daily vigorous exercise. That all the girls could be made to consider this daily lesson us much a matter of course in their studies as anything else. Again, that there is a teacher familiar with the work and all its requirements, one who is capable of interesting others, one who fully enters into the spirit of it. With such a master or mistress, if that exercise has been ample; and if the pupils are instructed—whether they be sitting, standing, or walking—to always remain erect; is there any reason why the Vassar girls should not soon have as fine and impressive a carriage and be able to walk as far as the manly young fellows at the Academy across the river, but a few miles distant? But at which college for women in all our land is there such teaching? And not of some pupils, but of all? where they make the slim arm full-sized, plump and round and strong? and the flat chest well set? and every girl a fleet runner, doing a mile or two easily; and graceful, lissome and springy of step besides.

Looking again at the effect on the mental work; would the daily half-hour of exercise in-doors, and the hour's constitutional out-doors in all weathers, if sensibly arranged, interfere one whit with all the intellectual progress the girls could or should make? For, is that a rational system of intellectual progress which brings out a bright intellect on a half-developed body, and promises fine things in the future; when the body has had no training adequate to justify the belief that there will be much of any future? Is not that rather a dear price to pay for such intellectuality? Hear Herbert Spencer on this point:

"On women the effects of this forcing system are, if possible, even more injurious than on men. Being in a great measure debarred from those vigorous and enjoyable exercises of body by which boys mitigate the evils of excessive study, girls feel these evils in their full intensity. Hence the much smaller proportion of them who grow up well made and healthy. In the pale, angular, flat-chested young ladies, so abundant in London drawing-rooms, we see the effect of merciless application unrelieved by youthful sports; and this physical degeneracy exhibited by them hinders their welfare far more than their many accomplishments aid it. Mamas anxious to make their daughters attractive could scarcely choose a course more fatal than this, which sacrifices the body to the mind. Either they disregard the tastes of the opposite sex; or else their conception of those tastes is erroneous. Men care comparatively little for erudition in women; but very much for physical beauty, and good-nature and sound sense. How many conquests does the blue-stocking make through her extensive knowledge of history?"

This is a question quite worthy of the consideration of every teacher of girls in our land; and a paragraph full of suggestion, not only to every parent having a child's interests in his or her keeping; but to every spirited girl herself as well.

Every school-girl in America could be daily practised in a few simple exercises; calling for no costly, intricate, or dangerous apparatus; taking a little time, but yet expanding her lungs, and keeping them expanded; invigorating her circulation, strengthening her digestion; giving every muscle and joint of her body vigorous play; and so keeping her toned up, and strong enough to be free from much danger either of incurring serious disease, or any of the lighter ailments so common among us. As to her usefulness, no matter where her lot is to be cast, it will be increased; and, it is not too much to add, her happiness and that of those around her will be greatly enhanced through all her life as well.