How to Get Strong and How to Stay So (1899)/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII
WHAT A GYMNASIUM MIGHT BE AND DO
Twenty years ago there was hardly a good gymnasium in this country. Now there are many good ones, and a few great ones. Those of the Manhattan Athletic Club at New York; of Yale University; of Columbia University; of the New York Athletic Club; and of the Chicago Athletic Club being little short of palatial; while the pioneer of these finer ones—the Hemenway at Harvard—large as it is, is already unequal to its demands; and needs many radical changes. Abundant and excellent apparatus; suitable bathing facilities; ample dressing-room and locker equipment; thorough ventilation; careful watch to keep all appliances in repair; rowing-tanks; boxing, fencing, wrestling, and baseball rooms; bowling-alleys; and the other appointments which help to make such a place useful and attractive, are ready for all. In some there is a dearth of pictures and casts and statues of the best models of all times; which would aid the student in his work. Every gymnasium—and every school too—should have a manikin; so that all could quickly know the size and location of each vital organ, and larger muscle; and its part in the bodily economy. Such a place should not only benefit, but should delight whoever is able to use it. The entering student especially has long looked forward to it, as one of the chief attractions of his university life. And most of them need it. For, though President Eliot will not find it so true as formerly, when he said that a majority of those entering Harvard, for instance, had "undeveloped muscles; a bad carriage; and an impaired digestion; without skill in out-of-door games; and unable to ride, row, swim or shoot"; still the number is too great; and will remain so, as long as it is true of even one, unless he is disabled. With all these finer houses and better tools, it is doubtful if the proportion of really first-class men physically, at any of the Universities, is greater than it was a generation ago. Fifteen-inch upper arms; twelve and a half inch forearms; and forty-five-inch chests are just as rare, relatively to the whole number of students, as they ever were. And this though there are more heavy ones now than then. Long-distance men, in every field of athletics, save cycling, are almost unknown among us. We can go, but we do not stay. And no judge, scrutinizing the picked men at an ordinary athletic meet, will say that we are built to stay.
At entering the student is usually inerect; and needs "setting up" quite as much as the newly arrived "pleb" at West Point. But does he get it? At some places, Yes; at others, No. If from good stock, stronger than the average; and it happens to be a year when there is much interest in athletics; the rowing-men, or the baseball or football fellows, will be after him. If they capture him, he will get plenty of work—more than enough—but in one single rut. If he knows something of the allurements of these sports; and desires to steer clear of them and be a reading man; still not to neglect his body; he is at a loss how to go to work. He finds a house full of apparatus, and does not know how to use it. He sees the boating and ball men hard at it, but on their hobbies; and looks about for something else to do. He finds no other class of fellows working with any vim, save those eager to show well as gymnasts. He falls in with these, takes nearly as much work the first day as they do, which is ten times too much for him, quite out of condition as he is. He becomes sore all over for two or three days; has no special ambition, after all, to be a gymnast; and, ten to one, throws up the whole business disgusted.
In the warmer months even the oarsmen and ball-players work out-of-doors; and, except a little brush by the new-comers during the first month or so, he finds the place almost deserted. At the start there was nobody to receive him, place him, and to encourage and invite him on. If naturally persistent, and he sticks to it a while; he gropes about in a desultory way; now trying this and now that; until, neither increasing in size nor strength so fast as he had expected, he prefers to spend his spare hours in more attractive fields; and so drops the gymnasium, as many have done before him.
He has no more given it a fair trial than he would have his chemistry had he treated it in the same way. It is not his fault, for he knew no better. The whole method of bringing up most American boys does almost nothing to fit the average boy for even the simpler work of the gymnasium, let alone its more advanced steps. Often, in the university-gymnasium, you will see fellows actually so weak in the arms that they can hardly get up in the parallel bars, and rest their weight on their hands alone; much less go through them clear to the other end, or climb a rope, or pole, or ladder, hand-over-hand, half-way to the ceiling. It is a suggestive commentary on the way these establishments are conducted that the men so lamentably deficient are by no means all from the new-comers; but often those who have nearly completed their course.
Yet here is a school which, rightly used, would do the average student more good; and would fit him better for his life's duties, than any other one branch in the whole curriculum.
Some years since a son of a lawyer of national reputation, a highly gifted youth, made a brilliant record at one of our best-known colleges. All who knew him conceded him a distinguished future; and yet he was hardly well out of college when he took away his life. Had there been a reasonable, sensible allowance of daily muscular work; had the overtaxed brain been let rest a while; and vigor cultivated in other directions; the rank, the general average, might have been a trifle lower; but an efficient man saved for a long and honorable life. And yet every college has men who are practically following this one's plan; overworking their brains; cutting off both ends of the night; forcing their mental pace; till all but themselves see that they cannot stand it long; and must break down before their real life's race is well begun. However exceptional may be the talents of such a man; does not his course show either dense ignorance of how to take care of himself; or a lack of something which would be worth far more than brilliant talents,—namely, common-sense?
Ought there not to be some department in a college designed to bring round mental development, where the authorities would step in and prevent this suicidal course? Oh, but there are such and such lectures on health. Yes, and in most instances you might as well try and teach a boy to write by merely talking to him; taking care all the time that he have no pen or pencil in his hand. It is a matter of surprise that college faculties are not more alive to the defects of the gymnasium, conducted right under their very eyes. In every other branch they require a definite and specific progress during a given time; an ability to pass successfully periodical examinations, which shall show that progress; and, if the pupil fails, it tells on his general standing; and is an element which determines whether he is to remain in college.
But in the gymnasium there is nothing of the sort; and in many cases the young man need not step into it once during the four years unless he likes. This state of things is partly accounted for by the fact that too many of the professors in our colleges do not know anything about a gymnasium, and what it can do for a man. Indeed, often, if from practical experience they were better up in this knowledge, as well as better acquainted personally with the students, and more interested in doing them good, it would beneficially affect the reputation of their college as a live institution; and their own influence and effectiveness as well.
Often the director himself is not the right sort of man for his place. Either the faculty have no conception of what they need here; or they effectually drive off the man they ought to have by starving him. Professors' salaries are generally small enough; but the Director of the gymnasium seldom gets half so much as the poorest paid of his brother professors. Indeed, the latter do not regard him as an equal at all; and until they do so, with good reason, there is little prospect of improvement in this direction. A doctor as ill up to his work as the average college-gymnasium director would soon be without a patient.
But though there are many skilled directors; at a great gymnasium, with hundreds and even thousands of students, the director alone cannot do the work. His is now no task of merely showing teacher and pupil lighter and simpler exercises for daily use, which can be done by all, right upon the school-floor. He has far more advanced work, nothing less than sizing up each man; and then patching him out, till he is well rounded; strong all over; easy of action; hearty and enduring. It is too much to ask the physical director to do all this alone. He should have a corps of efficient assistants, trained by himself, or other capable teacher; and in every way fit for the work; and fortunately these are easy to be had. The present way of raising most American students is for parents to put financial crutches under them; and, to keep them leaning upon these till they are one, or several, years past twenty-one. Self-reliance is the mother of power. Does this plan brood it? Is this the way to make strong men? Is it the way in which the strongest men our land has yet known were bred? Some of them, Yes. Most of them, No. Washington, the surveyor, at sixteen earning his doubloon a day from Lord Fairfax; Lincoln, rail-splitter and flat-boatman, supporting himself, and helping to support others before he was twenty-one; Franklin; Clay; Vanderbilt; Chase; Garfield; O'Conor; Edison, and a long and brilliant list of those whom we delight to honor—master-workmen in our country's progress. If, at all of our live, stronger colleges, it was the rule, of the parent, that a student must make either the first third of the class; or help to pay his way through college; it would be one of the kindest acts that could be done to him. There would not be half so much time loafed away, and wasted, in college, as there is now; discussing trifles; or the last football match or boatrace; or the coming one;—but doing no work in either.
If six hours a day of real study put splendid Miss Fawcett ahead of every man in great Cambridge University; and she found two whole hours each day for hard athletic work besides; just why should not the average student master his day's ordinary studies in six hours? Door-locked hours, though, where no one else could, upon any pretext get into his room; nor any other idea creep into his mind than those of what he was at. This is the way a real student is made. This is the way the present Lord Chief Justice of England has reached his lofty eminence. An exact schedule of the real way that each minute of a student's waking-hours is spent, would be a revelation often even more suggestive and startling than Franklin's was of his moral life during one short week. The avenues of work for men who mean to help themselves were never so many as to-day. Every college has a steadily increasing number of such men. If, in the larger ones, say twenty fitted themselves to aid the Physical Director; and, supervised by him, to lead the classes; then led them with the snap and vim that the best football captains of Harvard and Yale; Pennsylvania and Cornell; Princeton and Columbia; lead their men on the field of battle; they would do valuable service—easily worth enough to justify their alum-mater in annually receipting their term-bills; and once it became known that that college was thoroughly officered in this field, swelling its ranks in a very gratifying manner.
Nor are the gymnasiums of our cities and towns much better off. Of course his own master, the boy or man who comes to use one finds at once the same things wanting as does the student in the college gymnasium. If he can already raise a heavy dumb-bell over his head with his right hand; he may, and often does, go on increasing his power in this single direction; but in years actually gains little or no size or strength in his other arm, his legs, or any other part of his body. No one stops him, or even gives him an idea of the folly of his course; indeed, no one has the power to do so. Often the place is kept by a man simply to make a living. This secured, his ambition dies. He may be a boxer or an acrobat; or even a fair general gymnast. With a few notable exceptions, we have yet to hear of an instance where the instructor has either devised a plan of class-exercise which has proved attractive; or, in a given time, has brought about a decided increase in size and strength to a majority of his pupils in a specific and needed direction.
College rowing and baseball, while often unquestionably benefiting those who took part in them, have been found to work detrimentally, but in a way, as will be shown in a moment, certainly not expected by the public. The colleges in this country which pay most attention to rowing are Cornell, Yale, Harvard, and Columbia. It is well known that in both Oxford and Cambridge universities the men who row are numbered by hundreds; that over twenty eight-oared crews alone, to say nothing of other classes, are sometimes on the river at once, and that the problem for the "'Varsity" captain is not, as here, to find eight men all fitted for places in the boat, but, out of many fit, to tell which to take. For years the American press has reported the performances of our student oarsmen even oftener and more fully than the English non-sporting papers those of their own oarsmen, so that they have filled a larger space in the public eye. Men naturally thought that the interest among the students themselves was well-nigh universal, and many fathers expressed misgivings about sending sons to institutions where the regular curriculum seemed a secondary matter, and performance in athletic contests the chief thing.
Yet, strange as it may seem, this whole idea is a mistake. Most of the students do take some interest in these contests, but it goes no farther than talking somewhat about them, and viewing them when they come off, and perhaps betting the amount of their term-bills on them. The number who actually take part, either in the racing or the ball matches, or in trying for any length of time for a place are not ten per cent. of the whole number of students—often not five per cent. of them—and they the very ones who are already strong and need athletic work least—chance in them, is ridiculously small. Indeed the number fit to take part, or rather to do high-class work in them is anything but large. In rowing, for instance, England has preparatory schools which, for half a century, have turned out youngsters for the seven-and-a-half-minute dash on Henley water; who have more than once made the great Oxford, Cambridge, London, and Leander Eights very uneasy before a race; and very uneasy all through the race till well over the finish-line—until Eton and Radley are as well-known names on that famous course, and wherever the English tongue is spoken, as are those of their senior sisters, by the Cam, the Thames, and the Isis. But where are the great American preparatory schools? Our Etons and Radleys? Did you ever hear of a Boston Latin School four, or eight? Or of a St. Paul's School one? Or a Hopkinson School, or a Cutler, or a Berkeley? Yet which of all these has not better water near by to-day than either Eton or Radley? Yes, St. Paul has its Halcyon Eight. But what has it ever done? Pulling an oar is almost as manly work for a youngster as pulling at a cigarette; and if any one doubts as to what an American eighteen-year-old can do with a pair of spoon-oars—and against all comers, too—if he will inquire at the University of Pennsylvania for a young fellow named Ten Eyck; and will look up his record a little; he will find out. His fine face and figure suggest a pretty promising man—one that the Provost of Pennsylvania's lusty University, and all the men of his great State, may well be proud of. For a nation is. Whether a few years of good, stiff rowing during one's youth unfits him for his life's work, or not; will be seen later on.
And look a minute at the way we manage our rowing.
Surprising as it is that so few students do much of actual contest, it shows that the present system of college athletic contests, so far as it assumes to benefit the students at large, or even a tithe of them, is a failure. There are a few men who devote much time and attention to severe athletics, more than there is any need of, and become skilled and famous at them; and many more do some work; but very many do little or nothing. Better ideas they doubtless have of what is and what is not creditable performance among the athletes; and also as to the progress that can be made in muscular development by direct and steady work. But that progress and that work they have small share in.
For half a century England has had her Henley—at once the school and battle-field of her greatest gentlemen-oarsmen. Yet where is ours to-day? With fifty good racing-tracks to her one, which one of ours has even yet a National name? Which gleans the flower of the year's oarsmen, and tells us who they are? We have various associations,—with migratory tracks; racing this year at one place; the next at another; little noticed; leaving nothing definite, nothing settled; no way of telling how this year's best crew compared with former ones. What satisfaction is there in that, either to the oarsman or to the public? A few times we have sent crews to Henley. But, before they went, had they proved themselves representative? Had they won great name at home? Did not better crews than they remain here? And are we not losing a valuable opportunity? Why should not we have a chosen course, really National; settled; and in all ways fit to test our picked men; and see who could then row down all the rest? We always have good material, if it were only brought together. We have kept our amateur-oars comparatively free from the taint of evil influences; which have done so much, and rightly, to deaden public interest in professional contests; which, were they kept pure, would delight tens of thousands. It is fortunately easy to provide them with a track, where they can row each other to a stand-still. The college-oarsmen of our land come chiefly from Cornell and Yale; Harvard, Columbia, and the University of Pennsylvania; while many of our non-college amateur oarsmen come from the middle and western States. The colleges named are scarce three hundred miles apart; not much over half a day's ride. Such a track should be near a large city, for the comfortable accommodation of all visitors. Philadelphia, Boston, and New York all have water near; where the Henley course, of one mile five hundred and fifty yards, could be duplicated;—indeed in each case with wider and deeper water—and so fit for more breast-racing. The Schuylkill at Philadelphia is not as straight for the distance as the Henley course; but the curve is not a serious objection. The Charles at Boston is straight; and would hold three Henleys side by side. And would so need fewer heats; while New York has, upon the Passaic and the Hackensack, within a few minutes' ride of the Metropolis, ample straight reaches, ready for precisely the Henley test—leaving out the inconsiderable element of the current—undisturbed by navigation; and always ready for shell-work. If, in early May each year, and why should not our 'Varsity race be in May? instead of having it come at the end of the year when interfering with examinations and interfered with by them—and by many other things? we had the Diamond Sculls for singles; a race for fours; and another for eights, always rowed upon the one track; and a little care taken to get there the best men of the year; it would at once be seen that the winners could rightly represent us in England. Care should be had to meet every requirement of the Henley Stewards as to what is an amateur; for as we would go largely as their guests, we surely should regard the rules which our hosts applied to their own men. The winners here by May 10th could be rowing on the Thames at Henley by May 20th; ample time before the great battle of July 7th and 8th to get acclimated, and in all ways fit. We have not yet had any such satisfactory contest as that would be, from disregard of these few and simple conditions. And Henley is all we are likely to ever try much in England; for the long-distance Putney-to-Mortlake inter-university race is rowed so early, in middle or late March, that its winners will not stay together till our men get over, in July or August, to meet them. Besides, that is a private match—not an open meeting. But Henley suits them; and, by a little arrangement, could suit as as well. And the cordial treatment Yale met at their hands is but a foretaste of what our really representative men may always look for there. One of our tracks, namely, that upon the Passaic, has this advantage over Henley; that already, upon a railroad-track close beside it, the whole way, spectators can watch every inch of the racing. The prizes, and other few things needed, could be readily had. Indeed, a Cornell graduate—Dr. Seaman, of New York City—has already provided a suitable cup, to be rowed for by the eights; and it would be a pleasure to many a man to give the Diamond Sculls, and the other, small but valued trophies. The many rowing-clubs of the great city near by could look to the comfort of competitors; and see that they were ready for the struggle; while the press, ever alert, would see to it that "Honor to whom honor is due," should be the rule in the work done there. And ought not they who—from all the land, had won the right to be our champions abroad; and there to meet the best men of the most athletic race in the world;—ought they not to be rightly proud of the opportunity this would give to win fame and public esteem? More than anything else that has yet arisen between our nation and Great Britain—save in the way both nations have dealt with arbitration, and England's course at the outbreak of the Cuban War—have these same friendly trials of speed, and strength, and stay—qualities every Englishman loves—gone far to breed a friendly feeling between the two nations. As we know each other better, that feeling (which Mr. Lehmann has done so much to foster) will steadily grow. What boy has not fought his own brother? But that same brother owns a warm, sure corner in his heart all the same. Our North and South fought, as only brave men could fight. But let any other man, or nation, lay hand on either now; and he would have both to face,—united as one man. We fought England once; but we got what we wanted. And why should any but good feeling exist between us now? Which other nation speaks our tongue? has our blood in its veins? bears our very names? Our young men could not be better trained to know theirs, and to like them, than in fighting these very battles to a finish, right at their own doors—and you have got to fight, when you back up alongside of Leander, and eight of the best men in England. And what clean, splendid fighting it is; no fouling, no coarseness, no brutality; each man a gentleman; each doing his uttermost, not for money; not alone for his own name; or for his club's; or for his college's; but for his nation's—an ideal test of the best qualities of body, mind, and character of a very unusual man. No wonder, as we shall see upon another page, that England likes to man her Bench with such men. Where better can you learn true fair play than in an open, terrible struggle, in a field where all is fair to all; and only the best can win? Who can know what justice is so well as he who has risked even his very life to win it? To whom else is fair play so dear? Who so keen to see the least unfair advantage had by another? No wonder the Henley and Putney records improve with age! And that one of the sweetest things in a man's whole life is to have won on Henley water.
The average, however, at graduation is better in size, strength, health, vigor, endurance, or stamina than it was a generation ago; and is fitter to stand successfully the wear and tear of life's work. But it is not so far ahead of the last generation either; for, in the latter case, more came from farms, and homes where much manual labor was necessary; while now a greater fraction are from the cities; or are the sons of parents whose occupation is mainly sedentary, or of farmers where machinery and hired help do the heavy work. Yet in that day gymnasiums at the colleges were almost unknown; while now they are becoming general.
Does the gymnasium, then, pay? Yes, like a bathtub—if used, and used sensibly and systematically; but if not, not. Then, as it is used so little, is it worth having?
Suppose the director on the joining of a pupil, recorded, on a page set apart specially, the age, height, general physical characteristics, weight, girth of calf, thigh, hips, waist, lower chest, upper chest—both at rest and inflated chest capacity;—neck, upper arm—extended and drawn up—and the forearm, hand, and wrist; and care is taken to note the time of day when the measurements were made; also a photograph of the man as he then appeared in exercising costume is sometimes—and should always be—taken. Suppose that outside of the ordinary requirements as to method, decorum, order of using apparatus, and so on, the director refused to take any pupil who would not expressly agree to two things: first, to be at the gymnasium, stripped and ready for work, exactly at such a moment, four days out of the seven; second, to obey implicitly the director's orders, both as to what work he should do, and what omit.
Suppose the director could tell, both from the looks and measurements of the man, where he was physically lacking; and that he so arranged his classes that all whose left hands and arms were weaker than their right had left-handed work only until they were equalized up; that weak thighs, calves, abdominal muscles, chests, and backs had special work given them, bringing the desired parts directly into play, lightly as each needed at first, and then gradually working upward, the stronger parts, meanwhile, being at rest. Suppose this were continued until, at the end of the year, or often long before it, it is found that one arm is now as strong as the other, that the gain in girth at almost every measurement is nearly or all of an inch, and at some even two or more inches.
Suppose—a more important thing—a series of exercises, aimed directly to enlarge and strengthen the respiratory power, were given to all; and every one, also, had a few minutes each day of "setting up"; and other work aimed, not so much to add size and strength, as to make the crooked straight; to point out and insist on a proper carriage of the head; the neck; the shoulders; the arms, the whole trunk, and the knees; and to show each pupil what length of step best suited him; and which he ought to take.
Suppose that the director showed that he not only knew what to do all through; but how to do it; and how to interest his pupil in his work, and so promptly won the confidence of those he sought to instruct and benefit. Is there any question that each young man would soon make desirable progress?
What a benefit a gymnasium so conducted would be to any college or university! And yet almost any college, even of limited means, could afford it. Change the plan a little, and make the attendance by all students just as it is in other branches—just as it is at West Point in horseback-practice—compulsory. Give the director a salary adequate to secure a first-class man in his calling—not merely an accomplished gymnast, acrobat, boxer, or fencer, but an educated physician, the peer of any of his brother-members of the faculty; fond of his calling; fond of the field before him; thoroughly acquainted with the plainer kinds of gymnastics and of acrobatic work; and a good boxer; an instructor especially quick in detecting the physical defects in his pupil; in knowing what exercise will cure them; zealous in interesting him, in encouraging him on; what incalculable good he could do! Every student in that College would practically have to be made over. Long before the four years, or even one of them, were through, that instructor would have made all the men erect (as is daily being done with the West Pointer). But his pupils, instead of being like the latter, developed simply in these muscles which his business called into play, would each be well developed all over; would each be up to what a well-built man of his years and size ought to be in the way of strength, and skill, and staying powers, and—a most important thing—would know what he could do, and what he could not; and so would not, as is now every day the case with many, attempt physical efforts long before he was fitted for them.
If he wanted to go into a contest, the director would be his best friend; and would point out to him that the only safe way to get one's heart and lungs used to the violent action which they must undergo in racing, for instance, especially after the racer gets tired; would be by gradually increasing his speed from slow up to the desired pace; instead of, as too often happens, getting up to racing-pace before he is half fit for it.
But he would also show him how one-sided it would make him; developing some parts, and letting others remain idle and fall behind in development; and—more important still—how brief and ephemeral was the fame which he was working for; and the risks of overdoing which it entailed.
Let one college in this land graduate each year a class of which every man has an erect carriage and mien; has the legs and arms, the back and chest, not of a Hercules, not of a prize racer or fighter; not of a trick-performer or stage-acrobat, but of a hale, comely, strong, and well-proportioned man; and see how well it would pay. An hour a day put in in the right way, and at the right work, will effect all this in far less time than four years. The hardest-reading-man can readily spare the time for it, especially if he must. What! would it take him from the thin, cadaverous fellow he too often is, and do all that for him? Beyond all doubt it would. Such vigorous work would soon sharpen his appetite; and he would find that, eat all he liked, he could digest it promptly; and would feel all the better for his generous living. The generous living has fed muscles now vigorously used; they have been enlarged and strengthened: the legs, which never used to try to jump a cubit high, even, once in the whole year; now carry their owner safely over a four-rail fence; and perhaps another rail, or even two of them. The lungs, which were scarcely half expanded, now have every air-cell thoroughly filled, for at least one entire hour daily—an excellent thing for weak lungs. Correct positions of standing, sitting, walking, and running, and lying down being now well known and understood; the lungs get more air into them than formerly, even when their owner is at rest. Another effect of it all is shown in a decidedly more vigorous circulation; and the consequent exhilaration and buoyancy of spirits, no matter whether the work in hand is mental or physical.
But will not this hour's work dull him mentally? It may be proper to digress for a moment and see if it will. Of men who have done just this kind and amount of work, this work aimed at every part of the body, we find no record; simply because, as we have already shown, considerable as the increased interest is in physical culture and development, this plan of reaching all the parts and being just to all, has scarcely been tried. But abundant proof that some physical exercise will not dull the man, but even brighten him, can be had without difficulty. A moment's reflection will show that a mind ever on the stretch must, like a bow so kept, be the worse for it, and that the strain must be occasionally slacked. There are two ways of slacking it. Both the physician and experience tell us that nothing rests a tired brain like sensible, physical exercise, except, of course, sleep.
"When in active use," says Mitchell, "the thinking organs become full of blood; and, as Dr. Lombard has shown, rise in temperature; while the feet and hands become cold. Nature meant that for their work they should be, in the first place, supplied with food; next, that they should have certain intervals of rest to rid themselves of the excess of blood accumulated during their periods of activity; and this is to be done by sleep; and also by bringing into play the physical machinery of the body, such as the muscles—that is to say, by exercise, which flushes the parts engaged in it, and so depletes the brain."[1]
Here, then, some physical exercise will rest his brain, and fit it for more and better work. But this does not necessarily imply so much as is called for in the hour. Happily, however, there is no lack of instances where work, quite as vigorous, though not as well directed, has accompanied mental work of a very high order, and to all appearances has been a help rather than a hinderance. Some of them will be considered presently.
And while the indoor work equalizes the strength, and takes care of the arms and chest; the hour's "constitutional" daily out-of—doors has an especial advantage, in that it insures at least that much out-of—door life and air. Dr. Mitchell says, "When exposure to out-of-door air is associated with a fair share of physical exertion, it is an immense safeguard against the ills of anxiety and too much brain-work. I presume that very few of our generals could have gone through with their terrible task if it had not been that they lived in the open air, and exercised freely. For these reasons I do not doubt that the effects of our great contest were far more severely felt by the Secretary of War and the late President (Lincoln) than by Grant or Sherman."
There need be little fear, then, that a right use of the gymnasium will overdo. No better safeguard against that could be had than a wise director, familiar with the capacities of his pupil, watching him daily, instilling sound principles, and giving him the very work he needs. Under such a tutor a young man who went to college, on receiving his degree, would, if his moral and mental duties were attended to,[2] be graduated, not with an educated mind alone, but an educated body as well; not with merely a bright head, and a body and legs like a pair of tongs. If the history of brave, independent, earnest, pure men goes for anything, it will be found that as the body was healthy and strong, it has in many a pass in life directly aided moral culture and strength, and has kept the man from defiling that body which was meant to be kept sacred.
- ↑ Wear and Tear, p. 54.
- ↑ Of course it is folly to talk of building up the body of any boy or man who by any vices, secret or open, is sapping and undermining its very foundations, whether he knows it or not. For all such, no kinder thing could be done than to have them read Rev. Dr. Stahl's admirable little books, What Every Young Boy Ought to Know, and What Every Young Man Ought to Know. Next to brave Anthony Comstock, who has brought about in many of our States the enactment of a law making it a States-prison offence to show to any one an indecent book, paper, or picture, we do not know of any one who is doing as much good in this important field as this same high-minded editor of the Lutheran Herald, published by the Vir Publishing Co., Philadelphia.