a lecture on physical development, and its relations to mental and spiritual development, delivered before the american institute of instruction, at their twenty-ninth annual meeting, in norwich, conn., august 20, 1858. by s.r. calthrop, of bridgeport, conn., formerly of trinity college, cambridge, england. mdccclix. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1858, by ticknor and fields, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. on motion of g.f. thayer,--_voted_, unanimously, that five thousand copies of mr. calthrop's lecture be printed at the expense of the institute, for gratuitous circulation. lecture. mr. president, ladies and gentlemen:-we have met together to consider the best methods of educating, that is, drawing out, or developing the human nature common to all of us. truly a subject not easy to be exhausted. for we all of us feel that the human nature,--out of whose bosom has flowed all history, all science, all poetry, all art, all life in short,--contains within itself far more than that which has hitherto been manifested through all the periods of its history, though that history dates from the creation of the world, and has already progressed as far as the nineteenth century of the christian era. yes! we all of us feel that the land of promise lies far away in the future, that the goal of human history is yet a long way off. a large portion of this assembly consists of those whose business it is to study human nature in all its various forms, and who have taken upon themselves the task of developing that nature in the youth of america, in that rising generation whose duty it will be to carry out the nascent projects of reform in every department of human interest, and make the thought of to-day the fact of tomorrow. some doubtless there are among this number, who by very nature are born teachers, called to this office, as by a voice from heaven! men, who in spite of foolish detraction, or yet more foolish patronage, understand the dignity, the true nobility of their calling; who know that the office of the teacher is coëval with the world; and also feel with true prophetic foresight, that the world, fifty years hence, will be very much what its teachers intend, by god's blessing, to make it. brothers in a high calling! the speaker, proudly enrolling himself in the number of your noble band, greets you from his heart this day, and invites you to spend a thoughtful hour with him; and to help him, by your best wishes, to unfold in a manner not wholly unworthy of his theme, some small portion of the nature and method of human development. ours is the age of analysis. we begin to see that before we can understand a substance, it is necessary to become acquainted with all its component parts. thus, then, with regard to human nature, we must understand all at least of its grand divisions, before we can comprehend the method of developing it as a whole. let us then say, that there are five grand divisions in human nature,--the physical, the intellectual, the affectional, the moral, and the devotional,--or in other words, that man has body, mind, heart, conscience, and soul. concerning these great divisions, i shall assert, _first_, that they are all mutually dependent upon each other; that if one of them suffer, all the others suffer with it; that man is dwarfed and incomplete, unless he is fully developed in all the five: and, _secondly_, as my special subject, i maintain that physical well-being, health of body, is therefore necessary not only to the complete development of human nature, but that it is also essential to a happy and harmonious development of each one of the four other great divisions of human nature; or in other words, i assert the body has something to do both with the mind, heart, conscience, and soul of man, not merely to all these collectively, but also to each of them separately. first, then, i shall speak on the mutual dependence of the faculties. now, although it is not possible that any faculty should be so completely isolated, as to act without moving any of the rest at all; nevertheless, since a comparative isolation and separation of the faculties is but too common, let us glance through the history of the past, and mark any notable instances of such isolation; and if we find that a one-sided development has always proved a failure, we shall begin to discern the folly of trying such disastrous experiments over again, specially since they would have to be made upon living human beings, upon he young children of the rising generation, who cannot resent our folly, but whose distorted natures will be living proofs of our incapacity, of our impotence as educators, when the experiment tried for the thousand and first time fails yet again, as it always has done, and always will do to the world's end, while human nature remains the same. let us then take a few examples, which are not intended to stand the test of severe criticism, but which are only used as illustrations of the idea which we are now considering. let us then first suppose that the devotional element in man acts alone. the experiment has already been tried. many a hermit in lonely cell or rocky cavern, has cut himself off from the society of men, from action, duty and love, in order that he may be devout without hindrance. how many such men have poured out their souls upon the ground, on barren sand or desert rock, souls which might have watered thousands with the dew of heaven, and all because they made one fatal life-mistake;--they thought, that to pray always meant to be always saying prayers. who could be more devout than saint simeon stylites? who spent all his life upon the top of a tall pillar, absorbed in contemplation, ecstasy, remorse and prayer. let the poet speak for him. "bethink thee, lord? while thou and all the saints enjoy themselves in heaven, and men on earth house in the shade of comfortable roofs, sit with their wives by fires, eat wholesome food and wear warm clothes, and even beasts have stalls, i, 'twixt the spring and downfal of the light bow down one thousand and two hundred times to christ, the virgin mother and the saints: or in the night, after a little sleep, i wake, the chill stars sparkle; i am wet with drenching dews, or stiff with crackling frost, i wear an undressed goatskin on my neck, and in my weak, lean arms i lift the cross, and strive and wrestle with thee till i die. o mercy, mercy, wash away my sin!" a mournful spectacle. devotion excited to madness, while mind, heart, and conscience, all are dumb, and the poor weak body only bears the heavy burdens which the tyrannous soul heaps upon it! devotion, then, needs _conscience_. conscience tells a man that he must act as well as pray. devotion makes the great act of prayer. conscience works out into the actual of every-day life, the ideal of which devotion has conceived. will then devotion and conscience be sufficient for a noble manhood? devotion and conscience alone developed, have ofttimes, in the days that are past, formed some stern old grand inquisitor, torturing the life out of human sinews because he ought. the grand inquisitor's devotion and conscience told him that he ought to advance the holy faith by every engine in his power, and therefore, as he considered that the rack, the thumbscrews, the rope, the fire and the faggot were the best possible engines, he used the same to the utmost of his ability; and thought, alas for humanity! that he was doing god service. the grand inquisitor had devotion, he had conscience, he probably also had nerves of iron; but he could not possibly have had a _heart_. devotion, then, and conscience need a loving, human heart. will these three be sufficient? the picture grows fairer, we begin to feel less pain when we turn away from the stern, dark portrait of the grand inquisitor, which frowns so grimly in the picture gallery of history, and look upon that fair and gentle upturned face, half shaded by the veil that covers her head. that is a nun of the order of saint theresa. the pale, emaciated countenance tells of many a vigil protracted through the long hours of the night; those wild eyes once saw, or thought they saw, the picture of the virgin hanging in her cell smiling on her as she prayed; yea, and have wept many a tear as she repeated her sins over to her confessor, or as she stood by the bed-side of some poor sufferer, while those gentle christian hands smoothed the dying pillow. rest in peace, soul sainted and dear! the tears thou didst once shed, are wiped away now forever; the sins thou didst once bewail, are all forgiven now, for thou hast loved much! but the day of nuns has gone forever. a higher development must be sought for. the nun becomes impossible when we train the _intellect_; devotion says, worship; the mind adds, the lord thy god. the conscience says, do right; the intellect shows what is right. the heart says, love thy fellow-men; the intellect tells the right way of loving them. piety and charity! these are glorious! these are the two angels from heaven which prompt us to help our brothers who need our help; but intellect must show us the way to do it. to take a single instance. piety and charity cannot show us how to drain and ventilate and rebuild the hovels of the poor in new york. no, every spade, every saw, every hammer employed in that most righteous undertaking must be directed by intellect, by science. piety and charity may prompt, but intellect must guide. i know full well that many a woman's heart, guided only by her sacred instinct of loving, acts out the law of right without any conscious questioning of the intellect; that a thousand tender feet carry the gospel of christ along the alleys of new york and london, or along the corridors of the crimean hospital, though even there also woman's wit has to aid woman's heart. the noble heart, the christian love of florence nightingale took her to those eastern shores; this made the voice tender and the hand gentle. but whoso reads the account of what she did, will see that beside these, wit and wisdom, keen discerning of means to ends, ability to see what ought to be done, intellect, reason in short, was necessary in order to make a florence nightingale possible, together with an exhaustless fund of bodily endurance, fortitude and stoicism. thus, then, we find that devotion, conscience, heart, and intellect are all necessary to each other in the harmonious development of human nature. will they be found sufficient for a perfect life? put together a strong soul, a tender conscience, a woman's heart, and a man's intellect, and we have a charlotte bronté,--surely one of the best types of the modern mind. will she find these four noble parts of human nature sufficient for the task of living? let charlotte bronté answer, walking painfully across the moor with hand held hard to beating side, sitting now and then upon a stone to keep herself from falling, wondering why the daylight blinds her so, obliged to give up villette owing to the terrible headaches which it brings on. let charlotte bronté answer, dying before her time at thirty-nine years of age, when the path of fame was just beginning to be bright before her, and the world was just beginning to know how much it wanted her. charlotte bronté, the gifted and the feeble, the lynx-eyed and the blind, so full of glorious strength and pitiable weakness! charlotte bronté, who feels the pressure of every-day life to be as hard as a giant's grasp upon her throat! charlotte bronté cannot tell why she is so unhappy, why she feels like a prisoner in the world,--why earth, our beautiful earth, is like a charnel house to her. and yet we think that the most ordinary passerby could see very satisfactory reasons why charlotte bronté was what she was, and felt what she felt. hollow cheek and faded eye, teach their wisdom to their possessor last of all. the pale-eyed school-girl, who never played along with the other children, never ran and laughed and shouted with the rest, little knew what days and hours and years of dulness, of pain and agony, she was laying up for the future, what a premature grave she was digging for herself. peace be with her, her toil is over; it is now three years since heaven received in charlotte bronté one angel more. intellect, then, needs _body_. come, then, and see me build a man! a calm, silent devotion, a conscience pure and reverent, a heart manful and true, an intellect clear and keen, a frame of iron,--with these will we dower our hero, and call him washington! from me washington needs no eulogy. free america is at once his eulogy and his monument! it is useless to say more. every one here feels in his heart a higher praise than can be uttered by the tongue. but let me ask you, what would washington's qualities of mind and heart have availed his country, unless the manly strength, the frame of iron had been added? a good man he might have been, a patriot he surely would have been; but the father of his country, never! the soul that trusted in god, the conscience that felt the omnipotence of justice and right, the heart that beat for his country's weal alone, the mind that thought out her freedom, was upborne by the body that knew no fatigue, by the nerves that knew not how to tremble. washington had to endure physical fatigue enough to have killed three ordinary men. and how well did his youth prepare him for a life of protracted toil. hear his biographer irving. "he was a self-disciplinarian in physical as well as mental matters, and practised himself in all kinds of athletic exercises, such as running, leaping, pitching quoits, and tossing bars. his frame even in infancy had been large and powerful, and he now excelled most of his playmates in contests of agility and strength. as a proof of his muscular power, a place is still pointed out at fredericksburg, near the lower ferry, where, when a boy, he threw a stone across the river. in horsemanship, too, he already excelled, and was ready to back, and able to manage, the most fiery steed. traditional anecdotes still remain of his achievements in this respect." some of you have doubtless seen in thackeray's 'virginians,' that young warrington found that he was more than a match for the english jumpers, as indeed, writes he, he ought to be, as he could jump twenty-one feet and a half, and no one in virginia could beat him, except colonel g. washington. it is needless to say that i do not mean to exalt the body at the expense of the higher faculties. i only maintain that the rest are incomplete without the physical element; in which indeed all the other powers dwell, and by means of which they are more or less clearly manifested. there may, of course, be vast physical energy without any corresponding development of mind or soul, as any blacksmith or prize fighter could tell us. and further, there may be a character, in which some of the higher qualities may exist in great perfection, coupled, too, with mighty force of body, and yet the character may be incomplete. take, as an instance, another of america's great men. daniel webster! perhaps the most cavernous head, set upon the strongest shoulders, which has appeared upon the planet, since the soul of socrates went back to god. daniel webster! strong mind in strong body, leader and king of men, deep-chested, lion-voiced, whose words of power moved men as the wind moves the sea, whose eloquence had a physical energy, a bodily grandeur about it like to that of no other man. daniel webster! pride of all americans; to you i leave it to say where he was weak. it belongs not to me, a stranger, to pluck one laurel from that stately brow; his own brethren must do it, with reluctant and half remorseful hands, pitying the errors which marred so grand a character, but saying of him as i would say of england, webster, with all thy faults, i love thee still. our analysis of human character, necessarily one-sided and imperfect, is now ended. it remains for us to ask, what are its bearings upon american education? how far does american education fulfil the wants of human nature, and wherein does it disregard them? the title of my lecture tells plainly enough, where i think that the great deficiency is found; a deficiency which reacts upon both mind and morals, and ofttimes utterly defeats the best efforts of clergymen and teachers. i assert, then, that, in america, the body is almost entirely neglected. thirty thousand clergymen, from as many pulpits, advocate the claims of the conscience and the soul. a hundred thousand teachers are busied throughout the length and breadth of the land in training the intellect, while a man could almost count on his fingers the number of those engaged in training the body. the intellectual training which the masses receive, is the highest glory of american education. if i wanted a stranger to believe that the millennium was not far off, i would take him to some of those grand ward schools in new york, where able heads are trained by the thousand. when i myself entered them, i was literally astonished. when i looked at the teachers who instructed that throng of young souls, i could not help saying to myself, ah! dear friends, it would do you good to know what i feel just now. i can feel the very blessing of god descending on your labors, just as if i could see it with mine eyes. what piety have been at work here, in the construction of this colossal system of education! what inspired energy was needed to work it out! what charity is necessary to carry it on! many a teacher saw i there, unknown, may-be, to all the world, carrying on her work with noble zeal and earnestness, to whom the quick young brains around bore abundant testimony. when i saw them, i blessed them in my heart, i magnified mine office, and said to myself, i, too, am a teacher. i spent four or five days doing little else than going through these truly wonderful schools. i stayed more than three hours in one of them, wondering at all i saw, admiring the stately order, the unbroken discipline of the whole arrangements, and the wonderful quickness and intelligence of the scholars. that same evening i went to see a friend, whose daughter, a child of thirteen, was at one of the ward schools. i examined her in algebra, and found that the little girl of thirteen could hold her own with many of a larger growth. did she go to school to-day? asked i. no, was the answer, she has not been for some time, as she was beginning to get quite a serious curvature of the spine, so now she goes regularly to a gymnastic doctor. i almost feel ashamed to criticize such noble institutions as the schools of new york; but truth compels me to do this. hitherto, nothing whatever has been done to train the bodies of the tens of thousands who are educated there. all that is done is excellent, is wonderful, but fearful drawbacks come into play, in the shape of physical weakness, and positive male-formation of body. the only remedy which can be devised, i think, in a crowded city like new york, where it is impossible to get open ground, is to have large gymnasiums attached to every ward school, and daily exercise therein should form an essential part of the education there. the importance of this to new york cannot be estimated, and i heard with joy, that a gymnasium was established in at least one of the ward schools, and i found out that the teachers of others were alive to this most crying need. i read too, with very great pleasure, that a mr. sedgwick of new york was appointed to deliver a lecture on the importance of physical education, at the next meeting of the teachers association, in that state; and indeed every one begins to feel that something must be done, and that quickly. miss beecher's book enlightened most people on this subject, and reform is already inaugurated. it is well that it is so, or the race would dwindle away before our very eyes. listen to some serio-comic verse upon this subject, taken out of your lecturer's portfolio. it is an address to america, dictated by an ancient sage:- 'oh! latest born of time, the wise man said, a mighty destiny surrounds thy head; great is thy mission, but the puny son lacks strength to finish what the sires begun; thy hapless daughters breathe the poison'd air, fair they may be, but fragile more than fair; they know not, doom'd ones, that the air of heaven, for breathing purposes to man was given; they know not half the things which life requires, but melt their lives away where stoves and fires, and furnace issuing from the realms beneath, distils through parlor floors its poisonous breath. sooner or later must the slighted air and exercise take vengeance on the fair. ah! one by one i see them fade and fall, both old and young, fair, dark or short or tall, till one stupendous ruin wraps them all.' one can sometimes, in a smiling way, give utterance to truths which seem hard and stern when spoken in grim earnest. let us see whether we cannot find some allegory to represent what we mean. some time ago, i read a tale which related that a certain gentleman was, once on a time, digging a deep hole in his garden. he had, as i myself had in my younger days, a perfect passion for digging holes, for the mere pleasure of doing it; but the hole which he was now digging was by far the deepest which he had ever attempted. at last he became perfectly fascinated, carried away by his pursuit, and actually had his dinner let down to him by a bucket. well, he dug on late and early, when just as he was plunging in his spade with great energy for a new dig, he penetrated right through, and fell down, down to the centre of the earth. to his astonishment he landed upon the top of a coach which was passing at the time, and soon found himself perfectly at home, and began to enter into conversation with the passenger opposite to him, a very gentlemanly looking man enveloped entirely in a black cloak. he soon found out that the country into which his lot had fallen was a very strange one. its peculiarities were thus stated by his gentlemanly fellow-passenger. "ours, sir," said he, "is called the country of skitzland. all the skitzlanders are born with all their limbs and features perfect; but when they arrive at a certain age, all their limbs and features which have not been used drop off, leaving only the bones behind. it is rather dark this evening, or you would have seen this more plainly. look forward there at our coachman, he consists simply of a stomach and hands, these being the only things he has ever used. those two whom you see chatting together are brothers in misfortune; one is a clergyman, the other a lawyer; they have neither of them got any legs at all, though each of them possess a finely developed understanding; and you cannot help remarking what a massive jaw the lawyer has got. yonder is mr.----, the celebrated millionaire, he is just raising his hat; you see he has lost all the top part of his head, indeed he has little of his head left, except the bump of acquisitiveness and the faculty of arithmetical calculation. there are two ladies, members of the fashionable world, their case is very pitiable, they consist of nothing whatever but a pair of eyes and a bundle of nerves. there are two members of the mercantile world, they are munching some sandwiches, you see, but it is merely for the sake of keeping up appearances; as i can assure you, from my own personal knowledge, that they have no digestive organs whatever. as for myself, i am a schoolmaster. i have been a hard student all my life, at school and at college, and moreover i have had a natural sympathy with my fellow-men, and so i am blessed with a brain and heart entire. but see here." and he lifted up his cloak, and lo! underneath, a skeleton, save just here! "see, here are the limbs i never used, and therefore they have deserted me. all the solace i now have consists in teaching the young children to avoid a similar doom. i sometimes show them what i have shown you. i labor hard to convince them that most assuredly the same misfortune will befall them which has happened to me and to all the grown-up inhabitants; but even then, i grieve to say, i cannot always succeed. many believe that they will be lucky enough to escape, and some of the grown-up inhabitants pad themselves, and so cheat the poor children into the belief that they are all right, though all the elder ones know better. you will now perceive the reason why all the gentlemen you see wear such tight pantaloons, they pretend that it is fashionable, but in reality it is in order to prevent their false legs from tumbling out. surely my case is miserable enough; my only hope consists in the idea of educating the rising generation to do better. no doubt it is easy to persuade them to do so in the country from which you come, but i assure you," added he with a heartfelt sigh, "that it is sometimes very hard to do so here. nearly all of us, then, have lost something of our bodies. some have no head, some no legs, some no heart, and so on; the less a man has lost, the higher he ranks in the social scale; and our aristocracy, the governing body, consists of the few individuals who have used all their faculties, and therefore now possess them all." at this moment a dreadful earthquake broke out, and an extempore volcano shot the gentleman who had listened to this interesting, narration right up to the crust of the earth again, and by a strange and fortunate chance shot him up into the very hole which he had been digging, and he discovered himself lying down at the bottom of the hole, feeling just as if he had awakened from a dream; and to his surprise, heard distinctly the voice of his wife crying out from the top, "come, come, dear, you're very late, and supper is getting quite cold!" the name of the country of skitzland translated into the vulgar tongue is the planet earth, and america is one of the portions thereof. if we were to look round in a circuit of a hundred miles, how many of the skitzland aristocracy should we find, think you? what a dropping off of limbs and features there would be, if the letter of the law of skitzland were carried out! but it is absolutely certain that, this is in effect the law of nature, which does not act, it is true, all in a moment; but which slowly and truly tends to this. the hindoo ties up an arm, for years together, as a penance, thinking thereby he does brahma service; the limb with fatal sureness withers away, and rots. the prisoner in solitary confinement has his mind and faculties bound, fettered and tied, and by a law as fixed as that which keeps the stars in their places, the said prisoner's mind grows weaker, feebler, less sane, day by day. school children are confined six long hours in a close school-room, sitting in one unvarying posture, their lungs breathing corrupted air, no single limb moving as it ought to move, not the faintest shadow of attention being paid to heart, lungs, digestive organs, legs or arms, all these being bound down, and tied as it were; and so, by the stern edict of heaven, which, when man was placed upon earth, decreed that the faculties unused should weaken and fail, we see around us thousands of unhealthy children whose brains are developed at the expense of their bodies; the ultimate consequence of which will be, deterioration of brain as well as body. what is the remedy for all this? i have before stated that in large crowded cities, gymnastic training, systematically pursued _as a study_, is the only thing which seems possible to be done, and most assuredly will be beneficial wherever it is introduced. but there is a different method of physical education, which can be pursued either exclusively, or in association with gymnastics, which can be followed up either in the country, or in towns, where playgrounds can be obtained. this is the method which i have invariably pursued myself, namely, the systematic pursuit of health and strength by all manner of manly sports and games. i myself learnt to play and love these games at school and at college. i have given them now nearly four years' trial in my school, and every day convinces me more and more of their beneficial results. i cannot tell how much physical weakness, how much moral evil we have batted, and bowled, and shinnied away from our door; but i do know that we have batted and bowled away indolence, and listlessness, and doing nothing, which i believe is the devil's greatest engine; and i also know that the enthusiasm of the boys in these games never dies out, their enjoyment never flags, for these games supply the want of the boys' natures, and keep their thoughts from straying to forbidden ground. now these games are the very thing which that portion of mankind called the sporting world, have always loved and cherished. they have infused the love of these games into the very bones of englishmen, and who knows how much good england owes to them! let us then overlook for a while the religious world, the commercial world, the literary world, for they do not contain what we seek now, and let us look at this poor sister world, a world which seldom finds itself in such good company. each of these worlds has its work; the one we now have to do with, the sporting world, is a world probably as much decried, and with as much reason, as any. but see how pertinaciously this world will persist in coming up to the surface wherever a community of men may be. see how rigorously the puritans tried to put down, or rather _squeeze_ this heinous tendency out of human nature! but they did not succeed, though goodness knows, they tried hard enough. yet it has come up again, and lo! it is now as vigorous as ever. friends! i am finding fault with the puritans in the very midst of their descendants. but what greater compliment could i pay these old puritans than this? for their greatest glory is, that they left to their descendants the precious legacy of free thought! and so deeply imbedded is this in the very bones of the race, that they will gladly hear a stranger criticize and even condemn, a portion of the puritan mind: knowing full well, that the fabric which they builded on the shores of this continent is sufficient to bear witness to the real manhood that was in them. but what was the reason of their failure? simply they were trying to drive out nature with a pitchfork, and she of course will perpetually keep coming back. so we say of this world, the sporting world, so liable to abuse, and so unsparingly abused, what is true of all the worlds, and that is, that it would be well for mankind, if they were to bestow a little thought upon the demands of this, as well as of the other worlds; and not be content to ignore wholly a thing the value of which they do not understand;--how the sporting world has witnessed, does witness, and will forever witness, for a fact in human nature, which no amount of pressure will ever squeeze out of human nature, and that is, the necessity which human beings feel for amusement, and for open air exercise, not exercise merely, but hearty, joyous, blood-stirring exercise, with a good amount of pleasant emulation in it. this, then, is what cricket and boating, battledore and archery, shinney and skating, fishing, hunting, shooting, and baseball mean, namely, that there is a joyous spontaneity in human beings; and thus nature, by means of the sporting world, by means of a great number of very imperfect, undignified, and sometimes quite disreputable mouthpieces, is perpetually striving to say something deserving of far nobler and clearer utterance; something which statesmen, lawgivers, preachers, and educators would do well to lay to heart. my children, she would say, are not intended to be made working machines; they have capacities for joy, for spontaneous action, for doing some pleasant thing for the mere sake of doing it, without any regard to gain or profit, whether it be of money or anything else; and by obeying my dictates, they will find riches which they never sought for, will obtain gifts they never asked. why, a fast young man at an english university too often learns no good thing there, except to play a capital game at cricket, have a good seat upon a horse, pull an oar till he drops, and to have a general belief in the omnipotence of pluck! and i can tell you that is no bad education too, as far as it goes. i am perfectly well aware that fast young men too often learn other and worse things than these, learn to drink, and swear, and debauch, and to spend as fast as possible in riotous living the manhood and strength which god has given them. but this i know and publicly declare, that it is this love of manly sports which keeps the fast young men of england from utter corruption and decay. such men, renowned in their school and college days as good cricketers, oarsmen or riders, were the men that made alma, inkermann, and balaklava possible; who have just done battle at fearful odds on the burning plains of india, on behalf of helpless women and slaughtered babies; and those whom their strong right arm could not save, it was able to avenge! the iron endurance which they had gained in many a bloodless contest, stood them in good stead there, when all their manhood was needed, if ever it was; and over those that nobly died there, methinks that i can see the genius of england weep bitter tears, and thus speak with deep self-reproach:--"ah! sons of mine! loved and early lost! ye whom i could not teach, whom no one in all my broad lands could teach, how to unite the virtuous, wise and holy soul, together with the soul joyous and free! alas! for me, that ye had to die, before i could know how noble ye were! that your cold bodies, fallen on the field, wounds all in front, and none behind, would be so many poor dumb mouths to tell me of the untold wealth which i have in my children, those very ones who too often are nought but shame and grief to me!" dear, noble old england! if god will teach her this wisdom, her old heart will beat on bravely for a thousand years to come. the preponderance of the animal, the bodily element, produces fast young men; and fast young men, and boys tending to become such, are the problem of society, the terror of the peace-loving, money-making world, and the scandal of the educator, as he himself feels well enough his own impotence in dealing with them. i have seen many an educator who has felt that he ought to get at these young rebellious forces, but who does not know the way, and despairingly wonders why he cannot do so. friend! i would say, no man can influence another, unless he has something akin to him. what do you think gives these blacklegs, men of not a tithe of your force and talent, such power over them? why, it is community of nature, interests in common. but what interests have you in common with a fast young man? you know nothing that he knows, you admire nothing that he admires; and until you do really get a community of interest with him, you will be wide asunder as the poles, and the fast young man will remain, as he has hitherto remained, the one disgraceful problem which modern education cannot solve. if an educator or college tutor wishes to influence this class of his scholars, or if a clergyman wishes to gain the souls of this part of his congregation, the one most difficult to deal with, let him join with them in some manly game, and let him assuredly know that whatever true manhood he has will stand him in good stead, and nothing else: nothing but real vital religion, real nobleness of character will be of any use in the cricket-field or the row-boat; and this will hold its own here as well as elsewhere. once, then, establish a community of interest on any one subject with young men, and you open to yourself a door, by which all good may enter. nature, dear friends, makes nothing in vain, and it is of such infinite importance that strength of limb, readiness of eye and hand, physical vigor in short, should be transmitted from generation to generation, that she keeps producing fast young men, in spite of the thousand excesses which they commit, and will do so, until the ablest and wisest human minds take the matter in hand, and see to it that this part of human nature has its proper and legitimate food, guided by mind, thought, and reverence, instead of being allowed to run riot in all manner of wantonness. the sporting world, then, with its manly games and manly sports, gives us the means which are needed by the community at large for physical education; and the future educators of the country must be taught to love these manly games at school and at college, and then they will be able to disseminate them; whereas, at present, educators in this country are almost entirely ignorant of any manly games whatever. "but are not these games very dangerous," asks a careful mamma; "don't you find that boys get hurt very much by them? i have heard of some one who got his teeth knocked down his throat by them. somebody else got his head hurt at shinney and so that was put a stop to, i believe, at mr.----'s school." such mammas, doubtless, put into the hands of their children some good little book, with a narration of this sort. little johnny was told by his mamma not to climb trees. he was a good boy, and generally obedient. but one day he was in the garden of one of his schoolfellows, who asked him to climb a cherry tree; he forgot his mother's command, and went up, but after he had climbed nearly to the top his foot slipped, and down he tumbled through the branches on to the ground. he cried very much, and could not move, so they had to put him upon a shutter and carry him home. the doctor found that his leg was broken; the pain was dreadful when he had it set, &c. &c.; the drama ending by johnny throwing his arms round his mother's neck, and declaring that if he ever got well, he would never disobey his dear, dear mother any more! the good people who write these edifying stories never seem to think whether it was wise for mamma to forbid johnny to climb a tree. monkeys are never forbidden to do so, and i seldom hear anything of their falling off. poor people's children climb trees, and there does not seem to be an extraordinary increase of juvenile mortality on this account. what should you say if some hard-hearted person, myself for instance, were to say to the dear mother of little johnny, "dear madam, you yourself, i grieve to say, were the cause of johnny's accident; you have habitually prevented him from doing anything which would quicken his perceptions and strengthen his limbs. he must not soil his pinafore, he must not get his hands dirty, and above all he must not play at any games which make his hair untidy, or tear his clothes. in fact, you have forbidden him to do precisely those things which nature prompted him to do. he has generally been very obedient, you say, and therefore his bodily powers have become weaker instead of stronger. well, the temptation came, the unused and untrustworthy limbs were summoned to act, his consciousness of doing wrong enfeebled him still further, and made them still more nervous. he went up the tree, and the natural consequence was, that he fell." this, in substance, is the answer to all questions of this class. i have played at cricket or shinney, or boated, since i was nine years old. during the last three years and a half, i have played at one or the other almost every day. i have played at shinney, or hockey, as we call it, all through the winter, through snow a foot deep, and when the thermometer was below zero; i have played at cricket in summer with the thermometer at 90, and i have never yet seen one serious accident. the fact is, that i have a theory that nature loves young men and boys, and love to aid them in their sports. she sends her ice and snow to educate them and make them hardy, while we are sitting by the stove and abusing the weather. she won't let them be hurt half as much by a blow or a fall, as older people who do not love her half as well. she breaks the young one's fall, and herself puts the plaster on his little fingers. she is delighted at every conquest that these young children of hers make over herself, just like some big boxer she stands, who is teaching his boy to box. he feints and threatens and looks big, but who so pleased as he when the young one gets in his one two! again, the danger is little or nothing to the daring and courageous. the fellow that isn't afraid of the ball, is scarcely ever hurt. he defends himself with eye and hand. the coward is the one most likely to get hurt. i think that there is just enough risk in these games to engender a manly contempt for pain, and a bold handling of a danger. if the cricket ball were a soft affair, it would be a game for babies not boys. let us then take a hint from the sporting world, and turn to the use of the many that which has formed the only redeeming feature of a few. the good that these manly games do, should not be confined to a small class, but should be diffused among the whole community, for the sporting world has something to say to all of us. it rouses the scholar from his desk, shakes him, and tells him that much study is a weariness to the flesh, and that the fields are alive with song. out then he must come, and leave his musty books. it comes to the business man in the crowded city, and babbles of green fields, nudges mr. sparrowgrass with its elbow, and tells him to take mrs. s. and the children into the country. it comes to mr. fezziwig at christmas time, and tells him to let the young men in his shop have a jolly time of it, put by their work, listen to the fiddle, and join the dance. ay, and the dream of those half-forgotten days comes over scrooge, the miserly, miserable scrooge, and wakes up something like a soul in him. it comes to colonel newcome, and bids him go to charter house school, and take his boy out for a holiday. this same spirit came to the ancient greek in drama, dance and game, and with him was set to music, and consecrated to the gods, to apollo the ever young, to pallas the wise, to bacchus the joy-giver. it came to the stern old roman with his saturnalia, when for once in all the year the slave and the plebeian might speak their minds without fear. it came to the dark-eyed hebrew with his feasts of tabernacles, his feast of the harvest and the vintage, and over his joyaunce a sacred shadow rested, as of one who was over these things, who both made and consecrated the joy. spirit of joy! wide as the world! offspring of heaven! that descendest with airs redolent of thy native home, and comest to give to the toil-worn brickmakers of the earth a little rest! forgive us, foolish dwellers in the clay, if ofttimes we take thy festal garlands, and drag them in the mire! drunk with the wine of thy pleasures, we turn thy gifts to ashes and to mourning. come thou, nevertheless! and stay not, turn not away for our folly, come with thy love-light, and smile-light, and make the whole earth green with thy summer of delight. it were a theme worthy of the place and time, if we could sketch out the progress of mankind; to show how god laid the foundations of the human race in the barbaric ages, strong, savage human bodies being the stones thereof; how in due order, order as sure and stately as that of the geologic eras, arose the roman and the greek, the types of full developed body and mind together: how in the fullness of time christianity revealed the mighty powers of heart, conscience and soul, which before were lying dormant in the human race; so that now at last upon us has fallen the task of developing the whole of man,--body, mind, heart, conscience and soul. but my time, if not your patience, fails me: so i leave it as a hint for future thought, and will in conclusion utter a few words of courage and hope for mankind, which each event of to-day seems to strengthen and enlarge. yes, it is no longer fitting, that for the future we should have few hopers and many fearers. nay, rather let us all join hands to-day, and form a great electric cable of hope, that shall stretch from sea to sea, from shore to shore. for it is certain, then, that the planet upon which god has placed us, is absolutely well fitted for the development of the human race. the more science investigates, the more wonderful seems the adaptation of human nature to the world in which it is placed. the more refined a man becomes, the more delicate his insight into nature, the more satisfied, the more overjoyed is he with her exhaustless charms. it is only our sin, our folly, our ignorance, which perpetually befools us, and robs us of our inheritance. when the great coming race, prophesied of so long, shall at last inhabit the earth, they shall see no more glorious stars, no bluer atmosphere, than we do to-day; the moon shall pour forth no more silver from her bounteous horn; the sun shall lavish his golden rays no more freely, than he does to-day. but yet the whole world shall be unimaginably brighter and more beautiful to that crowning race. and why? because their natures shall be in tune with the outward universe; their eyes and ears, and all their senses, shall be unimaginably more acute than ours; their bodies shall be perpetual sources of joy to them, and their souls shall be awake to knowledge, truth and love. if our eyes were endowed with magnifying powers equal to that of some colossal telescope, how would the dome of heaven expand into inconceivable dimensions, the stars would be seen to be scattered along the sky like the sands upon the sea-shore. each bright particular star would be magnified a thousand times, seeming vastly larger, and yet vastly more distant. the whole concave of heaven then would appear a thousand times larger than it does to our eyes, that is, it would appear a thousand times over more like its real size, though even then, eyes thus grandly gifted would fall immeasurably short of the reality of the universe which lies in the bosom of god! now that great race of the future shall have their nature so in tune with things, and their spiritual conceptions so enlarged, that the great world shall be realized in its vastness, so much more vividly than we can conceive of it, that it shall be as if their material eye were exalted to the power of lord rosse's telescope. put together the fragments of men that we have amongst us to-day,--the physical joy in existence of the western hunter, the intellectual keenness of the man of science, the love of nature of the artist or poet, the love for each little bird and insect of the naturalist, the justice of a washington, the love for god and man of a florence nightingale, and then we gain some glimpses of the men of the future whom god has willed shall possess the planet at last. for assuredly the race is safe, though nations or individuals may fail and perish. safe, because god has not built the planet in vain; safe, because his long patience shall have its full satisfaction at the last. how shall these things be? god will give this blessing to human labor directed by truth and love. from partial and one-sided cultivation of human nature, partial and one-sided results can alone ensue. the commencement of this glorious era will date from the first complete education of all the manifold nature of man. the grand work once inaugurated, by the wondrous law of hereditary descent, natures completer and nobler on all sides will be the heritage of the next generation, by virtue of their birth, and so on in stately progression each generation shall expand and transmit a larger power to the generation that succeeds it; and at last the grand universe of matter shall put the world of man to shame no longer, but man with god's image shining through him, shall be seen to be worthy of the glorious nature in whose bosom he dwells. see to it then, educators! that young human nature has its due. see to it that conscience and the soul have their rightful supremacy, that intellect and sweet human affection walk hand in hand. and lastly, see to it, educators! that these young bodies have their due. learn for yourselves numberless manly sports and games, and resolutely continue to teach them and practise them yourselves in the midst of your scholars. love open air and exercise yourselves first; this love will be contagious, and will communicate itself to those around you. no atom of true dignity will be lost, and a priceless fund of good humor will be gained for yourself, and a mutual good feeling will be established forever between you and your scholars. do this, and we shall no longer hear of schoolmasters becoming old men before they are forty; but the schoolmaster will be known as the youngest looking, healthiest and happiest man in the district. upon us, my friends, more than upon any other class of men, this great, this lamentably neglected duty devolves. we are to see to it that young limbs and lungs have their rights; we must make men understand that it will be a sin against god, if they do not have their rights; a sin, whose punishment is as certain as the law of gravitation. and more, it must be our task to make men understand the inevitable blessing which is sure to descend upon the keeping of god's commandments written upon the body. schoolmaster in country village! whose two dollars per diem are begrudged and shaved down by some committee of boobies! whose lot, may-be, is additionally blessed by the privilege of boarding out among the exceedingly willing inhabitants of the district! upon thee no foolish word of pity shall fall from lips of mine! thee no wise man will pity, but rather bid thee be of good cheer and play the man! witness thou, in thy little corner of the great world, for all human nature. see thou that each part has its due, in the little flock of which thou art shepherd. be faithful to thy sacred trust, and eyes yet unborn shall shine with the truth-light which thou didst first impart. yea, generations shall rise up and call thee blessed! by thee the young nerves, and limbs, and brain shall be loved, and pitied, and understood. thou, like another greatheart, shalt shield them from ignorance and wrong. to thee no word of man can matter much. whether thou be praised or despised of men, is to thee a small thing; for in the calm eventide, when the day's work is over, thou hast ears to listen to the master's voice, saying to his servant, well done! note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 13574-h.htm or 13574-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/3/5/7/13574/13574-h/13574-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/3/5/7/13574/13574-h.zip) keeping fit all the way how to obtain and maintain health, strength and efficiency by walter camp illustrated with many photographs taken under the direction of the author 1919 [illustration: three pioneers in senior service work left to right: colonel ullman, president, chamber of commerce, new haven, connecticut; ex-president william h. taft, and walter camp.] table of contents introduction an american citizen's creed part i. keeping fit all the way chapter i chapter ii chapter iii chapter iv chapter v chapter vi part ii. the daily dozen chapter vii chapter viii chapter ix chapter x chapter xi chapter xii chapter xiii introduction the number of men who "keep fit" in this country has been surprisingly few, while the number of those who have made good resolutions about keeping fit is astonishingly large. reflection upon this fact has convinced the writer that the reason for this state of affairs lies partly in our inability to visualize the conditions and our failure to impress upon all men the necessity of physical exercise. still more, however, does it rest upon our failure to make a scientific study of reducing all the variety of proposals to some standard of exceeding simplicity. present systems have not produced results, no matter what the reason. hence this book with its review of the situation and its final practical conclusions. an american citizen's creed i believe that a nation should be made up of people who individually possess clean, strong bodies and pure minds; who have respect for their own rights and the rights of others and possess the courage and strength to redress wrongs; and, finally, in whom self-consciousness is sufficiently powerful to preserve these qualities. i believe in education, patriotism, justice, and loyalty. i believe in civil and religious liberty and in freedom of thought and speech. i believe in chivalry that protects the weak and preserves veneration and love for parents, and in the physical strength that makes that chivalry effective. i believe in that clear thinking and straight speaking which conquers envy, slander, and fear. i believe in the trilogy of faith, hope, and charity, and in the dignity of labor; finally, i believe that through these and education true democracy may come to the world. part i keeping fit all the way chapter i it has long been a startling fact regarding americans that so soon as their school-days were over they largely abandoned athletics; until, in middle life, finding that they had been controverting the laws of nature, they took up golf or some other form of physical exercise. the result of such a custom has been to lower the physical tone of the race. golf is a fine form of exercise, but in an exceedingly mild way. no one claims that it will build up atrophied muscles nor, played in the ordinary way, that it will induce deep breathing; nor, except in warm weather, that it will produce any large amount of skin action. hence it is easy to imagine the condition of the man who at the end of his 'teens gave up athletics, and then did nothing of a physically exacting nature until he took up golf. now if in addition to his pastime and relaxation he will do something in the way of setting-up exercises to open up his chest and make his carriage erect, thus enabling his heart and lungs to have a better chance, he will more than double the advantages coming from his golf. he will then walk more briskly and will gain very much in physical condition. nature a hard mistress one thing that our middle-aged men, and in fact many of us who have not yet reached that way mark, have entirely forgotten is that nature is very chary of her favors. our primal mother is just and kind, but she has little use for the man who neglects her laws. when a man earns his bread by the sweat of his brow she maintains him in good physical condition. when he rides in a motor-car instead of walking she atrophies the muscles of his legs, hangs a weight of fat around his middle, and labels him "out of the running." if he persists in eating and not physically exerting himself, she finally concludes that he is cumbering the earth, and she takes him off with bright's or diabetes. it does not do him any good to tell her that he was too busy to walk and so had to ride, or that he had no time for exercising; she simply pushes him off to make way for a better man. the vicious circle nature has given man two ways (outside of the action of the bowels) of getting rid of impurities, one by means of the skin and the other by means of the kidneys. it is like a motor-car with two cylinders. if one stops the other will run on for a time, but its wear is increased. when a man stops exercising and ceases to carry off by means of his skin some of these impurities, he throws an additional load on his kidneys. when a man goes without exercise and begins to accumulate fat, that fat gradually deposits itself and not alone about the waist; it invades the muscular tissue all over his body even to his heart. as this accumulation grows there come with it a muscular slackness and a disinclination to exercise. the man is carrying greater weight and with less muscular strength to do it. no wonder that when he tries to exercise he gets tired. he is out of condition. hence he begins to revolve in a vicious circle. he knows that he needs exercise to help take off the fat, but exercise tires him so much, on account of the fat, that he becomes exhausted; usually he gives it up and lets himself drift again. as his abdomen becomes more pendulous his legs grow less active. as his energy wanes his carriage becomes more slack. he shambles along as best he can, if he is positively obliged to walk. his feet trouble him. altogether he is only comfortable when riding. when he has reached this state the insurance companies regard him as a poor risk, and instead of enjoying the allotted threescore and ten years of real life he falls short by a decade; and even then the last ten years are but "labor and sorrow." as the years go on the first thing that a man begins to lose through the inroads of age is his resistive power. he may seem in perfect health so long as there is no special change of conditions, but when he is placed in a position where he needs his resistive forces to throw off disease, he finds that he cannot command them. still another change is continually taking place; as the man goes on in life, little by little the control of his muscles leaves him. instead of running about as does the youth, recklessly and with never a thought of being tired, he begins to favor himself by walking in the easiest possible way, until soon he is balancing on one foot and then tilting forward on the other, making no muscular effort and preferring the motor-car or the trolley whenever it is at hand. as an inevitable result, some of the muscles atrophy, and even those that do not deteriorate speedily discover that they have no master, and they act when and how they please. the man who is continually giving orders to subordinates and having other men do things for him, soon finds that he is unable to accomplish things for himself; then, if he is thrown on his own resources, he is helpless. take a group of men, executives, who for a dozen years have been ordering other men about instead of obeying orders, and you will find that for the most part these captains of industry have lost 50 per cent. of their muscular control. on the other hand, the man who is taking orders retains command over all his muscles, for he is daily and hourly training them to instant obedience. a group of privates will snap into "attention" at the word of command with splendid muscular control; the same number of officers would find great difficulty in doing this. now as the man loses muscular control he loses poise and carriage. his head rolls about in a slack way on his neck, and has a tendency to drop forward; the muscles of the neck and the upper part of the back grow soft from lack of use and control and he begins to become round-shouldered; his chest falls in as the shoulders come forward and the chest cavity is reduced. this means a gradual cramping of lungs, heart, and stomach. by way of compensation he lets out a hole or two in his belt and starts in to carry more weight there. in other words, he exchanges muscle for fat, and as the fat increases he has less and less muscular strength to carry it. it is as though in a motor-car one added hundreds of pounds of weight to the body and reduced the horse-power of the engine. pretty soon the man becomes so heavy around the waist that he notices his discomfort, and it produces exhaustion; now he becomes more and more averse to exercise, and the facia, or fat, having the better of the battle, begins to penetrate even the fiber of the muscles. the remedy the heart is a muscle, like all the others in the body, and fat may accumulate there. when this condition comes about the man is perforce obliged to be careful, for the heart muscle has lost its strength. as stated, the situation becomes a vicious circle: as the man adds fat he becomes more and more averse to exercise, and the less he exercises the fatter he gets. and yet all this can be prevented; nor is it necessary to take up any violent system of training, or to engage in tremendous gymnastic exercise. if the patient is willing to take reasonable physical training along scientific lines, a few hours a week will keep him in respectable shape, so that he may preserve not only his figure, but also his activity. it should be remembered that all the members of the body partake of the slackness that is apparent externally. thus organs that should be active in changing fat into energy lose their tone, and with that goes their ability to carry on their proper functions. the best work of the man himself is co-ordinated with the proper performance of the bodily activities. growth and strength depend upon and react upon the tissues, and while this process is less active as age comes on, it can be stimulated to the great advantage of both mind and body. what worry does every man who has reached a high place in his community or who has become a leader of note knows that executive work has a tremendous effect upon the nerves and body. if the man becomes run-down the smallest decision gives him difficulty; it seems weighted with enormous possibilities of disaster. a problem, which under normal conditions he would turn over with equanimity to his assistant, takes on, in his nervous state, a seriousness that leads to hours of worry. and yet if he goes away on a vacation he returns to find that nine-tenths of these troublesome things have been well taken care of during his absence. moreover, now that he has come back in a state of physical health and with nerves that are normal, he sees that these awful problems were simply exaggerated in his own mind by his overwrought physical condition. few people realize the effect of worry upon the digestion. an experiment was once tried upon a cat, which was fed a dish of milk, stroked until it purred, and played with for half an hour. the animal was then killed and the stomach examined; the milk was perfectly digested. another cat was taken and given a similar saucer of milk; then its fur was rubbed the wrong way and it was teased and annoyed as much as possible for half an hour. upon examining the stomach of the second cat it was found that not a step in the process of digestion had taken place. americanitis it is wise to study the condition that we might almost call "americanitis." the american youth, as shown in the olympic games, is not only a match in speed, strength, and stamina for the youth of other nations, but when it comes to the individual specialist even then the american-trained boy is his superior. we smash records regularly. we have been doing this for a decade with hardly a break. even those who criticize our tendency to develop individuals are obliged to admit that this continual advance in athletic prowess fosters the spirit of emulation among the masses. moreover, we are improving in the way of distributing our efforts, and more and more men in schools and colleges come out for physical training and development. we have not by any means perfected the system, but it is on the way. supplementing this general athletic development comes now the introduction into the curriculum of military drill. finally compulsory military education or at least the compulsory physical part of it, throughout the country will set up the youth of the coming race in a way hitherto unthought of. it is safe to say that the next decade will see our youth, and men up to the age of forty, in far better physical condition than is the case to-day. the price of success the men of this country, with their forcefulness and their ambition, their stern desire to succeed quickly and to work furiously if necessary to obtain that success, are apt to forget that nature meant man to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow; and that just so far as he departs from this primal method of supporting himself and his family he must pay toll. almost before he realizes it the american youth is a staid man of business. only yesterday he was a boy at play, and to-day he finds himself known by his first name or nickname only to a few old classmates whom he sees at his college reunions. he is judge this or honorable that. he has had no time to realize that somewhere he has lost fifteen or twenty years in this wild rush for fortune and fame. now in some hour of enforced reflection during a temporary illness he begins to count the cost, to think how little he has in common with that growing boy of his. but still he does no more than wish that he might have more time for play and could see his way to longer and less interrupted vacations. perhaps on his next period of relaxation he plunges into an orgy of physical exercise--plays to the point of exhaustion--enjoys it, too, and sleeps like a log. oh, this is the life once more! when he returns to town he determines to take more time for exercise; he will keep up his tennis or golf. but once back at work, he must make up for lost time. he returns with an improved appetite and he indulges it. soon his vacation benefits have worn off, together with his vacation tan. the muscles slacken again, the waist-line increases. he feels a little remorse over the way he has broken his good resolutions, but of course he cannot neglect his business. then, after a hard week, followed by some carelessness or exposure, he thinks that he has the grip or a cold. he is lucky if he stays at home and calls in his physician. he does not pick up. now, for the first time, he hears from the doctor words that he has caught occasionally about men far older than himself--"blood pressure." but he he is under fifty! the doctor says he must go slower. now begins a dreary round indeed! he has never learned to go slow! he is an old man at fifty. if lucky, he has made money. but what is the price? he has found precious little fun in those fifteen or twenty years since he was a boy. of course he has had his high living, his motor, his late hours. his cigars have been good, but he has never enjoyed them so much as he did the old pipe at camp. his dinners and late suppers can't compare with the fish and bacon of the woods. what a fool he has been! perhaps he has caught himself in time. if so he is in luck and nature may partially forgive him and give him a chance to "come back." he is well scared and he means to be good. but the scare wears off, and then, too, "business" presses him on again. and finally, still well this side of sixty, perhaps, nature taps him on the shoulder and says, "stop!" "but," he pleads, "i'll be good!" "you are in the way," she replies, "and the sooner you make place for wiser men the better i shall have my work done." but it is not alone the business world that is full of these untimely breakdowns. we lose many a man in the professional ranks with ten years of his best work before him, the man of ripened intellect, with his store of reading and experience--stopped oftentimes in the very midst of that masterpiece whose volumes would be read by future generations. executives whose value to corporations is increasing in a compound degree suddenly receive notice that the continually bent bow is cracking; almost immediately they lose their ambition and initiative, they become prematurely aged. these are indeed expensive losses! and all this could be saved at an expenditure of a few paltry hours a week devoted to the repair of the physical man; given that and we may safely promise that he shall round out the full measure of his mental labors. the men of this country are going the pace at a far more reckless rate than that of any other nation. philosophers like prof. irving fisher are sounding the warning. shall we heed it? chapter ii when dr. d.a. sargent, of harvard university, makes the charge that, "more than one-half of the male population between the ages of eighteen and forty-five years are unable to meet the health requirements of military service, and that, of the largest and strongest of our country folk pouring into our cities, barely one of their descendants ever attains to the third generation," it becomes a pretty serious charge. we are already familiar with the forgetfulness of physical condition by men over forty, but we had prided ourselves considerably over the belief that the majority of our youth would compare favorably with those of other countries. when one comes to sift the statement, he should remember that many disabilities for which the military examiners might reject a man are not so serious, after all, and that nothing has been said about the splendid physique of the large number of men who are accepted. the writer visited recently many of the training-camps, both military and naval; and when he came away he was quite prepared to agree with those who praise the flower of the flock as being superior to that they have seen on the other side. the point is that doctor sargent is absolutely right in asserting that we ought not to have had so many rejections. it is time for us to realize that a man who is out of balance physically should be looked after. moreover, men should not become out of balance. the truth of the matter is that our mechanical devices have gone so far toward taking the place of manual labor that we only have one line of physical development--our athletic sports. if, therefore, these are not made broad enough and thorough enough and accessible enough, we are likely to have just what is happening now--namely, a slump when it comes to measuring up to the standard instituted by the military authorities. our young men do flock to the cities and city life means crowded conditions, lack of outdoor exercises, vitiated atmosphere, and a minimum of sunshine and of the other elements that go to perfecting and keeping up a robust and enduring physique. the value of exercise now exercise is the most important factor toward counteracting these unnatural conditions. air, bathing, and diet aid, but we must have exercise in order to get the energetic contraction of the larger muscles of the body which goes so far toward regulating the physical tone. we must have what are called compensatory exercises, beginning as far down as the grammar-schools and continuing right through the universities and professional schools into general business and civic life. this war has opened our eyes; it should be a warning, and it ought to result in a far broader comprehension of what physical condition and physical education really mean. it is in this way only that we can meet the demands of modern civilization without an accompanying deterioration of the physical condition of our people. no one has set a finer example in this respect than president wilson himself, who, realizing the enormous strain that was coming upon him, has systematically and conscientiously prepared for it. early every morning, long before most washingtonians are so much as turning over for their pre-getting-up nap, the president is out and off around the golf-course. also doctor grayson has prepared a system of exercises for his use when outdoor work is impossible. preparing for emergencies in the summer of 1917 several members of the cabinet formed themselves into a club, with other prominent officials in washington, and kept themselves fit throughout the season by consistent morning exercise, four days a week. so far so good, only we should have realized more than a year ago the strain that was coming upon our men and taken measures to meet it, as germany did. dr. william c. woodward, who is chairman of the district police board in washington, did not overstate the matter when he said that the draft officers were weary, that the strain had begun to threaten their efficiency, and that they were thoroughly undermining their bodies in the effort to accomplish their tremendous task. every community has seen the same thing happen, and several of them can agree with doctor woodward that this has come close to being a really serious business calamity throughout the country. all these men should have been prepared by thirty or sixty days of physical training for this extra strain. again, the equitable life assurance society, in its september bulletin, calls attention to the fact that, out of approximately 1,300,000 men who volunteered for the army and navy, only 448,859 were acceptable. furthermore, the equitable notes that these physical impairments not only will not correct themselves, but that they will get worse, and that a large percentage of our vast horde of physically sub-standard, low-priced men will drift into sickness and meet premature death because their power to resist disease is rapidly declining. the equitable calls, on this convincing evidence, for a thorough and permanent system of health education in our schools, saying: "with all of our wealth and intelligence and scientific knowledge in the field of health conservation, we are allowing a large proportion of our children to pass out of the schools into adult life physically below par." the equitable concludes with the remark: "some day we will give all american school children thorough physical training and health education. why not commence now?" from a famous physician's note-book dr. s. weir mitchell says: all classes of men who use the brain severely, and who have also--and this is important--seasons of excessive anxiety or grave responsibility, are subject to the same form of disease; and this is why, i presume, that i, as well as others who are accustomed to encounter nervous disorders, have met with numerous instances of nervous exhaustion among merchants and manufacturers. my note-books seem to show that manufacturers and certain classes of railway officials are the most liable to suffer from neural exhaustion. next to these come merchants in general, brokers, etc.; then, less frequently, clergymen; still less often, lawyers; and, more rarely, doctors; while distressing cases are apt to occur among the overschooled young of both sexes. here is a day's list: charles page bryan, former ambassador to japan, died in washington of heart failure at the age of sixty-one. judge arthur e. burr, judge of probate for suffolk county, dropped dead in the court-house at the age of forty-eight. hiram merrick kirk, municipal court justice, new york, died in the forty-seventh year of his age. lieut. william t. gleason dropped dead in the railroad station, salt lake city, as he stepped from a railroad train, at the age of forty. indeed, it is not only the men of military age who drop off under this strain, but the very vital strong men behind the lines. the road to efficiency it is an extraordinary thing that the people in this country, many of them coming from the most vigorous ancestry, should be willing to compress all their athletic enthusiasm into a very small period of their school and college life, and then to forget to take any exercise (except vicariously) until warned, sometime after forty, that nature will exact a price for such folly. it is certainly a puzzle to understand how men can willingly slip into fatness and flabbiness or nervous indigestion, forget entirely what a pleasure physical vigor is, fold their hands contentedly, with the statement that they haven't time for physical culture, and so, gradually, by way of the motor-car and the dinner-table, slide into physical decadence and a morbid condition of mind and body. and yet three or four hours a week, less than an hour a day, with the assistance of fresh air and water, and within a sixty-or ninety-day period, will start these people on the road to recovered health and vigor. all that is necessary is to get the proper action of the lungs, of the heart, and of the skin, and, finally, of the digestion; then the results will follow fast. a winter vacation the first time a good conservative new england business or professional man, who has worked hard all his life and who has attained a commanding position in the community, determines to break away and take a vacation in the winter--a thing he has heard about and sometimes wondered how other people could manage to do it--he meets with the surprise of his life. after boarding a train and traveling for twenty-four hours toward the south and sunshine, he begins to lose a little the feeling that he is playing "hookey" and is liable to be dragged home and birched. but he does wonder a little whether he won't have hard work in finding somebody to play with him. when, however, he disembarks from his train at his destination--we will say pinehurst--he has already begun to realize, through noting the other bags of golf-clubs on the train, that possibly he will be able to get some partners. when he arrives at the hotel, although it is early breakfast-time, he is astounded at the number of people there, and he is inclined to think that he has happened upon an unusual week or that this is the one place in the south where golfers congregate. by the time he has spent a day or two there and has found that, in spite of the three courses open, it is wise to post his time the day before or he is likely to kick his heels around the first tee for a couple of hours before he can get away, and when he looks over the crowded dining-room at night--well, he comes to the conclusion that most of the school have deserted and are playing truant, too! the gospel of fresh air a generation ago the people who preached the good gospel of fresh air were still viewed askance, although the new doctrine had begun to make some impression. the early settlers in this country lived an outdoor life perforce, and undoubtedly found all the excitement of a football game in fighting the indians; consequently, they attained proper physical development. the descendants of these settlers still retained a good deal of the outdoor habit, but in the third generation the actual drift city-ward began. this meant the absence of incentives to outdoor exercise, so far as life and the pursuit of happiness were concerned. hence, it became necessary to preach the gospel of fresh air. "oh, the joy with which the air is rife," sang adams lindsay gordon, one of the early preachers of this doctrine, and to-day thousands and tens of thousands are appreciating the truth of the saying. not alone the boy at school or college with his football, baseball, and rowing, but the middle-aged man with his golf and tennis, and the old man tramping through the woods with the rod and gun, as he used to do thirty years ago, and as he will do to the end--all these know what fresh air means. sunshine, through the medium of golf, has come to the life of thousands of middle-aged wrecks formerly tied to an office chair. no one can estimate the number of lives, growing aged by confinement in close rooms, by lack of exercise, and by the want of cheerful interest in something beside the amassing of dollars and cents, that have been saved and rendered happy through the introduction of this grand sport whose courses now dot the country from maine to california, from the top of michigan to the end of florida. twenty years ago in this country a man who came to his office in a golf suit would have been regarded as demented, to say the least. to-day the head of the house in many a large business refuses to permit anything to interfere with his saturday on the links. and this means that he and all the officers in the departments under him, instead of viewing with concern the interest of the men in outdoor sports--their devotion to baseball and football, to tennis, golf, and track athletics--are glad and willing that the great outdoors should have a real place in their lives. it is good business policy. something must make up to the later generations for the loss of the open air and outdoor work which the exigencies of the olden times demanded of our ancestors, and that something has come in the shape of physical exercise. but golf and long vacations are for the comparatively rich. they are makeshifts rendered possible only by circumstances. unlearned lessons if a man determined, because his horse or his dog showed exceptional intelligence, that he would endeavor to develop that intelligence by setting the animal at mental tasks, and so gave it only the exercise that would come from moving about the room, and no fresh air or sunshine, no road-work or hunting--well, we are all quite familiar with what the result would be. if a parent had a child who showed unusual mental precocity and thereupon forced the brain of that child, with no outdoors, no fresh air, no sunshine, and even to late hours, we all recognize that such action would be criminal. yet probably 50 per cent, of our best executives, in their efforts to aid in the present emergency, are doing just what we are ready to condemn in the hypothetical cases given above. some of these men, while still able to whip up their will into going on from day to day with the same exhausting program, finally conclude that unless they take a vacation they are going to break down. the doctor tells them so and they know it. whereupon they rush off for a week or ten days; some of them enter upon an orgy of exercise, others relax into a somnolent state of lying around and thanking their stars that they can rest at last. they certainly do feel better and do improve, but they come back to work merely to begin the same old vicious round. they have had their lesson, but they have not learned it. chapter iii this is a young nation. it began with the great gods of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. and it fought a good fight in the war of independence for freedom and equality. then came the lesser gods of material success. they broke the nation apart. but it survived. since the civil war we have grown rich and fat, flaccid and spineless. we are like a great, careless boy with a rich father; our crops and material resources symbolize the rich father who is able to pay for all his son's foolishness. and so the youth has never stopped to think. but underneath that careless exterior there are muscle and character. for what is the history of youth? if the youth is to become a real man he cannot be curbed to the extent of forgetting courage in an excess of caution. and the rush of our youth to the service showed this. the spirit of youth an englishman once writing of the tendency of the elders to blot out all the fire of youth with restrictive legislation, said, "it is a fearful responsibility to be young, and none can bear it like their elders." how can a youth whose blood is warm within sit like his grandsire carved in alabaster? he cannot and he will not, and that is the salvation of the race. it is the old story of the stag in the herd. he will see no other usurp his rights until he is too old to have any. let me tell you something of the history of these attempts by the elders to curb the everlasting spirit of youth. at one time they would have eliminated all the sports. but we didn't let croquet become the national game! you ask what this nation of ours will become, and in reply i ask you what will you make of your boys? statisticians tell us that 90 per cent. of the men who go into business fail. do you want your boy to fold his hands and say that because the chances are against him he will not try at all? are you going to let him get such a maximum of old man's caution that he reduces to a minimum the young man's courage? make him strong and well, just as you wish the nation to be strong and sound. there will always be plenty of middle-aged failures to preach caution. teach your boy fair play and may the best man win. teach him that the true sportsman "boasts little, crows gently when in luck, puts up, pays up, and shuts up when beaten"; that he should be strong in order to protect his country. a boy may over-emphasize his sports, but he will get over that. they tell us about the good old times when boys at college spent all their time in study and loved one another. there never were any such times. the town-and-gown riots took the place of sports, that's all. economic losses we are all of us very much interested in the life of an automobile tire, and it seems to speak to us in terms we can readily understand. but only the particularly wise and successful men of our generation know and appreciate how valuable the life of a man is when expressed in those same terms of good hard dollars. many manufacturers in the last two or three years have awakened to the fact that when, they put in a man and he stayed with them only two or three months, or even, in the case of executives, two or three years and then dropped out, either to go elsewhere or on account of ill health, it was a very distinct loss. in other words, they had put a certain investment into the man and that investment should have been growing more valuable to them all the time. germany's general staff, previous to this war, was working overtime, just as our cabinet and national board of defense are doing now--namely, till midnight and beyond. but the german general staff was taken out into the thiergarten in the morning for from one to two hours of exercise as a beginning of the day. it therefore sifts itself down to this: if we had an ordnance officer who fired a gun, that was tested for but two hundred rounds without heating, five hundred times and thus cracked it, he would probably be discharged. if the superintendent in a factory doubled the number of hours he was running his automatic machinery, and instead of doubling the amount of oil actually cut it in half and thus ruined the machines, he would be regarded as a fool. yet we are letting our men, high in executive positions, heads of departments in the government, and leaders of manufacturing, transportation, and commercial interests, do this very thing. is it possible that we regard them as less valuable to us in this emergency than machines and guns, that we should burn them out for lack of lubricant and rest or physical conservation? warning examples a railroad president not long ago said that he had not the time to take exercise or rest, that his salary was fifty thousand dollars a year, and that his company had just given him a bonus of fifty thousand; hence he could not shirk his responsibilities. he paid the full measure and was buried in six months from the time of the warning. in one issue of the new york _evening post_ the following deaths were noted: president hyde, formerly of bowdoin, fifty-nine years of age. capt. volney chase, of the navy, fifty-six years of age. capt. campbell babcock, fifty years old. colonel deshon, fifty-three years old. our cabinet officers and executives and the members of the council of national defense are likely to forget, in the excess of their patriotism and loyalty, that there is one edict higher than that of the greatest government in the world. when nature gives an order there is no appeal to a higher court, and the excuse that a man has not the time to obey, or is doing something that his country most urgently needs, has no weight in that court. when nature touches a man on the shoulder and says, "stop!" he stops. the penalty of frayed nerves, overworked brains, and underworked bodies is failure of body and mind. the premonitory symptoms are irritability, quarreling, depression, fierceness and inefficiency of effort, and finally complete breakdown. three to four hours a week physical exercise under a scientifically tested plan and arrangement will keep these men fit. is the price in this emergency too high to pay? physical fitness a vital fact up to the time when this world conflagration started, a man's physical fitness was merely a matter of individual interest. the general health of the community was important, but that fact was not sufficiently pressing to do much more than attract the attention of the health boards, and perhaps a few recently organized and semi-philanthropic bodies. but suddenly there flamed out a war in europe, and at once the countries involved found that upon the physical fitness of the people would depend their lives and freedom. it was no longer an academic question. it became an immediate and vital fact. in september of 1914 the writer placed the following suggestion on the top of his syndicate athletic article: americans awake! guard your shores and train your men, teach your growing youth to fight; make your plans ere once again ships of foes appear in sight. teach new arts until you hold in your bounds all things you need. then you can't be bought or sold; from commercial bonds be freed! if manhattan rich you'd save, if your western golden gate- train a field force, rule the wave. every day you're tempting fate! build the ships and train to arms, make your millions fighting strength that shall frighten war's alarms ere they reach a challenge length. he was immediately assailed as a militarist, and yet, had we but taken those preparatory steps, millions of lives might have been saved. chapter iv and thus we approach one of the problems which this book is designed to solve. there are eight million men in this country between the ages of forty-five and sixty-four. probably we may count upon another million from the men of sixty-four to seventy who would be "prospects," as the mining-men say. these men represent nine-tenths of the financial and executive strength of the united states. the senior service corps when i started the experiment of the senior service corps at new haven, in the spring of 1917, all my men were over forty-five, and several of them had passed the seventy mark; yet all found increased health and efficiency from the prescribed regime. there was a distinct gain, not only in health, but in spirits and in temper. nerves that had been at high tension relaxed to normal. effort that had seemed exhaustive became pleasurable. the ordinary problems of business or finance, once so apt to be vexatious, lost their power to produce worry. in fact, these men had renewed their youth; they had altered the horizon-line of advancing age, across which only clouds of doubt and apprehension could be seen, to that of youth, radiant with the sunshine of hope and the promise of accomplishment. [illustration: initial hike of first senior service corps] this war has started some new thoughts and has given emphasis to others that may not be new but which have never been forced home. one of these is the value of physical efficiency. a social scientist said some twenty years ago that the "greatest nation of the future would be the one which could send the most men to the top of the matterhorn." nations now realize that in such a time as this all men up to forty may be required for the firing-line; and this means that all the men from forty to seventy must be rendered especially efficient and physically fit in order to stand back of the fighting forces as a dependable reserve--money, power, and brains. [illustration: hike of a senior corps] [illustration: these men, although over forty-five years of age, marched for over four hours without discomfort] the basic idea this was the idea of the development of the senior service corps--to take men who are over military age and make them physically fit for whatever strain may come. it has resulted in not only making them physically fit, but in practically renewing their youth. the experimental (new haven) company of a hundred, varying in age from forty-five to over seventy, in weight from 114 to 265 pounds, and in height from 5 ft. 4 in. to 6 ft. 4 in., after just completing ninety days' training, marched at the dedication of the artillery armory over four and one-half hours without physical discomfort. now, war or no war, the man of over military age would like to be fit, would like to feel that glow of youth which comes even to the man of fifty when he is physically in condition. nine-tenths of the men over forty-five can accomplish this, and they can do it by the expenditure of only three or four hours a week if they will follow with absolute care the rules demonstrated by a scientific experiment upon a company of one hundred men over a period of ninety days. this company of new haven professional and business men included the president of the chamber of commerce, the editor of the largest evening newspaper, the dean of yale university, the director of the gymnasium, the president of sargent & company, the owner of the poli theater circuit, the ex-mayor of the city, two judges, the treasurer of the savings-bank, the registrar of yale university, four professors, three doctors, and many leading corporation officials. at the end of this period these men were not only able to march for over four hours without discomfort, but without losing a man. moreover, they all gained in spirits, recovered their erect carriage, and found themselves enjoying their tasks. community physical development the plan developed by the national security league, under its committee on physical reserve, of assuring physical fitness for the nation, is capable of endless possibilities in application and development. the plan treats each as a separate unit and allows it to adapt the physical-fitness scheme to local conditions, favoring the appointment of neighborhood groups for instruction in physical drill and the "daily dozen set-up," assuring such conditions and applications of diet and hygiene as are particularly demanded by the individual community's conditions and demands. every individual detail and local development is left to the committee which each mayor or town or borough official appoints, on invitation of the league. [illustration: walter camp, president, and joseph c. johnson, secretary, of the original senior service corps established in new haven, connecticut, in the spring of 1917] the ideal toward which every community is working is the establishment, as an integral part of it, of a local fitness plant. this includes first, playgrounds laid out for all recreational sports, in their season. the ideal playground system will have enough room in walks and landscape-gardening for park development--sufficient to meet the community's maximum needs. community physical-fitness centers are growing up in which an adjacent lake or river provides facilities for rowing, canoeing, and recreational enjoyment through breathing the fresh air, while taking regular physical, conditioning exercises. such an ideal community plant has proven by no means a vision incapable of realization. to-day men and women realize painfully the need for one in their home community and are prevented from the fulfilment of their dream by only two obstacles--lack of funds and adequate organization of the plan. this work and these centers offer the greatest possibilities in the americanization scheme, perfection of which is a paramount duty for this country. [illustration: setting-up work of a company of one hundred] [illustration: doctor anderson leading a group in the yale gymnasium] not only do such plants transpose the astonishingly large percentage of the physically unfit of our foreign and domestic population and reclaim those whose physical imperfections have either become evident through the draft, or which are not known, but it affords the surest possible means of interesting this large element of our population in american institutions, of attracting them to the soundest and most beautiful features of american life, and of convincing them of their comradeship in the strength and sinew of american manhood; in short, of building the foundations of democracy on a base as stable as the eternal granite hills. an outline of the system the senior service program starts with setting-up exercises which open the chest, gently stimulate the heart, and start the blood coursing through the system, and follows with progressive walking, a little hill-climbing, and, later in the development, with some weight-carrying exercises. the system renews the resistive force of the body, tones up the muscles, opens the chest cavity so that the heart and lungs have more room and the breath is deeper and better, gives general exercise to the various muscles which have become more or less atrophied from disuse, and brings about a marked improvement in the mental outlook and in the animal spirits. the system is a combination of setting-up exercises with outdoor work, all carefully and precisely laid out after twenty years of experience in conditioning men. it should be followed absolutely, not partially or occasionally. it is far from severe. its strength lies in the cumulative effect rather than in any special effort at any one time. it should be said that a mental effort is requisite in this course as well as the physical one. the correlation between mind and muscle must be re-established. the man must become master of his body once more and retain that mastery. certain suggestions are also given specifically as to living--none of them irksome, but quite essential if the full result of the work is to be attained. this was the first experiment of its kind, and hence it has proven of especial interest. there are plenty of cases of individuals taking up exercise in one form or another and benefiting somewhat by it; but when twenty to one hundred men in a group have engaged in this senior service work, the result has proven remarkable in every instance. the question seems to be simply this: if you are over military age and wish to renew your youth, and are willing to pay the price by devoting some three or four hours a week to a scientifically tested system, and can secure a score of other men to do it with you, you can be absolutely assured of success. well, isn't it worth it? individual and group action thousands of men are beginning to realize what all this means. my mail for the last six months has been full of the inquiry. men of forty are rapidly awakening and are eager to devote these few hours to the task of keeping fit, and so increasing their efficiency. at the same time they are preventing these horrible and untimely punishments at the hand of mother nature. now there are two methods by which a man may still be young at sixty. one is an exceedingly hard route for most men to travel--namely, the individual practice of this scientifically tested formula and patient persistence in it. the other is by group action. the latter is far easier and its results are doubly effective. however, as in some cases group action may be impossible, this book furnishes the data for individual practice as well. all the exercises described are possible for the individual as well as for the group. should a man determine to follow them out alone, he must make up his mind that there shall be no interference with his carrying out his program with regularity and exactness. he must not for a moment believe that he can miss the exercises one day and then make up for the lapse by doubling them the next day. he must always follow the setting-up exercises with his walk and not do the setting-up in the morning and then wait till afternoon for his walk. it is the combination that produces the most effective results. [illustration: effect of thirty days of training upon a company. these men are carrying iron bars weighing nine pounds each] [illustration: practising and marching with iron bars weighing nine pounds each] in a group the leader constantly cautions the men as to carelessness or slackness. the individual having no leader must always keep his mind fixed upon the exact way in which his exercises should be performed. when he puts his hands behind his head in "neck firm" or "head" he must keep his elbows back and his head up, while the chest should be arched. when he bends forward in the prone position he must not allow his head to droop. when he raises his knees in alternate motions he must bring his knees well up. when he does the exercise of leaning up against the wall, by means of the extended arm and hand, he must keep the distance far enough from the wall to bring about a certain amount of real effort by the hand, arm, and shoulder. and so it goes. it is for this reason that all the exercises are so carefully described and the method and manner of walking, marching, or "hiking" receive so much attention. work and hygiene in a book recently published by one of the highest authorities on hygiene in the country, the following statements are made, statements which would prove of especial interest to those of us who have had the pleasure of being members of that "exclusive official washington club," or of the senior service: the problem of the mental worker is to get sufficient physical exercise to keep the mind and body at its maximum efficiency. this problem gets more and more acute as he gets older. the amount of work necessary to keep the man of sedentary habits in good condition is about 100 to 150 foot-tons. five hundred foot-tons is the amount of work a soldier would perform by marching twenty miles at three miles an hour on a level road. it is a fallacy to think that sufficient exercise can be taken once a week. in order to be efficient exercise must be regular and at relatively short intervals. all exercise should tend toward using all of the muscles of the body. in fatigue a person has lost control over his muscles. the process of getting into condition, therefore, is directed more toward strengthening the nervous system in its control work over the muscles rather than in increasing sheer muscular strength. pure creative mental work, although requiring no out-put of physical energy, is perhaps the most productive of fatigue. the brain gets more blood during physical activity and waste products are much better removed. the effects of exercise are particularly apparent in the lungs. more fresh air is brought to the lungs and the waste products are driven off. an attainable minimum for the average adult person might well consist of taking simple exercises in his room, and to get out of doors once a day and walk rapidly for at least half an hour. in addition, it is desirable for any one up to fifty years of age to take some kind of moderately violent exercise at least once a week. this should be sufficiently strenuous to induce perspiration. this is important for several reasons. in the first place, there is an old saying, which happens to be true, "never let your blood-vessels get stiff." in addition we should call on the tremendous reserve which nature gives to us, at least once in a while. [illustration: "counting off" a company in the yale gymnasium] [illustration: "head" position. group of one hundred, senior corps] water, walking, and food water plays a very important part in the life of man, for without it a person can live for only a short time. its importance is shown by experimental fasts lasting for thirty days where only water was taken, and when we consider that the body is composed of from 60 to 70 per cent, of water and that the amount which it throws off as waste has to be replaced through nutrition, we realize the value of water to life. the average person, therefore, should take from two to four quarts of water a day. [illustration: result of sixty days' training in carriage. the two men in front weigh 265 and 230 pounds respectively] [illustration: look and determination on first day's march, during which the men carried iron bars weighing nine pounds each] at middle age it is natural for most people to put on weight, unless they are especially active in their daily life. for, having acquired a habit of consuming a certain amount of food, it is absolutely essential to exercise and thereby offset the tendency of this food to make fat and increase the weight. walking can be enjoyed by everybody, and a four-or five-mile "hike" daily makes your credit at the bank of health mount up steadily. we should all learn that when we rob the trolley company of a nickel by walking we add a dime to our deposit of health. food, of course, is one of the main factors in one's general health, and we hear on all sides the opinions of people as to the causes of indigestion and the general ailments connected with eating. one thing is certain, however, and that is that pleasure has a favorable effect on the digestion. pleasant company at a meal, the dainty serving of the viands, and the attractiveness of the food combinations pave the way to a satisfactory repast, eaten with enjoyment and completely assimilated. a model dietary because diet is a real aid to physical well-being, the following table is offered as a rough suggestion for a typical dietary for a man leading a more or less sedentary life. but it will never replace exercise. breakfast approximate calories orange or grapefruit.................... 100 two eggs................................ 166 two vienna rolls........................ 258 butter.................................. 119 coffee with milk and sugar.............. 100 total................................... 743 luncheon approximate calories twelve soda crackers.................... 300 one pint milk........................... 325 --total................................... 625 dinner approximate calories soup (consomme)......................... 14 roast beef.............................. 357 potato.................................. 145 string beans or peas.................... 13 bread................................... 100 butter.................................. 119 apple pie............................... 352 glass of milk........................... 157 ---total.................................. 1257 many people have adopted a so-called vegetarian diet, believing that it is better for the health than eating meat. undoubtedly food from the vegetable kingdom is a great benefit to the human system, but strict vegetarianism is not recommended by our medical men. nature apparently intended us to be omnivorous, and, in addition, vegetarianism may run too close to the dangers of carbohydrate excess. as man progresses after middle life he can unquestionably diminish materially the amount of meat in his diet. in recent years there has been a revival of the theory of prolonged mastication of a limited amount of food. this theory is sound in so far as it tends to overcome the bolting of food and over-eating, but there is a belief among our practitioners that there is little basis in science or experience for the extremes of this character. hygienic cure-alls among recent fads is the so-called buttermilk or sour milk diet as advocated by metchnikoff. the original theory was interesting and was, in part, that the bacteria derived from soured milk would drive out of the intestinal canal all the harmful germs. quite possibly there may be something in the theory, especially if large quantities of milk are taken with the lactic acid bacilli, but the beneficial effect of this change of bacteria is not convincingly of great consequence. fresh air it is now generally known that an abundant supply of moving, pure, fresh air is the proper and simple solution of the problem of the hygiene of the air. oxygen is the element of the air which sustains life. we inhale about seven pounds per day, two pounds of which are absorbed by the body. the air becomes dangerous, or infected, when the oxygen in the air is decreased to only 11 or 12 per cent., and when the oxygen reaches 7 per cent. death occurs from asphyxiation. the human body requires about three thousand cubic feet per hour, and the great problem of ventilation is to give this amount of pure air, moving, and with the proper amount of moisture. it is a common belief that with each breath we take we are filling our lungs with fresh air. this is not the case, for we never do get our lungs filled with fresh air. what really happens is that we ventilate a long tube which has no intercommunication whatever with the blood. most of the time our lungs are filled with impure air, and we simply exchange a part of it for fresh air. the value of deep breathing deep breathing is undoubtedly extremely beneficial. most of us, due largely to the fact that nature leaves a considerable margin of safety, are able to carry on our ordinary activities without the requisite ventilation of the lungs, especially if we do not exercise. this, however, is injurious to the lungs, for it allows the blood to stagnate in them. exercise is nature's method of compelling ventilation in the lung area. deep breathing may be used as a substitute, but the other beneficial effects of exercise are lost. the skin and the various glands connected with it form a complex organism, the functions of which play a very important part in the work which the body has to do. the skin aids the lungs in their work of respiration; and, like the lungs, it throws off water and carbon dioxide and absorbs oxygen. the respiratory work of the skin, however, is only a minute fraction of that which the lungs do. the skin is a heat regulator, and in this, its most important work, it is aided by the two million or more sweat-glands which are distributed over almost the entire surface of the body. the skin and the sweat-glands work together to keep the blood at an even temperature, either by giving off heat or in preventing this process in case the outside air is too cool. the body temperature, as a rule, is higher than that of the outside air, so that heat is generally being given off by the skin. we are perspiring constantly, but usually to such a slight extent that the fact is hardly noticeable. the amount of heat which is thrown off at any time is proportional to the amount of the tissue burned up by muscular action. chapter v health, strength, and efficiency! surely every man in this great republic of ours wants to be healthy, strong, and efficient, but how is he to obtain and maintain this threefold blessing? it has been stated that scientific physical exercise, preferably taken in group association, will accomplish it. now to consider some of the practical details involved. the organization the organization may be composed of any number from sixteen to one hundred men, and about the smallest unit that should be undertaken is that of sixteen men. on the other hand, when the number gets above one hundred (or preferably ninety-six, in order that it may be divided into four companies of twenty-four each) it is better to start a second group under a separate leader. the first thing to do in the organization is to enroll at least one physician, who becomes the surgeon of the company. his name, together with that of the secretary of the unit, should be filed with the senior service corps, of new haven, connecticut, or with the national security league, of new york city, in order that any additional information or directions may be forwarded promptly. the division of labor in the work should be from ten to fifteen minutes of the setting-up exercises, and from forty-five to fifty minutes of the outdoor work. it has been found upon scientific test that this is the best division, and the outdoor work should follow the setting-up exercises immediately, since the men are then in condition to benefit from the fact that they have opened up their chest cavity and are taking in more fresh air and oxygen. the best way to start a unit is to get ten or a dozen leaders together at dinner or luncheon and organize; then pick out other men who are of importance in the community and add them to the charter number. the editors of the local papers are usually very glad to lend their powerful assistance toward the project. it is not necessary to have the outdoor work partake of the nature of military drill, but a certain amount of this, added after the second or third week, lends interest and also produces excellent results in muscular control. in order to understand the various prescribed movements and exercises the following explanations should be carefully studied, of course, in connection with the illustrative photographs. to the leader it is particularly necessary that the leader should thoroughly familiarize himself with the movements and positions, for many of the men will not take the trouble to study the manual by themselves, or they may be unable to spare time for anything but the actual drill. it is the leader's business to instruct, and the progress of his squad or company will be in direct proportion to his knowledge and capacity to inspire real interest in and enthusiasm for the work. each movement must be executed perfectly and exactly or the benefit therefrom will not be fully assured. much depends upon the leader; a man should be selected who has the gift of leadership. giving the commands in giving the commands care should be taken to discriminate between the explanatory and executive parts of the order, making a decided pause between. for example, in "forward march!" "forward" is the explanatory or warning word; then, after a perceptible pause, the executive word "march!" should be given in a crisp, decisive tone of voice. the command "attention!" is but one word, but it is the custom to divide it syllabically, thus, "atten-shun!" all other commands taken from the military manuals have their proper warning and executive words; for example: "count--off!" "about--face!" "right--face!" "company--halt!" "to the rear--march!" "double time--march!" etc. the exceptions are the commands, "rest!" "at ease!" and "fall out!" the orders for the exercise movements may be standardized by first giving the name of the movement, "arms cross," and then adding the words: "ready--cross!" to indicate the second or executive part of the command. for example: "arms cross. ready--cross!" the men taking the "cross" position at the last word. in this way the members of the squad are first warned as to just what they are expected to do; then, at the executive word, they all act together. the leader should see to it that the over-eager men do not anticipate the executive command. the only purely military formation used in this manual is that of the squad. nowadays, when military training is so universal, the meaning of the term is well known; there is sure to be some one in the company who can supply the necessary information about forming the squad and the simple movement of "squads right." to put it into untechnical language, it may be said that the squad consists of eight men, lined up four abreast in two ranks. the men should be arranged in order of height, the tallest being no. 1, front rank. no. 4 of the front rank acts as corporal of the squad. [illustration: eyes right!] "squads right" looks like a complicated maneuver when studied according to the diagrams in the manuals, but it is not particularly difficult in practice. its use is to get the company out of the double line formation into a column of four men abreast, the usual marching formation. at the executive command, "march!" no. 1 front rank acts as the pivot, and makes a right-angled turn to the right, marking time in that position until the three other men in the front rank have executed a right-oblique movement and have come up on the new line. the rear-rank men follow suit, but nos. 2 and 1 have to turn momentarily to the left in order to get behind the front-rank pivot men--to put it more simply, they follow no. 2 in single file. it sounds confusing, but any old national guardsman can explain the movement in very short order. so soon as "squads right" has been completed the whole column takes up the march without further word of command. steps and marchings all steps and marchings executed from a halt (except right or left step) begin with the left foot. the length of the full step in "quick (or ordinary) time" is 30 inches, measured from heel to heel, and the cadence is at the rate of 120 steps to the minute. the length of the full step in "double time" is 36 inches; the cadence is at the rate of 180 steps to the minute. forward--march! at the warning command, "forward!" shift the weight of the body to the right leg, left knee straight. at the command, "march!" move the left foot forward 30 inches from the right; continue with the right and so on. the arms swing freely. double time--march! the arms are raised to a position horizontal with the waist-line, fingers clenched. the run is as natural as possible. to the rear--march! at the command, "march!" given as, the right foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the left foot, turn to the right-about on the balls of both feet, and immediately step off with the left foot. company--halt! at the command, "halt!" given as either foot strikes the ground, plant the other foot as in marching; raise and place the first foot by the side of the other. if in "double time," drop the hands by the sides. mark time--march! at the command, "march!" given as either foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the other foot; bring up the foot in the rear and continue the cadence by alternately raising each foot about two inches and planting it on line with the other. being at a halt, at the command, "march!" raise and plant the feet in position as prescribed above. change step--march! at the command, "march!" given as the right foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the left foot; plant the toe of the right foot near the heel of the left and step off with the left foot. the change as the left foot strikes the ground is similarly executed. right--face! raise slightly the left heel and right toe; face to the right, turning on the right heel, assisted by a slight pressure on the ball of the left foot; place the left foot by the side of the right. "left face" is executed on the left heel in a corresponding manner. about--face! carry the toe of the right foot about half a foot-length to the rear and slightly to the left of the left heel (without changing the position of the left foot); face to the rear, turning to the right on the left heel and right toe; place the right heel by the side of the left. there is no left "about face." count--off! at this command all except the right files (the two men forming the extreme right end of the company as drawn up in two lines) execute "eyes right"; then, beginning on the right, the men in each rank count one, two, three, four--one, two, three, four, etc. as each man calls off his squad number he turns head and eyes to the front. the setting-up exercises attention! this is the regular military position. heels together, the feet at an angle of forty-five degrees; hands at the sides, thumbs along seam of the trousers; neck back, chin in, chest out. (see fig. 1.) [illustration: fig. 1.--attention] the movement calls for prompt control of the muscles; in fact, the expression is often used of "snapping into attention," meaning that the man comes into this position quickly and easily and with a distinct click of the heels. in the "daily dozen" referred to later in this book, this position is called "hands." arms cross (ready-cross!) this movement is taken from the position of "attention" by raising the arms from the sides and turning the palms down; it may be varied by turning the palms up. holding the arms in this position, at the same time turning the hands and keeping the neck straight and the chest arched, will develop all the muscles over the shoulder. (see fig. 2.) [illustration: fig. 2.--arms cross on the "cross" position the arms should be straight out horizontally from the body, with the elbows locked. at the same time, resistance should be placed against the head and neck coming forward at all. these should be held in exactly the same position as at "attention." the tendency is either to let the arms bend a little or to let them drop below the horizontal, or even to hold them slightly above the level.] from this position "shoulder-grinding" may be practised. this is executed by keeping the arms extended, turning the whole arm in a circle in the shoulder socket, and forcing the shoulder-blades back and together as the arms go back. the circle made by the hands should be about twelve inches in diameter. arms stretch (ready-stretch!) in this exercise the arms are raised to a position straight up above the head, with the hands extended. the palms may be together or facing front. (see fig. 3.) [illustration: fig. 3.--arms stretch] hips firm! (this order is given, "hips-firm!") the hands are placed on the hips, with thumbs back and fingers forward. the chest should be arched, the shoulders and elbows kept well back, and the neck pushed hard against the collar. (see fig. 4.) also the hips should be kept well back and the abdomen in. this gives the same poise as the "attention" position, but it puts more work on the shoulder muscles and so gives greater opportunity for arching the chest. in the "daily dozen" this position is called simply, "hips." [illustration: fig. 4.--hips firm] neck firm! (this order is given, "neck-firm!") maintaining the same position as in "hips firm," the hands are quickly raised and put against the back of the head (the finger-tips slightly interlaced) just where it joins the neck, exerting some pressure; at the same time the head and neck are forced well back. (see fig. 5.) [illustration: fig. 5.--neck firm] the elbows should not be allowed to come forward, but should be kept back and the chest should be arched. this gives extra work for the muscles of the neck, as well as for those of the arms and shoulders. in the "daily dozen" this is called simply, "head." (see fig. 6.) [illustration: fig. 6--incorrect position of shoulders in neck firm] arms reach (ready-reach!) while maintaining an erect position, the arms are stretched out forward parallel to each other, the shoulders being kept back and the chest not cramped. if the shoulders are allowed to come forward the exercise is valueless. (see fig. 7.) [illustration: fig. 7.--arms reach] arms bend (ready-bend!) in this position the arms are bent at the elbows, with the hands partially clenched, and brought up about to the point of the shoulders. the shoulders are held back firmly and the neck is pressed against the collar, while the chest is arched (fig. 8). from this position the following movements are made with the hands clenched: arms cross (ready-cross)![1] [illustration: fig. 8.--arms bend] a good exercise in rhythmic time may be developed by going through the following round of movements: "arms bend, arms cross, arms bend, arms stretch, arms bend, arms reach, arms bend, arms down." body prone (ready-bend!) assuming the position of "neck firm," press the hands against the back of the neck and bend body at the waist forward, at the same time keeping the head in line with the spinal column and the eyes up; then back again to the erect position. (see fig. 6a, chapter xi.) this gives excellent exercise for the muscles of the neck, and, if performed slowly, some exercise for the back. assuming the same position of "neck firm," bend the body slightly at the waist. this exercise should not be carried to an extreme, especially in the case of men who have reached middle age. in the "daily dozen" this is called "grasp." balancing (ready-balance!) assume the position of "attention," then, standing on the right foot and keeping the knees straight, advance the left foot forward about two feet from the ground. hold this position while balancing on the right foot, then back to "attention" again. (see fig. 9.) [illustration: fig. 9.--balancing] make the same motion, standing on the left foot. now standing on the right foot, advance the left foot and, instead of bringing it to the ground, swing it back and extend it at the same height to the rear, still balancing on the other foot. hold this position for a moment. after some practice this movement can be executed by standing on one foot and putting the other leg first forward and then back for several times. this exercise gives control over the muscles of the leg and balancing powers, and increases the ability to adjust the muscles so as to maintain the equilibrium. stride position (ready-stride!) this position calls for the separation of the feet sideways about a foot and a half apart (fig. 10). now assume the "arms cross" attitude, and then, turning the body at the hips, bring first the right hand down to touch the floor, at the same time bending the right knee and keeping the left knee straight. come back to the regular position again. [illustration: fig. 10.--stride, first position] now bend the left knee, put down the left hand and touch the ground, turning the body at the hips. (see fig. 11.) [illustration: fig. 11.--stride, final position] in both of these movements keep the other arm extended backward. this produces a graceful exercise which is excellent work for the muscles of the body and shoulders. in the "daily dozen" this is called "the weave." assuming the "stride position," advance the right foot about a foot; then, with the arms in "cross" position once more, bend the forward knee and touch the ground with the hand, at the same time keeping the other arm extended backward. reverse this. this movement is also excellent for the muscles of the body and back. wall balance (ready-bend!) stand sideways to the wall about two feet and a half away; now extend both arms in the "cross" position, and then lift the foot that is farthest away from the wall and lean over until the extended fingers of the other hand touch the wall; push back into original position. move out a little farther from the wall and repeat. do this until the distance is as far as can comfortably be recovered by pushing the hand against the wall. reverse this exercise, so as to do it with the other arm. this is an excellent workout for the shoulder muscles as well as for the forearms, and gives some exercise to the body. stepping (ready-step!) standing erect at "attention," step to the right with the right foot about six inches, merely touching the toe to the ground, and bring the foot back to the "attention" position. the object of this movement is to give control of the muscles of the leg in addition to the balancing of the body. care should be taken to keep the body absolutely motionless while the exercise is in progress. the toe is only touched to the ground and the foot is brought immediately back into position. this movement has a quieting effect after more violent exercising. it can be done either sideways, forward, or back. running in place (mark time--march!) beginning with "marking time!" now raise the feet alternately from the ground, a little higher each time, until the knees come up practically to a level with the waist. then perform this same motion on the toes and shift into a run while still holding the same position--that is, while going up and down on the toes. men who have considerable weight around the waist-line should place their hands on the abdomen when performing this exercise. body-turning (ready-cross! ready-turn!) this movement consists in turning the body at the hips while keeping the feet and legs in the original position. it may be done from almost any of the positions already outlined, and is moderate work for the muscles of the waist. do it first with the arms in "cross" position, turning to the right as far as possible; then back to the "front," or original, position; then to the left as far as possible, and back to the "front," or original, position, taking pains that the turning is executed above the hips while the legs and feet hold their original position. a more pronounced method is given in the "daily dozen" in "wave" and "weave." heel-raising (ready-rise!) standing on both feet at "attention," raise the heels, and hold the position for a moment; then drop the heels again. repeat this. now, standing in "stride position," go up onto the toes again. drop the heels and repeat. this is an excellent exercise for the muscles of the calf. group exercises no. 1. attention! (or "hands!") hips: same position, but hands on hips, elbows back. neck (or "head"): same position, but hands on back of neck, elbows back. cross: same position, but arms extended full length out from body, palms down. grind: maintaining the "cross" position, turn palms up, and then make ten circles with hands, the diameter of the circle to be one foot (fig. 12). in doing this keep the arms horizontally out from the body, and on the backward sweep try to make the shoulder-blades almost meet at the back. (see fig. 4, chapter xi.) rest ten seconds. deep breathing with hands on hips. [illustration: fig. 12.--"grind," showing how the palms of hands are turned up in this exercise] no. 2. attention! stretch: lift arms straight up above head, palms out. reach: bring arms down, extending them straight out in front. palms in, but keep shoulders back. fling: bend elbows out and bring hands in to chest, palms down. then to "cross," back to "fling" again, and so on ten times. (see fig. 13.) [illustration: fig. 13.--fling. correct position] wave: assume "reach" position. now bend the arms sharply at wrists and just let the fingers interlock. bring the inside of elbow close to head, keeping head up. then, by turning the body at the hips and keeping the back straight, cause the hands to make a complete circle of the diameter of a foot (fig. 14). do this five times, and then reverse for five times. (see fig. 12, chapter xiii.) rest ten seconds. then deep breathing, lifting arms on inhalations and crossing them on exhalations. [illustration: fig. 14.--wave. excellent demonstration] no. 3. attention! stride: separate the feet by taking a step to right, bringing the feet about eighteen inches apart. [illustration: weave--common fault of not keeping shoulders and arms in line.] weave: turn the body at the hips while keeping the arms horizontally extended and bending the right knee slightly. bring the right hand down to the ground midway between the feet and let the left arm go up, keeping its horizontal position from the body, the spine doing the turning. hold this position five seconds; then up to "cross" position and turn the body the reverse way, bending left knee and bringing left hand to ground. hold five seconds, then up. repeat five times for each hand. (see fig. 14, chapter xiii.) curl: from "cross" position, clench the fists and bring arms in slowly to the side and up into the armpits, at the same time bending the body and head backward (fig. 15). the fists should be clenched and the wrists bent, bring the hands in toward the chest, the elbows out, and inhaling. (see fig. 9, chapter xii.) [illustration: fig. 15.--"curl" position. excellent demonstration except that the elbows should be thrown back] forward: from the above position, gradually bring the body up to an erect position, extending the hands to a "reach" position, and slowly bend the body forward at the hips, exhaling at the same time, and letting the hands go back past the hips and as high behind the back as possible, keeping the head up and the eyes looking directly forward, not down. go down about to the level of the wrist, then back to "cross" position again, and repeat this backward and forward movement five times. no. 4. attention! (cross-crawl!) assume the "cross" position. crawl: while still keeping the neck back, the chin, and the chest arched, slowly lift the right hand and arm until it points directly upward, then curl in right arm over the head, at the same time dropping the left shoulder and sliding the left hand and arm down along the side of the left leg until the fingers reach directly to the knee, or as far as comfortable. now come back from this position. (see figs. 7 and 8, chapter xii.) "cross" once more and raise the other arm in similar fashion. repeat this five times on each side. no. 5. attention! (cross-crouch!) crouch: assume the "cross" position of the arms and "stride" stand, feet about eighteen inches apart. now, keeping the head up and the neck back and back straight, bend the knees and come down slowly, not too far (fig. 16), until fully accustomed to it, and up again. repeat this five times. (see fig. 10, chapter xii.) [illustration: fig. 16.--"crouch," showing erect position of body and back] no. 6. attention! heel-raising: lift the heels from the floor, maintain the position on the toes for a second, then back onto the heels once more. repeat some ten times, then take the "stride" stand and repeat ten times in this position. no. 7. attention! wing-work: raise the arms to the "cross." then lift arms straight over head, inhaling; then, bending body forward and keeping the neck straight, swing the arms backward at the shoulder, exhaling, and come forward until the body is about level with the waist; then up again (fig. 17). picture the arms as looking like a bird's wings. repeat this five times in each direction. (see figs. 15, 15a, chapter xiii.) final deep breathing, with arm lifting as before. [illustration: fig. 17.--"wing" position, also back position of "curl." face should, however, be turned up] footnotes: [footnote 1: this is the same movement as in the ordinary "cross" position, except that the hands are kept clenched.] chapter vi a ten-day program first day attention! hips firm neck firm arms bend arms cross arms stretch arms reach mark time mark time on toes attention! stepping heels raise deep breathing (at "arms stretch") hike or outdoor work walk half-mile on level, each man at his own stride. [illustration: correct position of neck and shoulders in all reach exercises] walk in pairs--column of twos; the shorter men should be in front. second day attention! hips firm neck firm body prone hips firm stride stand body bend (side to left and right) attention! arms bend arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) arms stretch mark time mark time on toes attention! heels raise stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work walk three-quarters of a mile, column of twos, keeping step. starting at command, "forward--march!" beginning with left foot. leader calls "company--halt!" three or four times, and then "forward--march!" again. leader commands occasionally, "change step--march!" third day attention! arms bend arms cross stride stand turn body (on hips--right and left) attention! neck firm body prone body backward bend attention! balancing (on one foot--to right and left) mark time mark time on toes stride stand heels raise deep breathing hike or outdoor work [illustration: stooping. incorrect position, letting the head fall forward] walk a mile, column of twos, keeping step. last half-mile command men to stand up and keep their necks pressed back against their collars, chins in. fourth day attention! arms bend arms stretch palms front bring arms downward and backward attention! arms bend arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) stride stand (foot advanced) bend knee and touch floor with hand (right and left) mark time mark time on toes stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work walk a mile, marching step, column of twos, shorter men in front, but try to get them up to a thirty-inch stride. make a portion of the march slightly up-hill, and last half-mile with necks back, chin in, chest out. [illustration: letting shoulders come forward; common fault] [illustration: incorrect position of neck and shoulders; very common fault] [illustration: arms bend] fifth day attention! arms bend arms cross shoulder-grinding (moving hands in circle and backward) attention! stride stand arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) crouch (quarter-bend) mark time mark time on toes faster attention! stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work walk a mile and a quarter, column of twos. insist on thirty-inch stride, but put shorter men in front. make a little stiffer grade. no more talking in ranks. insist upon necks back, chins in, and chests out all the way. sixth day [illustration: stooping. incorrect position, letting the back bow up and shoulders drop] attention! arms bend arms wing arms fling arms cross shoulder-grinding attention! stride stand arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) body-turning crouch (quarter-bend) attention! mark time mark time on toes faster running in place stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work bring men into company line and "count off." explain "squad" formation. march mile and a quarter in column of squads. take a stiffer grade. no talking in ranks. keep to thirty-inch stride and give it a regular beat. no sloppiness. make it a firm, steady march, and keep urging the men to breathe deeply and steadily. seventh day attention! right face left face about face repeat attention! balancing (on one foot--to right and left) stride stand heel-raising body-bending sideways mark time mark time on toes faster running in place stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work company formation. count off. "squads right--march!" mile and a quarter. silence in ranks. erect carriage. hips back. deep breathing. steady thirty-inch stride. stiff incline. no lagging, but take it much the same as on the level. on the way, in some five minutes after the grade has been covered, give them "double time" for about twenty steps. [illustration: effect of these exercises, showing even muscular development] eighth day attention! right face left face about face repeat attention! arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) stride stand crouch (quarter-bend) attention! arms cross arms stretch palms front bring arms downward and backward mark time mark time on toes faster running in place stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work company formation. count off. "squads right--march!" while marching explain to them "to the rear--march," and have them do it three or four times. distance mile and a half, with same hill work as before. give them "double time" for twenty steps twice during the march. ninth day attention! forward--march (three steps and come to "attention!") same steps backward same steps sideways make complete square (three steps forward, three to the right, three backward, and three to the left) hips firm neck firm body prone body backward bend body sideways bend mark time mark time on toes faster running in place stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work get some bars of iron, one inch in diameter and three feet long. they should cost fifty cents apiece, and weigh about eight pounds. give half the company these bars to carry, and at the middle of the hike transfer them to the other half to bring home. distance mile and a half. no "double time." carry the bars by the middle in the hands, and then for a time behind the back and through the elbows, with the hands in front. tenth day attention! arms cross body and knee bend, turning on hips and touching floor with hand (first one and then the other. the right hand on bending right knee and the left hand on bending left knee). attention! hips firm neck firm body prone body backward bend attention! stride stand arms cross balancing (on one foot--to right and left) crouch (quarter-bend) attention! mark time mark time on toes faster running in place attention! stepping deep breathing hike or outdoor work carry bars, distance mile and a quarter, every man carrying his bar all the way. "double-time" them once during march for twenty steps. insist on erect carriage all the way, with neck back against collars. part ii the daily dozen a condensed system of either group or individual setting-up exercises chapter vii we may now consider the question of time-saving for those who may be obliged to largely forego pleasurable exercise and who yet desire to keep fit and well in spite of this deprivation. there are two divisions in this class, as may be shown in the case of the present world war. the first class embraces all the men in active service, with two subdivisions--officers who are over forty and officers and privates who are under that age. the second class comprises the men (and women, too, for that matter) who, unable to do service at the front, must support the troops in various ways behind the lines. it is said that it takes five men behind the line to support one man at the front, and, judging from the pressure that already has come upon our people, this is manifestly not an incorrect statement. these reserves must be kept in good physical condition, and with this end in view the writer has prepared a modified form of setting-up exercises which has been tested out with large numbers in actual practice. these exercises are intended to prepare the younger men for the more strenuous training which they are to undergo later; in the case of the older men, they are to be used before entering upon the ordinary day of business routine. after a great deal of study a system has been devised which answers the needs in both cases; it is not too strenuous for the older men, and it will add suppleness, vitality, and endurance to the physical assets of the younger men. a modern physical system we know how, in the stress of affairs brought about by war, not only individuals, but nations are suddenly awakened to the fact that what may have been good enough even a year ago is antiquated and out of date to-day. under the pressure of war we are driven, whether we wish it or not, to put to immediate test virtually every fact of our daily lives. we find that almost every machine and well-nigh every method may be improved--in fact, that it must be improved. boats, aeroplanes, guns, industrial processes, even the actual business of living itself, all are being submitted to the test of emergency and are being made over upon new lines. so it is with our setting-up exercises. we can no longer afford to waste time or motion or effort. we are teaching on an intensive scale and we must take nothing out of a man in preparation; rather we must add to his store of vitality and energy. perhaps we find that the routine of his ordinary work will strengthen sufficiently his legs and arms. this is astonishingly true. what we must now do is to supple him, to quicken his co-ordination, to improve his poise, and to put his trunk and thorax into better shape. we must give him endurance, quickness of response, and resistive force. this, therefore, being our problem, we eliminate the arm and leg exercises and go directly for the trunk and thorax. we must quicken co-ordination and improve the man's rapidity of response to command. and standing out above all is this major principle: "no vitality should be taken out of a man by these setting-up exercises; he should not be tired out, but rather made ready for the regular work of the day." out-of-date ideas this war in which we are engaged has brought to our people some all-compelling truths. and the greatest of these is that our men, the flower of our racial stock, are deficient physically when put to the test before examining-boards. when one sees some two thousand men examined by draft boards to secure two hundred men for our army, as happened in some cases, when one reads that in a physical examination for the sanitary police force in cleveland thirty-seven out of forty-two women passed and only twenty-two men out of seventy-two, one is ready indeed to believe that we have failed to produce men who can be called upon when the need arises to defend our country. [illustration: incorrect position, showing how most men slack in swedish exercises by letting the back bend] our athletic sports have produced the right spirit, as the rush of athletes to the service has shown. but our calisthenics, our general building-up exercises have apparently failed in the physical development of our youth. they are antique. permit me to illustrate. only recently professor bolen, the authority on swedish exercises, died and left behind him the record of his work. after twenty-five years of study he had decided that setting-up exercises were unnecessary in the case of a man's legs or arms or pectoral muscles, and that the attention should be devoted to the trunk--that is, to the engine itself. old-time fallacies here is what was once considered to be a reasonable morning "setting-up" exercise, and which, if coupled with a five-mile rapid walk and hopping first on one foot and then on the other for a half-mile, would prepare a man for his day's work. on rising, let him stand erect, brace his chest firmly out, and, breathing deeply, curl dumbbells (ten pounds each for a 165-pound man) fifty times without stopping. then placing the bells on the floor at his feet, and bending his knees a little and his arms none at all, let him rise to an upright position with them fifty times. after another minute's rest, standing erect, let him lift the bells fifty times as far up and out behind him as he can, keeping the elbows straight and taking care, when the bells reach the highest point behind, to hold them still there a moment. next, starting with the bells at the shoulders, let him push them up high over the head and lower them fifty times continuously. is it any wonder that we abandoned such "setting-up"? again, it was pointed out how, by special exercises, a man might increase his biceps two or three inches in a year and the calves of his legs an inch or two! now what was the average man to do this for? what was the object? to admire himself in the mirror? or did he intend to make of himself a professional weightlifter? practically the only real good in all this was the deep breathing, and that would not be lasting except in so far as a part of the exercises tended to open up the chest. how many of us have heard that fairy-tale that if we practised deep breathing for a few minutes daily our lungs would acquire the habit and we should continue it unconsciously when seated at our desks! a perfectly useless stunt just to show what we are _not_ attempting to do, here is a quotation illustrating perfectly the old-fashioned idea that health depends upon extraordinary muscular development: at our suggestion he began practising this simple raising and lowering of the heels. in less than four months he had increased the girth of each calf one whole inch. when asked how many strokes a day he averaged, he said that it was from fifteen hundred to two thousand, varied some days by his holding in each hand, during the process, a twelve-pound dumbbell, and then only doing one thousand or thereabouts. the time he found most convenient was in the morning on rising, and just before retiring at night. the work did not take much time; seventy strokes a minute was found a good ordinary rate, so that fifteen minutes at each end of the day was all he needed. we new recognize how silly are such exercises taken for the mere sake of adding an inch or two to an already serviceable muscle. penny-wise and pound-foolish it is poor gymnastics when the main object is to expend a certain number of foot-pounds of energy to secure increase in cardiac and pulmonary activity, without care being taken that these organs are in a favorable condition to meet the increased demand put upon them. it is poor gymnastics if we desire to astound the world by nicely finished and smoothly gliding combinations of complex movements fit to be put into the repertoire of a juggler, or by exhibitions of strength vying with those of a sandow, if we do not take into consideration the effects upon the vital functions. "look at these fellows," said the physician, "built like giants and rotten inside!" true, he was speaking of a lot of big negroes, but he found the same condition in others--men with stiff muscles and slow movements, men with shoulders pulled forward and no chest expansion, breathing wholly with their abdomens. as he put it, "those men will to-morrow be the recruits for another army, the one which fills the tuberculosis hospitals." nature's process what we want is suppleness, chest expansion, resistive force, and endurance; and these do not come from great bulging knots of muscle nor from extraordinary feats of strength. rapid shifts from severe training to a life of ease and indulgence is not nature's process. it is not the way in which she carries on her work. every step she makes is a little one. she seems never to reckon time as an essential in her economy. we should heed the lesson. the man who eats, drinks, and neglects all care of himself for a year, and then rushes madly into a period of severe physical exercise and reduction, may at the end of the month, if he possesses sufficient vitality, come out feeling fine. but if he repeats the process of letting himself go, nature puts on the fat more and more and a second severe reduction becomes necessary. and it is only a question of time as to the exhaustion of any man's vitality through these extremes. time the great element any one who has had the opportunity of talking with the men in authority who are bearing the burden of fitting a nation for the present emergency cannot fail to be impressed with the fact that time is the great element. we must really prepare our men, we must make them fit in the shortest space of time that will accomplish the result. and we must conserve our man-power. it is no longer a question of putting on such severe work as shall weed out all but the physical giants; we are not trying (as seemed to be the idea in the first plattsburg camps, before the war) to make the going so stiff as to leave us only 50 per cent. of hardened men. we want every man who can be brought along rapidly into condition, and not the strongest only. hence the problem takes on a new phase. we all recognize that the quality and previous training of the men this country is sending into service have a very potent bearing upon the length of time required to make fighters of them. for, after all, the man whose training and discipline have been along a kindred line becomes serviceable much earlier than the man who has to acquire the necessary spirit and quality. no one who has listened to the coaches of our various college teams, or who has read either the preliminary prospects of a game or the account of it afterward, but must have been impressed with the continual repetition of emphasis upon the "fighting spirit." hence, when our athletes flock almost _en masse_ to the colors, it means that we are enlisting a large number of picked men who have been in training both mentally and physically, and who, under discipline, will make obedient, courageous, and enthusiastic fighters. but a large number of these have been out of college or out of strenuous athletics a year or two, or longer, and they need physical conditioning to get back. there is thus a new idea of considerable importance involved in these condensed setting-up exercises. for the world does move, and those who thought themselves up to date on boats, aeroplanes, drill, and the like have found even within a year that they must make acquaintance with advanced theories and new and improved methods. essential principles probably the most vital point is that the setting-up exercises should not "take it out of the men." if we find a man exhilarated and made eager to work at the end of his setting-up we have accomplished far more than if we tire him out or exhaust any of his store of vitality. if, in addition to this, we can reduce the amount of time occupied in these setting-up exercises and yet obtain results, we have saved that much more time for other work. because they did take it out of the men, the old-time conventional setting-up exercises were shirked and the leaders were unable to detect this shirking; men went through the motions, but slacked the real work. furthermore, all these systems tended to take a longer period of time than was necessary to accomplish the desired results, and made "muscle bound" the men who practised them. it has been found in sports and athletic games that over-developed biceps, startling pectoral muscles, and tremendously muscled legs are a disadvantage rather than an advantage. the real essential is, after all, the engine, the part under the hood, as it were--lungs, heart, and trunk. finally, if we give a man endurance and suppleness he becomes more available in time of need. another point of equal importance is that the setting-up exercises should be rendered as simple as possible. if we are obliged to spend a considerable period of time in teaching the leader so that he can handle setting-up exercises, extension of the number of leaders is rendered increasingly difficult. if, therefore, we can make this leadership so simple that a long course of instruction is not necessary, we save here, in these days of necessarily rapid preparation, a very material amount of time. still, further, it is found that many of the present setting-up exercises made an extraordinarily wide variation of effort between heavy and light men. the light man would put in only a small amount of muscular effort, whereas the heavy man, in the same length of time and under the same exercise, would be taxed far more than he could comfortably stand. again, in the point of age, similar variations necessarily exist. naturally it is out of the question to assume that the youth from eighteen to twenty-five and the man of fifty-five to sixty can take the same amount and the same kind of exercise. on the other hand, if we consider the work each is required to do in his daily routine, we can, so far as the setting-up exercises are concerned, bring the two points nearer together, especially if we regard these setting-up exercises in the proper light--a mere preparation for the more onerous tasks that are to follow. modern physical education bearing all these points in mind, we test out the setting-up exercises so that we may obtain a set answering the following requirements: first--reduce them to a period of eight or ten minutes once or twice a day. second--make them simple for leaders to learn. third--eliminate movements that, on account of the daily work, are unnecessary. fourth--render them more difficult of evasion or shirking. fifth--direct them specifically in the line of increased resisting power, endurance, and suppleness. sixth--make them of value in establishing co-ordination, muscular control, and more prompt response to command. seventh--equalize them for use by both heavy and light men. eighth--select the exercises in such a way that the set may be of nearly equal value to both enlisted men and officers, as well as to executives behind the lines. slacking in setting-up drills many of us have seen setting-up drills of various kinds. moving pictures of such drills show in a very striking way how much of the work not only could be slacked, but _is_ being slacked right along. in fact, high officers in our service have become so disgusted with the setting-up exercises as to consider abandoning them altogether. in some stations or cantonments a great many men were tired out with the setting-up exercises; so much so that they had neither life nor vitality for some little time for other work. for the sake of illustration, let us examine one particular movement. it consists of the men lying flat on the ground or floor; then, with straight back, lifting themselves by the arms; finally, giving a jump with the arms and clapping the hands together once, and then coming back to the original position. the non-commissioned officer who was leading this exercise weighed about 138 pounds. it is easy to imagine the contrast between his doing this stunt and a heavy man of 180 or 190 pounds attempting it. it is unnecessary to describe in detail the parts of the setting-up exercise which tend to develop members which are already pretty thoroughly exercised in the daily routine of work and drill. the average man of the service needs expansion of chest capacity, which adds to his resistive power; a stronger, better-developed back; and suppleness and quickness and mobility of trunk. to develop these qualities we must have exercises which may be continued on board ship or near the front, and which can be carried on without apparatus. [illustration: leg-raising] [illustration: side-falling. this arm and body work places a handicap on a heavy man] the ordinary system of setting-up exercises has been growing out of favor for some time. athletic trainers have come to look with considerable suspicion upon the gymnasium-made candidate with big biceps and large knots of muscles. it was also found that, outside of weight-lifting and inordinate "chinning" and apparent great strength on the parallel bars, these men were not so valuable as the lesser muscled but more supple candidates. to put it briefly, it was found in actual practice that what was under the ribs was of more value than what lay over them. a call for work that will count even at the risk of repetition, some facts should be driven home. we are now working under conditions that should especially emphasize the fact of time-saving. we must take ourselves seriously, whether we are in the lines or behind the lines. in the eight million men in this country between the ages of forty-five and sixty-four are the country's greatest executives and financiers. we can no longer give these executives and financiers two months in the south in the winter and a long summer vacation. we can no longer let a plattsburg camp be a strenuous sifting out, a mere survival of the physically fittest. we need every man whom we can make available, and we need him with his vitality fully preserved and his endurance appreciably heightened. some are stronger, naturally, than others. in football parlance we are no longer trying to pick a team out of a squad of two hundred men; we are trying to get a hundred and seventy-five out of the two hundred that can stand a fair pace and have enough left to fight with when they get there. any one who has been in touch with affairs in washington, any one who has been engaged in our munition-plants and in our factories, any one who has worked upon liberty bond drives or red cross fund-raising, knows that if we are to support our boys on land and sea, these men who are trying to solve the problems of executive management, and who have the task of raising funds in thousandfold increased volume, must be also carefully conserved. for, after all, even though we spell patriotism with a capital p and government with a capital g, even though army and navy orders take precedence, there is one great mistress of all, dame nature! and when she taps a man on the shoulder and says, "quit!" that man stops; and when he offers the excuse that he has done it out of patriotism and loyalty she merely says: "i don't care why you did it, you have finished!" and there is no appeal to washington from her verdict. the big problem we shall soon hear the call for more men, men to fight and men to support the men who fight. the game is on. we are all in it now, either on the field or on the side-lines. we need to train for it fast and we have no time to waste. for, after all, it is condition that tells. it is the man who can stay, who can work at highest efficiency, and who can hold out the longest who is going to be most valuable. if we save even ten minutes a day in the setting-up exercises, we save, with a hundred thousand men, 16,666 hours daily toward perfecting their other knowledge. if we can make an able officer or a competent executive last a year longer or even six months under the increased strain, it gives us a year or six months more in which his understudy can gather the necessary experience to take up his task. [illustration: arm and body work. this exercise places a handicap on a heavy man] [illustration: alternate leg-raising] millions of our youth are going out to fight, but disease and exhaustion will kill more of them than will the guns of the enemy. thousands of men of the best brain-power in this country are going into committee-rooms and conferences every day from nine in the morning till twelve at night to devise better and more efficacious means of stopping the progress of the hun. if these men's brains are of value, and we know they are, then the more clearly they act and the longer they last, the better for the country. the need for a condensed system of calisthenics the demonstration, with a group of busy business executives and professional men, of the possibility of physical fitness at a small expenditure has been already mentioned. this idea has spread and many units of the senior service corps have been organized. the writer's services were later on drafted into national work. at the call of the secretary of the navy, he was asked to take a position on the naval commission to develop athletic sports and games and physical fitness in our men at the various naval stations. in one week alone requests came from over four hundred communities to establish units of this work among business and professional men. finding that it was impossible to answer all these calls, the writer devoted himself personally to a class in washington, consisting of several cabinet members, officials of the federal reserve board, and others, and these men profited extremely from the work. but this should be done on a far larger scale. the hon. daniel c. roper, who was a member of the original class in washington, requested the writer to come down and spend a month or six weeks in washington, to organize drill groups in the various departments, several of them, like the department of the interior, having received requests to the number of three hundred or four hundred from men who wished to make themselves better fit physically for the work of these strenuous days. this, together with the demands from so many communities throughout the country, show that we are all now awake to the necessity of this cardinal feature of the nation's welfare, the physical fitness and stamina of its youth and men. this new gospel cannot be spread by one individual missionary, although there is little doubt that, wherever the story is told, thousands of our overworked and under-exercised men are glad to avail themselves of the opportunity. [illustration: extra leg work. this exercise places a handicap on a heavy man] this is the reason why the author has been led to devise a set of exercises that can be put in small compass, as regards both instruction and time required. here follows a brief syllabus of the plan, in the hope of placing it within reach of men who can afford but little time for anything outside of their pressing office duties. we can no longer take delightful vacations of indefinite length to restore our waning vitality. the country needs every man and needs him at the best of his power. a reasonable program no matter how driven a man may be, it seems only reasonable to think that he should be able to spend ten minutes twice a day on a condensed system, or setting-up exercise, adding to it an outdoor walk of half an hour. by this means he can keep himself physically fit to bear the burdens which are falling more and more heavily upon the shoulders of us all. the men who are going to the front first should have every chance of conserving their vitality and increasing their resistive forces. those of us who must do work behind the lines should be kept equally fit for that larger work without which the machine must inevitably break down. the method is scientific and it has been tested on men of all ages from eighteen to seventy. it embodies the elimination of all wasted effort and concentration upon points of approved and essential worth. it is as much a man's duty to make himself fit and to keep himself in that condition as it is to carry on any other part of his work. this method should be adopted not only in every department at washington, but throughout the country; it should be taught in our schools and colleges, and so thoroughly that never again in a world-wide crisis shall we find ourselves physically unprepared. chapter viii vacillation and doubt are poison to the nerves. this is the reason why it is advisable to teach co-ordination, prompt response to the command of the brain over the muscles, and the general sense of self-control which comes to a man when he has only to think in order to turn that thought into quick action. one of the penalties of the executive position is that, although the man begins as a disciplined private, when he goes up higher and gradually reaches the point where he gives commands only, and never has any practice in obeying them, he gets the habit of pushing buttons to make other people jump, while there are no buttons pushed to make him jump. worry and fear now as to worry. it has been said, and not untruly, that one of the very largest causes of worry is bodily weakness. and in more than a majority of cases this weakness comes from poor physical condition. a good digestion and proper elimination seem to make the organism move smoothly, not alone with muscles, but with nerves. hence if we get the engine right, the lungs doing their duty, the skin acting as it should, and the bowels and kidneys taking off the waste products, we generally find a robust man, little given to that most expensive habit, "worry." fear is the forerunner of illness. there is nothing quite so effective in producing a bad condition of the human system as fear, and this fear is what worry develops into; later it becomes pure, downright cowardice. worry makes cowards. if a man has enough worry and anxiety, fear follows in its wake, and then the man becomes a mental and moral and often a physical coward. the fatal mistake the average man, when he is pressed to overwork, thinks that by cutting out some of his exercise and devoting that extra time to his work he can accomplish more. there never was a greater mistake; in the long run this method is the most expensive of all. no factory manager would think of running his automatic machines twice as long with half the amount of oil, and yet that is just what the man is trying to do in this case. the result is that he gradually piles up the various toxic products within himself until self-poisoning is inevitable. all his organs struggle to eliminate these poisons, but, being given no assistance, they gradually become less and less efficient, and then begins the payment of the penalty, for nature never forgives this kind of treatment. from a practical, useful running machine he retrogrades into something fit only for the scrap-heap. the history is the same in all cases, although it may be more or less prolonged. the discomfort, occasional slight illnesses, the gradual loss of effective thought and power to concentrate, lack of appetite, unreasonable temper, insomnia, nerve diseases, and perhaps a complete nervous and physical breakdown if the conditions are not recognized in time, are the varying punishments inflicted by nature. [illustration: arch work] i have referred to nature's order, "you must earn your bread by the sweat of your brow." almost every one, in these modern days of civilization, is earning his bread in some other way; well, he must make up for this by some kind of exercise or else nature will surely take her toll. when men were earning their bread by the sweat of their brows they were not always sure of getting a surplus of it, and that was not a half-bad thing. in fact, it was far better for the race than present conditions under which so many men have given up physical work altogether. but instead of cutting down on their food they double up on it. something out of a bottle the usual temporary panacea for these ills of the flesh is to get some so-called "specific" in the form of a medicine and gobble it religiously. thousands of men and women, who are unwilling to take five or ten minutes' exercise two or three times a day, will swallow something out of a bottle on a spoon before each meal, with a splendid satisfaction and confidence. perhaps temporarily it produces improved results. at any rate, it gives a sense of mental satisfaction, and that something stands off the trouble for a while. there is still another method which has some show of reason in it, although, after all, it does not compare with the wiser, saner course. a man or woman is persuaded that if he or she will only give up some particularly attractive self-indulgence the result will be increased health and vigor. for instance, there is a common belief that tea or coffee is the cause of many ills. perhaps this is true, but the giving up of tea or coffee will never cure the ills that come from lack of exercise, loss of fresh air, over-eating, and over-indulgence. the mere fact that a person is giving up something that he likes does not make him immune to the penalties which he incurs day after day by other offenses against the laws of nature. conserving the president's health rear-admiral carey t. grayson, personal physician and health director to president wilson, says: "you may make the statement, in so many words, that physical exercise has been the means of making a normal, physically perfect man of the president. and when a man is in a normal condition he is in perfect health and physical trim. that was the initial intention in this case, just to make the president physically fit, and to keep him so." richard m. winans says: "the admiral told me that when he first took charge of the president, mr. wilson was not a little averse to taking any sort of exercise. however, doctor grayson early succeeded in impressing upon mr. wilson that good health was an absolutely important factor in dealing with the grilling duties which would face him during the coming four years, and that his physical well-being was vital not only to himself, but to the welfare of the entire country." the president has a dislike almost akin to abhorrence for mechanical appliances intended to exercise the muscles of the body. there is not a dumbbell, or an indian club, nor a medicine-ball, nor a punching-bag, nor a turning-bar, nor a trapeze, nor a lifting or pulling apparatus, nor a muscle--exercising machine of any sort or description in the white house. the only mechanical device used by the president is a simple, unoffending golf-club. [illustration: spring work.] aside from his work in the open air, mr. wilson takes a number of physical exercises indoors, very few of which have ever been described in print. some of these exercises are taken as a substitute for outdoor recreations at times when weather conditions are too extreme. but the major part of them, and especially the more unusual of these exercises, are regularly practised as a part of his daily routine. as a matter of fact, they are pretty closely dove-tailed in with his office work. flexing exercises however, if the president really has a favorite among his various physical exercises, it is said to be that of "flexing." this he employs almost entirely as an indoor exercise, and it perhaps is the one he practises more often than any other. "flexing," as doctor grayson put it into its simplest every-day term, is nothing more nor less than just good, old-fashioned "stretching" expressed in a scientific and systematized form of exercise. it is the most generally and commonly executed muscular exercise, and it is practised by nearly all the animal kingdom. president wilson uses his flexing movements with a careful regard to system, and a great deal more regularly and frequently than any other of his varied physical exercises. particularly during his periods of concentration, when at work at his desk in the preparation of his messages to congress or in the drafting of notes to foreign governments, the president, at short intervals, will either settle back in his chair and flex his arms and hands and the muscles across his back and chest, or he will rise and stand erect for a more thorough practice of the flexing movements for a period of a minute or more. at these times he will throw his body into almost every conceivable posture--twisting, turning, bending, stooping, the arms down, forward, back, and over his head, the muscles of the limbs and entire body flexed almost to the point of tremor, the fingers spread, and the muscles rigidly tensed. in the opinion of doctor grayson, if business and professional men, particularly those who work at high tension in the cities, would pause in their work at frequent intervals during the day and give a few seconds of their time to the energetic practice of the flexing or stretching exercises, there would soon come to be not only less, but, possibly in time, no cases reported of this or that noted man, the famous lawyer, merchant, or financier, dropping dead at his desk or in his home or in the street, on account of apoplexy caused by hardened arteries. one of mr. wilson's principal physical movements is that of body-twisting. with the toes at a slight outward angle, the heels touching and the body erect, he begins the movement by twisting the body a little more than half-way around; then swinging back in an arc, at the same time bending at the hips, until he has completed the circle and reached a hip-bending position, with the fingers of one hand touching the floor, the other extended vertically. this gives a stretching movement to all of the muscles of the torso, side, back, and abdomen, as well as considerable play to the muscles of the legs and arms. the unpleasant self-awakening we as a nation, through the revelation of the draft, have been suddenly thrown upon the public screen as physically deficient. and that, too, when the echoes of the eagle screaming over successes in the world olympic games had hardly done sounding in our satisfied ears. naturally, we don't like it. deep down in our consciousness we are not only dissatisfied with the picture, but we feel that somehow it is distorted; we are hoping to prove that even a photograph does not always tell the truth, at least not the whole truth. yet in this search for the truth there are some facts that we must face and admit. the first of these is that as a race--blended, if you please, but still the people of a nation--we are ambitious and hurried. we act a great deal more than we think. cricket is too slow for us; only baseball has the fire and the dash we like. we haven't quite enough time even for that, and so we begin to leave the stands before the game is over, craning our necks as we walk along toward the exits for a last glimpse, and then rushing madly to get on the first car out. all this is typical of our life. we have had a measure of benefit from our athletics. they are a spur toward physical development as long as they last. but no sooner are school-days drawing to an end than we begin the mad rush--toward what? to see how fast we can make money or name or position. we take a final look backward at the last inning of these sports of ours, and then we rush out into the world of american hustle. the lucky ones prolong their playtime a little by a college course, but they, too, finally abandon sport in favor of business and let themselves go slack until they lose condition. a week or two in the summer, a fort-night's orgy of exercise, and then back to the grind of factory or desk. how can this way of living keep even a young man fit? golf has been a godsend to the older man whose pocket-book can stand it, but what about the youth? and when pressure comes on the older man he quickly gives up his golf at the demand of business. [illustration: arm and body work. this places a handicap on a heavy man.] [illustration: high-stride stoop falling.] why men don't keep fit men who have really kept themselves fit are few. those who have conscientiously started in to do this and then abandoned it are a host. there are valid reasons for this lamentable state of affairs. first--because the antiquated systems under which these men have attempted the task have (1) occupied too much time; (2) left men tired instead of refreshed; (3) exercised muscles which get all they need in a man's ordinary pursuits. secondly--because the instructors who have taught these systems have laid stress upon (1) mere increase in size of the muscles; (2) ability to do "stunts" which are of no practical use to a man; (3) unnecessary use of apparatus. thirdly--because they made necessary the services of a teacher to (1) lead the exercises; (2) keep track of their number and variety; (3) give special treatment to produce results. but these mistakes are in the past. let us look toward a brighter, saner, and more productive future. chapter ix the following chapters give a set of exercises carefully tested upon thousands of men, and these exercises will be fully explained so that any individual reader may practise them daily and secure their full benefit. to each chapter are appended a few health hints, couched in language that is brief and to the point, in order that they may be readily remembered. the object is to make an efficient working-machine of the man without useless effort, to increase that man's resistive force against disease, to add to his suppleness and endurance, to give him poise and balance, and to develop co-ordination or control over his muscles. by doing this his power to work will be augmented, and at the same time any work that he does will be accomplished more readily and with less effort. finally his cheerfulness will be increased, and those who work with him or under him or about him will be spared the disagreeable experiences that accompany association with a man whose irritability and irascibility have become part of his daily habit. a shorthand method we call this system the "daily dozen set-up." it is a shorthand system of setting-up exercises for use on any and all occasions. the "daily dozen set-up" consists of twelve exercises which, for ease in memorizing, are divided into four groups of three exercises each. each exercise or movement is given a name, and the names of all the movements of a group commence with the same letter, thus: group i group ii group iii group iv 1. hands 4. grind 7. crawl 10. wave 2. hips 5. grate 8. curl 11. weave 3. head 6. grasp 9. crouch 12. wing these exercises are not difficult nor exhausting, and do not demand great strength for their proper execution. they are designed, both from a scientific and a practical point of view, to give exactly the right amount of exercise to every muscle of the body. they are intended to promote suppleness, and especially to strengthen those muscles which are seldom brought into play in ordinary daily life. a conscientious fifteen minutes a day with the "daily dozen" will soon do more for a man than any amount of skilled physical feats or "strong-man stunts." when one first practises these movements their effect will be felt on the little-used muscles of the neck, back, and stomach; yet they will not leave the pronounced muscular fatigue which follows the ordinary exercises and which does more harm than good. health maxims dress to be cool when you walk and warm when you ride. clean skin, clean socks, clean underwear every day. getting mad makes black marks on the health. sleep woos the physically tired man; she flouts the mentally exhausted. nature won't stand for overdrafts any more than your bank. in a squad it is the job of each individual to make himself fit, for it is his example that helps the rest. the leader may be no better than you, but some one must give the orders and set the pace. two things are essential to a clean skin; one is bathing and a rub-down, but the other is still more important, and that is perspiration. food, water, and oxygen are the fuel for running the human machine. you never saw a dog fill his mouth with food and then take a drink to wash it down. chapter x any setting-up exercises should be preparatory--that is, they should make men ready for the serious work of their day, and in no way exhaust any portion of their vitality. this modern "shorthand" method of setting-up leaves men in an exhilarated condition, and, instead of taking anything out of them, it prepares the body for any kind of work that may be required. each exercise starts from the position of "attention," which is thus described in the army manual: heels on the same line and as near each other as the conformation of the man permits. feet turned out equally and forming with each other an angle of about sixty degrees. knees straight without stiffness. [illustration: fig. 1.--hands the description of this exercise is the same as that given for the military command of "attention," and the following points should be carefully noted: it is not difficult to acquire a certain amount of accuracy in this position, but one of the easiest ways of getting men to assume it properly is to tell them to push their necks back. this seems more effective than to speak of holding the chin in with the head erect, or anything of that kind. if a man stands naturally and then forces the back of his neck back against his collar, he comes into very nearly the desired position of "attention" so far as his head and neck are concerned. the shoulders should be rolled a little downward and back, for that is the sensation which comes when one speaks of the shoulders being square. the chest should be arched and the abdomen drawn in somewhat. the effect is that of a man standing erect and feeling himself a little taller than usual.] body erect on hips, inclined a little forward; shoulders square and falling equally. arms and hands hanging naturally, backs of the hands outward; thumbs along the seams of the trousers; elbows near the body. head erect and straight to the front, chin slightly drawn in without constraint, eyes straight to the front. (see fig. 1.) each movement, with the exception of the "speed test" (a catch exercise with which any man may test his rapidity of action and co-ordination), should be executed in a slow and measured manner. these exercises do not depend upon snap for their effect, but upon the steady, deliberate, but not extreme stretching of the muscles. any tendency toward hurried, careless execution should be avoided in favor of uniformity of movement. group i hands: this is the same position as "attention." (see fig. 1.) [illustration: fig. 2.--hips the position called "hips" is that of "attention" with the hands placed on the hips, the fingers forward and the thumbs back, at the same time keeping the shoulders and elbows well back.] especial care should be taken to see that whenever, throughout the exercises, this position is taken--as at the completion of each movement--full control is retained over the arms; the hands should not be allowed to slap against the sides audibly. it is not difficult to acquire a certain amount of accuracy in this position, but one of the easiest ways of getting men to assume it properly is to tell them to "push their necks back." this seems more effective than to speak of holding the chin in with the head erect, or anything of that kind. if a man stands naturally and then forces the back of his neck back against his collar, he comes into very nearly the desired position of "attention," so far as his head and neck are concerned. the shoulders should be rolled a little downward and back, for that is the sensation which comes when one speaks of the shoulders being square. the chest should be arched and the abdomen drawn in somewhat. the effect is that of a man standing erect and feeling himself a little taller than usual. hips: the hands are placed on the hips, with shoulders, elbows and thumbs well back. (see fig. 2.) the position of "hips" is that of "attention" with the hands placed on the hips, the fingers forward and the thumbs back, at the same time keeping the shoulders and elbows well back. head: the hands are placed behind the neck, index finger-tips just touching and elbows forced back. (see fig. 3.) [illustration: fig. 3.--head in the position called "head" the body is still in the position of "attention," the neck pushed well back, the fingers and the hands just touching behind the neck, and the elbows not allowed to push forward but kept as far back as the shoulders.] in the position called "head" the body is still in the position of "attention," the neck pushed well back, the fingers and the hands just touching behind the neck, and the elbows not allowed to push forward but kept as far back as the shoulders. speed test: the above three exercises, "hands, hips, head," should be executed but a few times each, being preparatory to the "speed test." for this the pupil should concentrate his thought on running through the above set as rapidly as possible, at the same time making each position correct. health maxims success comes from service. don't make excuses. make good. if you feel tired, remember so does the other man. after a hearty meal, stand up straight for fifteen minutes. your squad is only as good as the poorer ones. don't be one of those. the success of the drill depends upon the concentration of each man of the squad. if you have a stake in life, it is worth playing the game for all there is in it. the man who gets things is the one who pulls up his belt a hole tighter and goes out after them. if you will save your smoke till after luncheon, you'll never have smoker's heart. a bath, cold if you please, hot if you must, with a good rub, starts the day right. chapter xi group ii grind: (the order is "shoulder grind. ready--cross. balance turn. grind!") assume the "cross"[2] position. (see fig. 2, chapter v.) the palms are then turned up, with the backs of the hands down and the arms forced back as far as possible. (see fig. 4.) [illustration: fig. 4.--grind in the "grind" special precaution should be taken not to let the center of the circle, that the hands are making, come in front of the shoulders; an attempt should almost be made to make the shoulder-blades meet. this is particularly necessary on the reverse.] then to a measured counting--"one, two, three, four, five," up to ten--circles of twelve-inch diameter are described with the finger tips, the latter moving forward and upward, the arms remaining stiff and pivoting from the shoulders. on the backward movement of the circle the arms should be forced back to the limit. a complete circle should be described at each count. then reverse, going through the same process, the circles being described in the opposite direction. in the "grind" exercises special precaution should be taken not to let the center of the circle, that the hands are making, come in front of the shoulders; it should be straight out in the horizontal position; moreover, as the arm goes backward an attempt should be made to make the shoulder-blades almost meet. this is particularly necessary on the reverse--that is, when the hands are coming forward--for here the tendency, unless men keep the shoulders back, is to contract the chest. grate: (the order is "shoulder grate. ready--cross. grate!") assume the "cross" position. then at a count of "one" the arms are slowly raised, as a deep inhalation is taken, to an angle of forty-five degrees from horizontal; at the same time the heels are raised till the weight of the body rests on the balls of the feet. (see fig. 5.) [illustration: fig. 5.--grate the caution in the "grate" position is not to let the arms drop, even a fraction of an inch, below the horizontal, and not to let them go up above the angle of forty-five degrees, for in either of these cases there is a distinct rest given to the shoulder muscles. most of the ordinary exercises of this kind carry the arms above the head; this always releases the effort of the shoulder muscle and is therefore nearly valueless as an exercise for these members. another fault in this exercise is letting the head come forward. the neck should be kept back all the time.] at "two" the arms are slowly returned to "cross" as all air is exhaled and the heels are lowered to a normal position. care should be taken to see that the arms are not allowed to drop below the level of the shoulders or to rise more than forty-five degrees. the arms should be raised and lowered ten times. the caution in the "grate" position is not to let the arms drop, even a fraction of an inch, below the horizontal, and not to let them go up above the angle of forty-five degrees, for in either of these cases there is a distinct rest given to the shoulder muscles. most of the ordinary exercises of this kind carry the arms above the head; this always releases the effort of the shoulder muscle and is therefore nearly valueless as an exercise for these members. another fault in this exercise is letting the head come forward. the neck should be kept back all the time. [illustration: fig. 5 a.--second position of grate] grasp: (the order is "head grasp. ready--cross. grasp!") assume the "cross" position. then place the hands behind the head. with head up and eyes front, and in time with the counting, "one, two, three, four," the body is bent forward from the waist as far as possible. (see fig. 6.) [illustration: fig. 6.--grasp in the "grasp" position it is not necessary to go to extremes on the backward movement; only so far as is really comfortable. in the forward movement the body should come down practically at right angles to the hips, but the head should not be allowed to drop forward. the head should be kept up, with the elbows back and the eyes looking to the front.] the body is returned to the upright in the same number of counts, and at an unusually slow "one" it is bent as far back as comfortable only from the waist, being returned to the upright at "two." care should be taken to see that this motion is slow and not jerky. the entire movement should be repeated five times. in the "grasp" position it is not necessary to go to an extreme on the backward movement; only so far as is really comfortable. in the forward movement the body should come down practically at right angles to the hips, but the head should not be allowed to drop forward. the head should be kept up, with the elbows back and the eyes looking to the front. health maxims vacillation and doubt are poison to the nerves. fear is the forerunner of illness. "eyes in the boat" is as good a maxim at drill as in a shell. when drinking a glass of water stand erect and take a full breath first; then drink with chest out and hips back and head up. the men who chase the golf-ball don't have to pursue the doctor. two hours of outdoor exercise by the master never yet made him over-critical of the cook. [illustration: fig. 6 a.--forward position of grasp] nature never punished a man for getting his legs tired. she has punished many for getting their nerves exhausted. the best record in golf is the record she has made of restored health to the middle-aged. see how high you can hold your head and deeply you can breathe whenever you are out of doors. six to eight glasses of water a day, none with meals, will make you free of doctors. footnotes: [footnote 2: on the "cross" position, the arms should be straight out horizontally from the body, with the elbows locked. at the same time every resistance should be placed against the head and neck coming forward at all. these should be held in exactly the same position as at "attention." the tendency is either to let the arms bend a little, or to let them drop a little below the horizontal, or even to hold them slightly above the level.] chapter xii group iii crawl: (the order is "crawl. ready--cross. crawl!") assume the "cross" position. the left palm is then turned up, and on a count of "one, two, three, four" the left arm is raised and the right arm is lowered laterally until at "four" the right arm should be in a position of "hands," while the left arm should be extended straight up, with the palm to the right. (see fig. 7.) [illustration: fig. 7 crawl, first position] [illustration: crawl in the "crawl" position it is not necessary, in the beginning of the exercise, to slide the hand down the hip any farther than is perfectly comfortable. but this distance should be gradually increased, and it will be found quite easy to do this as the muscles of the side become more and more supple.] then on the count of "one, two, three, four" the body is slowly bent sideways from the waist, the right hand slipping down the right leg to or beyond the knee, and the left arm bending in a half-circle over the head until the fingers touch the right ear. (see fig. 8.) at "four" the position of "cross" is quickly resumed, and at "two" of the next counting the right palm is turned up and the exercise is completed in the opposite direction. [illustration: fig. 8 crawl, second position] in the "crawl" position it is not necessary, in the beginning of the exercise, to slide the hand down the hip any farther than is perfectly comfortable. but this distance should be gradually increased, and it will be found quite easy to do this as the muscles of the side become more and more supple. curl: (the order is "curl. ready--cross. curl!") assume the "cross" position. in this movement, at "cross" the feet are spread until the heels are about twelve inches apart. the left foot remains stationary, the right foot being moved to accomplish this. on a count of "one, two, three, four," at the same time inhaling slowly, the fists and lower arms are bent down from the elbows, which are kept pressed back, and the fists are slowly curled up into the armpits. this position should be reached at "three," when the head and shoulders should be forced back rather strongly, reaching the limit of motion at "four." (see fig. 9.) again on the count of "one, two, three, four," at "one" the arms are extended straight forward from the shoulders, with the palms down, and exhalation is begun. [illustration 9. curl. in the "curl" position the head and shoulders should be thrown well back and the fists should go well up into the armpits. keep the elbows back so that the entire thorax is lifted forward and up; at the same time take a deep inhalation.] at "two" the arms begin to fall and the body bends forward from the waist, head up and eyes front, until, at "four," the body has reached the limit of motion and the arms have passed the sides and have been forced back and up (as the trunk assumes a horizontal position) as far as possible. at this point the abdomen should be well drawn in at the finish of exhalation. (note that in this figure the feet are together, an incorrect position for this exercise.) for a third time, on a count of "one, two, three, four" the body is straightened, reaching an upright position, with arms straight forward at "three." "cross" is assumed at "four." as the body is straightened from the "wing" position, a full breath should be taken, the lungs being filled, slowly, to the maximum as "curl" is finally reached. this breath should be retained and then exhaled as the "wing" position is taken. inhale through the nose. [illustration: crawl. at this point the raised arm should be curved over the head] the entire movement should be repeated five times. in the "curl" position the head and shoulders should be thrown well back and the fists should go well up into the armpits. keep the elbows back so that the entire thorax is lifted forward and up; at the same time take a deep inhalation. crouch: (the order is "crouch. ready--cross. crouch!") assume the "cross" position. in this movement, at "cross" the feet are spread until the heels are about twelve inches apart. the left foot remains stationary, the right foot being moved to accomplish this. on a count of "one" the knees are bent, and, with the weight on the toes, the body is lowered nearly to the heels, keeping the trunk as nearly erect as possible. (see fig. 10.) [illustration 10. crouch. the "crouch" is intended for the acquisition of balance and poise, but is also good exercise for the legs. the back is kept straight and the balance preserved throughout.] this is done at "one," and at "two" the upright position is resumed. the entire movement should be repeated ten times. the "crouch" position is intended for the acquisition of balance and poise; at the same time it is good exercise for the legs. the back should be kept straight and the balance preserved as the body goes up and down. this will be a little difficult at first, but will soon become natural. health maxims worry makes cowards. happiness comes from health, not from money. co-operation with others is the life of the squad. drill is a mental as well as a physical discipline. work will take your mind off most of your ills. obesity comes from overloading the stomach and underworking the body. nine-tenths of the "blues" come from a bad liver and lack of outdoor exercise. wearing the same weight underclothing the year around will save you a lot of colds. your nose, not your mouth, was given you to breathe through. short shoes and shoes that don't fit cost a lot in the long run. blood pressure does not come to the men who walk a lot out of doors; instead it looks for those who sit and eat a lot indoors. two men in an eight-oared shell may be able to go faster than the other six, but they never win the race that way. chapter xiii group iv wave: (the order is "wave. ready--cross. arms up. wave!") assume the "cross" position. the arms are then stretched straight above the head, the fingers interlaced and the arms touching the ears. (see fig. 11.) [illustration: fig. 11.--correct position, start of wave] on a count of "one, two, three, four" a complete circle, of about twenty-four inches in diameter, is described with the hands, the body bending only at the waist. the trunk should be bent as far backward as forward, and as far to one side as to the other. (see fig. 12.) [illustration 12. wave. in the "wave" the tendency is to go too far forward and not far enough back, the result being an unsymmetrical motion. it is very easy to go forward, but more difficult to make the motion to the side and back. care should be taken that the arms are kept squarely against the ears. the motion should be like waving the mast of a ship, the hips representing the deck and the trunk, head, and arms up to the top of the hands, the mast.] the body should be forward at "one," to the right at "two," backward at "three," and to the left at "four." the motion should be steady and not in jerks. at "reverse" the same movement should be repeated in the opposite direction--i.e. to the left. as the movement is completed for the fifteenth time the body should be brought to an erect position, stretching the arms up as far as possible; and at "rest" the arms should drop slowly, laterally, to a "hands" position. five circles should be described in each direction. in the "wave" the tendency is to go too far forward, and not far enough back, the result being an unsymmetrical motion. it is very easy to go forward, but more difficult to make the motion to the side and back. care should be taken that the arms are kept squarely against the ears. the motion should be like waving the mast of a ship, the hips representing the deck, while the trunk, head, and arms up to the top of the hands, represent the mast. this movement, like the others, should not be extreme at first, but gradually increased after a week or so. weave: (the order is "weave. ready--cross. weave!") assume the "cross" position. in this movement, at "cross" the feet are spread until the heels are about twelve inches apart. the left foot remains stationary, the right foot being moved to accomplish this. on a count of "one, two, three, four" the body is turned to the left from the hips, the arms maintaining the same relation to the shoulders as at "cross," until at "one" the face is to the left, the right arm pointing straight forward (in relation to the feet) and the left arm straight backward. (see fig. 13.) [illustration: fig. 13.--weave, first position] at "two" the body is bent from the waist so that the right arm goes down and the left up; and at "three" the fingers of the right hand touch the ground midway between the feet. the left arm should then be pointing straight up, with the face still to the left. the right knee must be slightly bent to accomplish this position. (see fig. 14.) [illustration: fig. 14.--weave in the "weave" care should be taken that the arms and shoulders are kept in one line. the turn begins with the arms horizontal until they are nearly at right angles to the "cross" position. then the knee commences to bend and the body bends at the trunk, the hip turning in until the finger tips touch the floor. at that time the arms and shoulders should still be in the same relative position as at the start--namely, in "cross" position.] at "four" the position of "cross" is resumed, and on a count of "one, two, three, four" the same movement is repeated, this time with the left hand touching the ground. throughout the exercise care should be taken that the arms remain in the same straight line, making no separate movement, but changing their position only as the trunk and shoulders are moved and carry the arms along. after this exercise has been thoroughly mastered, the turning and bending movements made on the counts "one" and "two" should be combined--_i.e._, instead of making the entire turn, as described above, turn and bend simultaneously. the entire movement should be repeated ten times. in the "weave" care should be taken that the arms and shoulders are kept in one line. the turn begins with the arms horizontal until they are nearly at right angles to the "cross" position. then the knee commences to flex and the body bends at the trunk, the hip turning in until the finger-tips touch the floor. at that time the arms and shoulders should still be in the same relative position as at the start--namely, in "cross" position. wing: (the order is "wing. ready--cross. arms up. wing!") this is a finishing exercise consisting of deep breathing and is performed slowly. on a count of "one, two, three, four" the arms are raised laterally until they are extended straight upward at "one" and a full inhalation is reached. (see fig. 15.) at "two" the arms begin to fall forward and downward, and the body bends forward from the waist up, and eyes front, until, at "four" the body has reached the limit of motion and the arms have passed the sides and have been forced back and up (as the trunk assumes a horizontal position) as far as possible. (see fig. 15a.) [illustration: fig. 15.--wing in the "wing" position, which is a final breathing exercise, the breath should be taken well in as the arms are raised over the head; then exhaled as the body and arms swing forward, with a final crowding out of some of the residual air by forcing in the abdomen as the arms are raised over the back. start the inhalation again as the arms come forward.] [illustration: fig. 15a.--end of wing] on a count of "one, two, three, four" the body is straightened, reaching an upright position, with arms vertically extended, at "three." at "four" the arms are lowered to a "cross" position, but with palms up and arms and shoulders forced hard back. very slow counting is essential to the correct execution of this exercise. all air should be forced from the lungs as the body bends forward to the "wing" position, and they should be filled to capacity as the body is straightened and the arms brought down. inhale through the nose. the entire movement should be repeated five times. health maxims preparedness is nine-tenths physical strength and endurance. if you take more food than the digestion can handle, you not only tire the stomach, but the whole system. envy, jealousy, and wrath will ruin any digestion. you'll never get the gout from walking. tennis up to the thirties, but golf after forty. tight shoes have sent many a man to bed with a cold. leg weariness never yet produced brain fag. whenever you walk, stand up, with chin in, hips back, and chest out, and think how tall you are. courage and concentration will conquer most obstacles. the hurry of half a squad never brought the whole troop home. the army must have sound lungs and a good stomach quite as much as arms and ammunition. how to add ten years to your life and to double its satisfactions by s. s. curry, ph.d., litt.d. can you wake as wake the birds? in their joy and singing share? stretch your limbs as do the herds, and drink as deep the morning air? quick as larks on upward wing, can you shun the demon's wiles, promptly as the robins sing, can you change all frowns to smiles? can you spurn fear's coward whine, meet each day with joyous song? then will angels guard your shrine, joys be deep and life be long. boston school of expression book department pierce bldg., copley square copyright by s. s. curry 1915 to those who loyally responded to the dream and to those who by thought, word or act will aid the school of expression to perform its important function in education. qui transtulit sustinet as ancient exile at the close of day, paused on his country's farthest hills to view those valleys sinking in the distant blue where all the joys and hopes of childhood lay; so now across the years our thoughts will stray to those whose hearts were ever brave and true, who gave the hope and faith from which we drew the strength to climb thus far upon our way. as he amid the rocks and twilight gray, saw rocks and steeps transform to stairs, and knew he wandered not alone; so may we too see this, our tentless crag where wild winds play a bethel rise, and we here wake to know that down and upward angels come and go. contents page why and wherefore 7 i. significance of morning 11 ii. supposed secrets of health and long life 24 iii. what is an exercise? 43 iv. program of exercises 54 v. how to practice the exercises 84 vi. actions of every day life 102 vii. work and play 109 viii. significance of night and sleep 122 why and wherefore when over eighty years of age, the poet bryant said that he had added more than ten years to his life by taking a simple exercise while dressing in the morning. those who knew bryant and the facts of his life never doubted the truth of this statement. i have made inquiries lately among men who are eighty years of age, as to their method of waking up. almost without exception, i find that they have been in the habit of taking simple exercise upon rising and also before retiring. while studying voice in paris, over thirty years ago, my teacher was so busy that he had to take me before breakfast at an hour which, to a parisian, was a very early one. "vocal exercises may be more difficult at this time," he said, "but it is the best time. if we can start the day with the right exercise of the voice, the use of it all through the day will be additional right practice." later, when i studied with the elder lamperti in italy, i requested and secured an early hour in the morning for my lessons. in teaching i have always urged students to take their exercises the first thing in the morning. those who have taken my advice have later been grateful for the suggestion. if my own morning exercises are neglected, i feel as if i had missed a meal or had lost much sleep. i was never what is called physically strong; in fact, physicians have continually prophesied my downfall, yet all my life i have performed about three men's work, and by the use of a few exercises have probably doubled the length of my life. the subject of human development has always been of great interest to me. i have tried to investigate the various systems of gymnastics in all countries; and, teaching, as i have, about ten thousand the use of the voice and body in expression, i have studied training from a different point of view from that of most men. i have discovered that the voice cannot be adequately trained without also improving the body; that the improvement of the voice can be doubly accelerated if the body is considered a factor. i have also found, what is more important, that true exercises are all mental and emotional and not physical, and that both body and voice can never be truly improved except by right thinking and feeling. i, therefore, long ago came to certain conclusions which are not in accordance with common views. my convictions, however, have been the result, not only of experience, but of wide study and investigation. this book embodies a few points about health; without going deeply into the principles involved, a short programme is given, the practice of which has already accomplished marvelous results. the book embodies my own experiences, and obeys the scientific principles involved in training. it is meant to be a guide for home study and practice. the principles are applicable to everyone. it requires at first, patience, perseverance, and resolution at that moment in the day when we are most liable to be indifferent and negative, if not irresolute and discouraged. whoever resolutely undertakes to obey the suggestions will never regret doing so. in fact, it is not too much to claim that he will not only lengthen his life but double its satisfactions. every reader of the book is requested to become a member of the morning league, and whosoever does so and makes a report or writes to me fully about special weaknesses, habits, "besetting sins," or conditions will receive a letter of suggestions. this book and its companion, "the smile," are published as a part of the great work undertaken by the friends of the school of expression; the net receipts from the sale will go to the endowment fund of the institution. how to add ten years to your life i significance of morning "the year's at the spring and day's at the morn; morning's at seven; the hill-side's dew-pearled; the lark's on the wing; the snail's on the thorn; god's in his heaven- all's right with the world!" song from "pippa passes" robert browning browning's "pippa passes" is a parable or allegory of human life. though called a drama by its author, it embodies, like all plays of the highest type, other than dramatic elements. in exalted poetry the allegoric, lyric, epic and dramatic seem to be blended. an effort to separate them often seems academic and mechanical. pippa, a poor little silk-winding girl, who has never known father or mother, opens the poem. it is the early morning and she wakes with joyous anticipation of her holiday, her only one. she goes forth, and we hear her singing and we see her influencing, from her humble position in the background, "asolo's four happiest ones," who are brought by the action of the drama into the foreground. her character and that of the other persons of the play are well-defined; but the real theme of the poem is the unconscious influence that she exerts upon others. the primary element of dramatic art is the meeting of people and the influence they exert upon each other. there is no direct influence seemingly exerted upon pippa herself save at one point and even that is scarcely a conscious one. we feel that she is a type of the human soul. specific scenes, though intensely dramatic, are entirely separated from one another. accordingly if it is a drama, it is a drama of an unusual type. it regards the events of only one day; still that day is not literal; it is a symbol of the life of everyone. it is new year's day, but every day is the beginning of a new year. it is a holiday, yet all life, when normally lived, is dominated by love and sympathetic service, and is full of happiness. pippa sings as everyone should sing with the spirit of thanksgiving and love. she welcomes the day with joy as everyone should welcome life and its opportunities. she lies down to sleep at night, as we all do; her sun drops into a "black cloud" and she knows nothing of what she has really accomplished or of the revelation that is coming on the morrow. moreover, observe that the link of unity in the play is found in the songs of pippa. one might easily conceive her beautiful character as embodying the very soul of lyric poetry. hence, in reading the poem, we are impressed from the first with allegoric, lyric and epic, as well as dramatic elements. observe more closely her awakening. note the beautiful description, the gradually lengthening lines, indicative of the coming morning. [see page 16.] she expresses joy as she meditates over her new year's hymn. into this devotional lyric browning has breathed the spirit of all true life and service. "now wait!--even i already seem to share in god's love: what does new-year's hymn declare? what other meaning do these verses bear? all service ranks the same with god: if now, as formerly he trod paradise, his presence fills our earth, each only as god wills can work--god's puppets, best and worst, are we; there is no last nor first. say not "a small event!" why "small"? costs it more pain that this, ye call a "great event," should come to pass, than that? untwine me from the mass of deeds which make up life, one deed power shall fall short in, or exceed! and more of it, and more of it! oh, yes- i will pass each, and see their happiness, and envy none--being just as great, no doubt, useful to men, and dear to god, as they! a pretty thing to care about so mightily, this single holiday! but let the sun shine! wherefore repine? --with thee to lead me, o day of mine, down the grass path grey with dew, under the pine-wood, blind with boughs, where the swallow never flew nor yet cicala dared carouse- no, dared carouse!" from "pippa passes" robert browning as pippa leaves her room in the full spirit of this hymn, full of joy, hope and love, she passes into the street. we hardly catch a glimpse of her until the close of the day, when she comes back and lies down to sleep: but we hear her songs and see the influence which she unconsciously exerts. this is the real theme of the poem. browning's poetic play reveals to us in four scenes the other side of life, the happier people to whom pippa referred in her soliloquy. we look first into the interior of the old house of which pippa has spoken with a kind of awe, and see the proud ottima who owns the mills where pippa is but a poor worker. in the dark gloom of one of the rooms ottima has become the sharer in a murder, and, under the influence of pippa's song, which is heard outside, she and her companion realize their guilt and are overcome with remorse. at noon we are introduced to a young artist, jules, who is just bringing home his bride, phene, whom he has married thinking her a princess, but who is really a poor, ignorant child. she has been employed unconsciously, to herself, and innocently used by some degraded artists as a means of rebuking the idealist, jules. by this cruel trick they mean to crush him and reduce him to their own sensual level. even letters which jules has received from the supposed princess have been written by these perversions of human beings--who call themselves artists. in her lovely innocence phene is thrilled by jules' tenderness. her intuition tells her that something is wrong as she falters in rendering the lines the cruel painters have given her to read to jules. we see the blow fall upon the young dreamer as he makes the fearful discovery. in the agony of his disappointment he is about to renounce phene forever as the artists, waiting outside to sneer at him, expect. the poor, innocent being, in whom his kindness and tenderness have stirred to life for the first time her womanly nature, is about to be cast out to a life of degradation and misery, when pippa passes, singing. her song awakens jules to a higher feeling, to a more human and heroic determination; and the painters, waiting outside, are disappointed. in the evening pippa passes luigi, an italian patriot. he is meditating over the afflictions of his country and upon a plan to help it, while his mother is trying to dissuade him from the daring undertaking. the police and spies are waiting outside. if he goes he will not be arrested; if he stays they have orders to arrest him at once. at the moment of his wavering, when he is almost ready to obey his mother, pippa's song arouses anew his patriotic being, and he resolutely goes forth to do a true heroic deed for his country. thus pippa saves him from imprisonment and death. night brings the last scene in the dramatic events of the world influenced by pippa's songs. a room of the "palace by the dome," of which pippa seems to stand in so much awe, opens before us. here we look into the face of the monsignor, for whom she expressed reverence in the morning, and we find that the monsignor and the dead brother whose home he comes to bless, are in reality pippa's own uncles. the poor little girl, with only a nickname, is a child of an older brother and the real heir to the palace, though of this she has never had the remotest dream. we see an insinuating villain tempting the monsignor to allow him to do away with pippa in a most horrible manner, and thus leave the monsignor in sole possession of his brother's property. during an intense moment pippa passes and her singing outside causes her uncle to throttle the villain and call for help. then we see, at the close of the day, the little girl, unconscious of her share in the life of others, come back to her room and fall asleep murmuring her new year's hymn which, in spite of appearances, she still trusts. we are left with the hope that she will awaken next day to realize who she is and come into her own. thus journey we all through life often forgetting that there is nothing small, that "there is no last nor first." we are conscious of noble aims, but oblivious of the real work we are doing and of our own identity. what, do you ask, has such a poetic drama to do with such a commonplace subject as health or the prolonging of life? the question implies a misconception. human development is not a material thing but is poetic and exalted. it has to do not merely with physical conditions but primarily with spiritual ideals. let us observe more closely how browning wakes pippa up. when she comes to consciousness she utters a cry of joy and thanksgiving; "day! faster and more fast, o'er night's brim, day boils at last." the joyous thanksgiving of this first moment is the key to pippa's life and to her influence through the whole day. such was the right beginning to her day and such is the right beginning for us all to every day of our lives. her faith and her hymn revealed the true ideals of this strange journey we call life. there is an old proverb: "guard beginnings." if a stream is poisoned at its head it will carry the deadly taint through its whole course. the most significant moment of life is the moment of awakening. the importance of morning has been more or less realized in the instinct of the human heart in every age. many of the myths of the early greeks refer to the miracle of the morning. aurora mirrors to us in a mystic way the significance of this hour to the greeks. athene was born by the stroke of the hammer of hephæstus on the forehead of zeus, and thus the stroke of fire upon the sky became the symbol or myth of all civilization. even daphne, pursued by apollo, and turned into a tree, is doubtless the darkness fleeing before dawn until the trees stand out clearly defined in the morning light. the dawn of day has always been considered a prophecy of the time when all ignorance will vanish before the light of truth. when we remember that men of the early ages had no other light but that of the sun, we can see how naturally the coming of morning impressed primitive peoples, and it is not much wonder that they adored and worshiped the dawn and the rising sun. we still speak of the dawn of a new civilization. morning is still the most universal figure of progress, the type of a new life. more than all other natural occurrences it is used as a symbol of something higher. may we not, accordingly, discover that from a psychological as well as a physiological point of view, for reasons of health and development, morning is the most significant and important time of the day! no human being at the first moment of awakening is gloomy or angry. everyone awakes in peace with all the world. it is a time of freedom. a moment later memory may bring to the mind some scene or picture that leads to good or bad thought, followed by emotion. this first moment of consciousness is the critical and golden moment of human life. how often has it been said to a child: "you must have gotten out of the wrong side of bed this morning." even animals and birds feel the significance of morning. who has not, at early dawn, heard a robin or some other bird begin to sing--"at first alone," as thomas hardy says, "as if sure that morning has come, while all the others keep still a moment as if equally sure that he is mistaken." soon, however, voice after voice takes up the song until the whole woodland is ringing with joyous tones. who, in such an hour, has not been deeply moved with the spirit and beauty of all life and the harmony and deep significance of all of nature's processes? if we observe the awaking of birds and animals more carefully, however, we find something besides songs. all the higher animals go through certain exercises on first waking. there seems a universal instinct which teaches that certain stretches, expansions and deep breathings are necessary at this time. in fact, these actions are so deeply implanted in the instinct of animals that they seem a kind of sacred acceptance of life, a species of thanksgiving for all that life brings. if we accept "pippa passes" as a parable of human life and pippa as a typical human being, may we not in her awakening find an example of this universal instinct? may we not find her first thoughts and feelings worthy of study and her example one to be followed? do we not, in fact, find here a beautiful illustration of the proper mode of meeting the sacredness of dawn? as a matter of fact, how do we actually greet the morning? do we awake as pippa did, with a joyous song of praise? do we pour out our hearts in gratitude that it brings a new day, a new life? do we give thanks for the new opportunities given us, the new possibilities of enjoyment, the new share in the life of the world? usually we have no thought about these things. most of us entirely forget the significance of the way or "the side we get out of bed." attention is rarely paid to the spirit in which we awaken children. it is often by means of an angry demand or an indulgent whine. they rise with the impression that it is a sin to awaken them and they begin the day with the feeling that the world is cruel. if we could spend the first few moments of every morning as pippa spent her first moments, the character of the whole life would be determined. it is the most important time of every day. is it not also the time when we are most apt to be tempted? has not man seemingly lost the significance of this sacred hour? why do so many, on waking up, begin to worry over the difficulties of the day? how many look back with regret to the preceding day and forward with a frown to the one newly born! why not smile as pippa smiled and meet our blessings with thanksgiving? there are certain physiological reasons why people feel so sluggish on first awaking:--the position in bed is cramped, the limbs are contracted, the circulation is impeded and the breathing is greatly hindered. when lying down, all the functions of the vital organs are lessened. many people are entirely too careless regarding the air of the room. it needs to be even purer and fresher during one's hours of repose than in those of waking. certain simple movements are taken by practically every animal on awaking under normal conditions. among these are yawning, deep breathing, expansion and stretching. these exercises form a part of the process of awaking. it is the change from the position of lying down to that of standing up. but we find that man rarely takes these exercises. between the moment of awakening and standing erect man possibly takes more time, whines more and does less than any other animal. of all the provisions of nature to meet this crucial moment in animal life the stretch seems to be most important. why men neglect the stretch is curious. man seems to lack something of the vigor of the animal instinct on awakening. he lives a more rational life, and it is necessary for him at this time to make certain decisions and exert firmness and resolution. science has carefully explained the stretch, but men seem to refuse to take the lesson. the stretch extends the body so that the veins, where congestion is most liable to take place and where pressure of blood is weakest, are so elongated that the blood flows more easily from the arteries, where the pressure is strongest, through the veins back to the heart and circulation is equalized and stimulated. the beneficial effects of the stretch can be felt by anyone who will take the pains on waking up in the morning to stretch easily, for a few minutes, then rest a few moments and note the effect. he will feel a great exhilaration all through the body. he will feel a sense of harmony. thanksgiving seems to arise from every cell at the fresh blood and life. the yawn is similar to the stretch. the yawn is a stretch of the lungs as the stretch is a yawn of the muscles. both of these exercises express a hunger for oxygen. whenever anyone is sitting in a cramped position or even in one position for a long time, the stretch or yawn is instinctive. the extension of the muscles of the body as illustrated in the stretch is one of the most necessary steps in normal adjustment. to speak of only one point: when a man sits his knees are bent, and the muscles in front of the leg are elongated and the muscles back of the knee are shortened. a stretch means simply the extension of these shortened muscles. all over the body we find a tendency to elongate certain muscles too much. this is true in the chest; true also of the face, at the corners of the mouth. the active use of the too elongated muscles will produce extension in those that are too much shortened. by doing this we bring about certain normal conditions and relations of parts. again we find that the stretch is activity of the extensor muscles. it is the action of the extensor muscles upon which health especially depends. at any rate, the extensor muscles are much more important to bring about the right relation of all parts and the right balance of sensitive muscles and the equalization of circulation than the activity of the flexor muscles. normal emotions, as we shall find later, are expressed through activity of the extensor muscles. abnormal emotions, such as anger, affect the flexor muscles of the body more. since nature has provided the stretch seemingly as the antidote for abnormal position, and especially abnormal position during sleep, in the programme of exercises it would seem most necessary to centre around some careful and scientific use of stretches. have you ever noticed a dog or cat wake up? observe their instinctive movements: the gradual but vigorous stretch in every direction, the deep breathing, the sympathetic extension and staying of the limbs at the climax, then the gradual giving up of the activity and the moment of restful satisfaction. stretching in this way is one of the primitive instincts in all animals. he who will observe the animals will feel that the time for practicing the exercises is on awakening, and the primary exercise to be taken is the stretch. how can we best occupy a part at least of the half hour or more that is usually wasted in worrying and fretting or in sluggish indifference, between the time when we first awake and the time we begin to dress? with all the knowledge of the human organism which has been revealed to us by modern science, with our truer understanding of the nature of men, of the effect of the mind upon the body, with our observation of the instinctive actions of the animals at such an hour, why can we not so occupy a few of these most precious moments of the day as to add to our vitality and enjoyment? at this moment of awakening, when your mind is free, you can so direct your attention as to receive joy instead of gloom, love instead of hate. you can exclude the thought of evil or you can yield and allow the tempter to desecrate your shrine. whichever choice you make, these first moments of your day's living will color the whole course of the coming hours. the feeling first accepted and welcomed will more or less continue and form a background to all your ideas and determine your point of view toward human events. the chief aim of this book is to present a simple programme giving, not only some exercises for this hour, but certain explanations which will inspire a sense of the importance of this hour and these movements. most people have no conception of the possibilities of human nature, of the fact that progress is the highest characteristic of a human being. no matter how old we are, we can always begin to climb upward; the main thing is our willingness to climb. do we understand how to use the least actions and the most neglected movements for the development of character and the satisfactions of life? the principles and exercises advocated in this book are not extravagant. again and again their benefits have been proven and many thereby have doubled life's satisfactions and its length. ii supposed secrets of health and long life before laying down a simple programme which will give one a common sense method of keeping well, living long, and making the very most of life, it may be well to study some of the innumerable theories regarding long life. if all the discussions upon health and long life, from the earliest time to the present, could be adequately chronicled they would form an interesting, if not an amusing history. in many of these, however, we should find the same serious thoughts which we may well consider and find by comparison a few points in which all agree as to what is necessary to health, happiness and length of days. note the theories that have been seriously advocated and which have had vogue among certain classes for a time,--such as the use of cold water every day as a remedy for all diseases. the cold water cure advocated wet sheet packs for fevers, and water, in some form, for all ailments. to live long some physicians have advised sleeping on the right side, others have advocated the use of raw food or food that has been cooked very slightly. some have contended that scientific food is the complete food found in nature, such as nuts; still others have advocated whole wheat bread! in our own time a method has been emphasized which has been called "fletcherizing." this, of course, is taken from the name of the gentleman, who has made it so illustrious by his books and his discussions of the subject. mr. fletcher's principle consists in holding or masticating the food until it is in a fluid form; even a liquid must be held in the mouth until it is of the same temperature as that of the body. many consider that the chief advantage of fletcherizing is that it makes a person eat less. this may be a part of the advantage. i once had the honor of sitting at dinner by the side of mr. fletcher and observed his methods. he did not eat more than one-third of the amount, for example, of ice-cream that the rest ate, but he stopped when the others did, and said, with a smile:--"i have had enough; what i have eaten will give me more nourishment than a larger amount would and it will not give me any trouble." there is great truth in some of these theories. we should eat less meat and more grain. we should not bolt the best food elements out of wheat; we should not bleach rice and take out its nutritious element. certainly, our lives are very unscientific. most men live merely by accident. the shortness of life is not surprising to one who understands how irrationally most of us live. others say, breathe deeply, naturally and constantly. still others have urged active life out of doors or an active participation in business. it is a well-known fact that many men have not lived long after retiring from their occupations. andrew carnegie said recently that he attributed his long life, health and strength to his activity. the story is told that he walked the floor of his room with deep anxiety and consternation the night after his offer was accepted to sell the carnegie steel works. he had not thought it possible that his price would be accepted, and he kept speaking to his old friend about the amount of money paid and the greatness of the responsibility. fortunately he did not retire, as most men do, but took an interest in every phase of modern life. he has used his money, as a sacred trust, according to his own best judgment, building libraries and giving organs, pensioning teachers who have given their lives for truth rather than for making money, and has furthered many other causes. one of the most common opinions is that long life depends upon "our constitution,"--upon what we receive from our ancestors. that is, long life is a gift, not an attainment. and we are in the habit of blaming our ancestors, near and remote, for our lack of strength and vitality. dr. oliver wendell holmes once made the remark that if one wished to live a long life he should be afflicted with some incurable disease. this was thought to be merely a joke, but it has foundation in fact. many men with poor constitutions live to a very advanced age. they study themselves and live simply. they realize that they are not strong and they do not indulge themselves, but reach out for health and strength in all ways. among all the practices which men have adopted through different ages for prolonging life we find many which are universally believed, though possibly not practiced. some discussion of these may give us courage and enable us to realize how unscientifically, how carelessly, most men live, and how indifferent we really are to our well-being. and yet we find wide-spread doubt as to the advisability of being too fastidious. some of the extravagant ideas have naturally given rise to such scepticism. on hardly any subject have men had such extreme views as they have regarding health or the prolongation of their own lives. i know one lady who ate a raw carrot every morning because it was yellow, and, as yellow is a spiritual color, this practice, it was advocated, would free one from materiality and, consequently, from all disease. i have known others who condemned all attention to proper food, exercise, and even to expression, because such attention would lead to faith in material means. webster said, "truth is always congruous, and agrees with itself; every truth in the universe agrees with every other truth in the universe; whereas falsehoods not only disagree with truth but usually quarrel among themselves." in accordance with this principle as a rule the untruthfulness of any view is seen in its failure to recognize anything else as true. no one will advocate any extreme and irrational habit. too much attention to food, too much attention to the care of the body and exercise will degrade even character. the morning exercises which are here recommended should be taken even as one washes his hands, as a matter of course. man is spiritual, and character is developed spiritually, and mere attention to the body does not secure health and strength. there is a great and easily demonstrated truth in the fact that people who believe in a spiritual life have endured untold hardships and have faced all kinds of conditions without injury. the power of mind over body, of spirit over matter, is too well attested to be doubted. however, man is slow and progress must be made gradually. the first step must be taken before the last can be taken. extravagant and wrong views prevent a great many people from doing anything. if we examine all the rules for securing health and the leading secrets of long life, we find that one of the earliest is temperance. a noted instance is socrates. during the great plague, when at least one-third of the population of athens died, socrates went about with impunity. this was no doubt due to the cheerfulness and temperance of his life. we know of his cheerfulness from accounts by zenophon and plato. possibly the most illustrious example, which has been recounted of the preservation of health and the prolonging of life through temperance, is luigi cornaro, who was born in venice in 1464. after having, according to gamba, wasted his youth, his health was so broken and his habits so fixed that "upon passing the age of thirty-five he had nothing left to hope for but that he might end in death the suffering of a worn-out life." this man, by resolution and temperance, battled with his perverted habits and became strong and vigorous and happy, and lived to be over one hundred years of age. "the good old man," said graziani, "feeling that he drew near the end, did not look upon the great transit with fear, but as though he were about to pass from one house into another. he was seated in his little bed--he used a small and very narrow one--and, at its side, was his wife, veronica, almost his equal in years. in a clear and sonorous voice he told me why he would be able to leave this life with a valiant soul.... feeling a little later the failure of vital force, he exclaimed, 'glad and full of hope will i go with you, my good god!' he then composed himself; and having closed his eyes, as though about to sleep, with a slight sigh, he left us forever." a new edition of cornaro's discourses on the temperate life, by william f. butler of milwaukee, has recently been issued under the title of "the art of living long." the first of these discourses was written at the age of eighty-three, the second at eighty-six, the third at ninety-one, and the fourth at ninety-five. his treatises have been popular for all these centuries. he held that the older a man grows the wiser he becomes and the more he knows; and if he will, by temperance and regularity of life and exercise, preserve his strength, his powers of enjoyment will grow, as his own did, every year until the end. "men are, as a rule," says cornaro, "very sensual and intemperate, and wish to gratify their appetites and give themselves up to the commission of innumerable disorders. when, seeing that they cannot escape suffering the unavoidable consequences of such intemperance as often as they are guilty of it, they say--by way of excuse--that it is preferable to live ten years less and to enjoy life. they do not pause to consider what immense importance ten years more of life, and especially of healthy life, possess when we have reached mature age, the time, indeed, at which men appear to the best advantage in learning and virtue--two things which can never reach their perfection except with time. to mention nothing else at present, i shall only say that, in literature and in the sciences, the majority of the best and most celebrated works we possess were written when their authors had attained ripe age, and during these same ten latter years for which some men, in order that they may gratify their appetites, say they do not care." we see not only in this passage but in many other places evidence of the fact that cornaro lived a cheerful, contented life. the reform was evidently not merely in his eating and drinking but fully as much in the inner thought of his life. this is shown in many passages from his discourses. he says: "although reason should convince them that this is the case, yet these men refuse to admit it, and pursue their usual life of disorder as heretofore. were they to act differently, abandoning their irregular habits and adopting orderly and temperate ones, they would live to old age--as i have--in good condition. being, by the grace of god, of so robust and perfect a constitution, they would live until they reached the age of a hundred and twenty, as history points out to us that others--born, of course, with perfect constitutions--have done, who led the temperate life. "i am certain i, too, should live to that age had it been my good fortune to receive a similar blessing at my birth; but, because i was born with a poor constitution, i fear i shall not live much beyond a hundred years." according to the census of the united states not one man in twenty thousand attains the age of one hundred years. if we figure out carefully from these statistics, we find the average is only about one-third of this period of life. one of the social customs is that we must eat an extraordinary meal,--far more than we need, as if life's enjoyment depended on the low sense of taste,--as if every contract or matter of important business must have this as an introduction. theoretically speaking, many people believe in low living and high thinking, but it is very rare that we find one who practices it. the two simple rules of cornaro deserve our attention: to eat only what he wanted, that is, what he actually needed for the sustenance of his body, and to eat only those things which really agreed with him, that is, those which were really helpful to the sustenance of his life. if we should consider eating merely as a means and not an end, cornaro's idea that the normal age of a human being was one hundred and twenty years would not be such a wild dream. another almost universally recognized requisite is exercise in the open air, or regular, systematic, simple and vigorous activity of some kind. the necessity of thoroughly pure air must be emphasized from first to last. some think that the dullness felt by many people in the early morning is due to the impure air of cities, and to the failure to open windows. a lady once said to me, "when i am in the country i always sleep out of doors. then i have not the slightest disinclination to get up. i do it as naturally and as gladly as the animals." it is to be hoped that the rapid transit and the automobile will enable people to live farther out in the country, farther from air poisoned by smoke and gases. even in cities, however, one may have open windows and greater circulation of air than is common. some have gone so far as to place exercise over against temperance in eating, saying that if you take enough exercise you may eat and drink what you please. while there is some truth in this there is really no antagonism between them; in fact, they are usually found together. another view almost universally advocated, is to avoid drugs. the importance of this and its union with right exercise have been demonstrated in the impressive language of fable. "there is a story in the 'arabian nights' tales'," says addison, "of a king who had long languished under an ill habit of body, and had taken abundance of remedies to no purpose. at length, says the fable, a physician cured him by the following method: he took a hollow ball of wood, and filled it with several drugs; after which he closed it up so carefully that nothing appeared. he likewise took a mallet, and, after having hollowed the handle and that part which strikes the ball, he inclosed in them several drugs after the same manner as in the ball itself. he then ordered the sultan, who was his patient, to exercise himself early in the morning with these rightly prepared instruments, till such time as he should sweat; when, as the story goes, the virtue of the medicaments perspiring through the wood, had so good an influence on the sultan's constitution, that they cured him of an indisposition which all the compositions he had taken inwardly had not been able to remove. "this eastern allegory is finely contrived to show us how beneficial bodily labor is to health, and that exercise is the most effectual physic." another illustration is furnished us by sir william temple:-"i know not," he says, "whether some desperate degrees of abstinence would not have the same effect upon other men, as they had upon atticus; who, weary of his life as well as his physicians by long and cruel pains of a dropsical gout, and despairing of any cure, resolved by degrees to starve himself to death; and went so far, that the physicians found he had ended his disease instead of his life." of all the methods advocated, possibly one of the most universally recognized is joyousness,--a hopeful attitude toward life, a cheerful, kindly relationship with one's kind. according to galen, æsculapius wrote comic songs to promote circulation in his patients. "a physician," says hippocrates, "should have a certain ready wit, for sadness hinders both the well and the sick." we know, too, that apollo was not only the god of music and poetry but also of medicine. the poet, john armstrong, has explained this: "music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels disease, softens every pain; and hence the wise of ancient days adored one power of physic, melody and song." sir charles clark, one of the greatest physicians of modern times, exercised a most exhilarating influence over his patients by his cheerfulness and jollity. it was probably one of the chief means of his wonderful success. "cheerfulness," says sir john byles, "is eminently conducive to health both in body and mind." a recent writer says of professor charles eliot norton that he was "not of a rugged constitution, yet he did an enormous amount of work and lived to a beautiful old age." this is attributed to the fact that he was never "blue." the cheerful kindliness of his face, his genial smile and kind words were sources of great inspiration to me when a teacher at harvard, and to all who met him. the more we investigate the theories of long life the more do we become impressed with a universal longing for a length of days. we find a deep, underlying instinct "that men do not live out half their days." everywhere, too, we find a certain expectation of "finding the fountain of youth," a hope in some way to conquer sickness and death. this desire is normal and natural. it may, sometime in future history, be realized. as we examine these theories we find, however wild they may seem at first, certain common sense views at the heart of all of them. no one need make a hobby of any one of them. temperance, regularity, repose, patience, and above all, cheerfulness, do not exclude each other, they rather imply one another. in many instances one can hardly be practiced without some of the others. the practice of one would unconsciously bring up the others. if we study carefully these theories, and especially if we study the lives of those who have not only professed theories but have faithfully practiced their principles and attained great health and age, we always find a combination of various methods. there is no doubt, for example, that cornaro completely reformed his life. the character of socrates was the secret of his good health. temperance to the greek did not mean total abstinence. it meant lack of extravagance; it meant what we mean by patience, by an unruffled temper,--it meant the right use of all the faculties and powers. what new hobby, you may ask, is the theme of this book? nothing that will interfere with the fundamental elements of the best ideas of all ages. first of all it is advocated that we go down deeper into all theories. temperance should not be applied merely to food and drink but must cover self-control, repose of life, purity and depth of thought, and a harmonious development of human nature. the book tries to draw attention to many important things which are usually overlooked or not considered necessary to health and life. the study of expression, to choose only one example, reveals to us, the necessity of a right poise of the body. one of the leading teachers of science in this country, after fighting tuberculosis for three years, changing climates and using all the help that science has provided, determined at last to go back to his work and to do his best even though he lost his life. making a constant and careful study of himself he again began his life as a teacher. he met with one with great knowledge of the human body, one who had studied it from many points of view. he was surprised when that expert said to him:--"your dieting will not do you much good, that is not your trouble. you do not sit right nor stand right, your chest is too low, it not only cramps your breathing but what is still more important, it cramps your stomach and all the other vital organs." the scientist eagerly asked what he could do to recover his strength, and he received a few valuable suggestions, which he followed, and in six months he was stronger than ever. as a student and teacher of human expression for nearly forty years, i have found most important connections between man's mind, body and voice. the right use of the voice is next to impossible unless a man stands properly. there are certain inter-relations between the simple conditions and actions of the body, and the conditions and the true use of the voice are determined by the way a man thinks and feels. a man must not only have right feeling but must express it. he cannot get right expression without right thinking. health, itself, is one of man's mental and emotional conditions. this book is an endeavor to study human unfoldment from an all-sided observation of the whole nature of man. man is a unity, and an endeavor to establish health from a mere material point of view has always failed. expression is a study from a higher point of view. the organism is studied from the point of view of its mental function. expression implies the subordination of the body to the actions of the mind. this gives a truer point of view for an all-sided human development. it also implies a study of the especial significance and use of certain primary acts of our lives:--such as the way we wake up in the morning and certain movements which are taken at that time by animals and normal beings. the stretches, yawnings and breathings, peculiar to that moment, are never lost by animals, but human beings, with their higher possibilities but greater power of perversion, lose the significance and helpfulness of this primarily instinctive movement. the study of expression also reveals to us that certain emotions are normal or positive and develop health and strength, while certain other emotions are negative and destructive of vitality as well as of manhood. we also find that the emotions we choose to express become our own and, therefore, we should choose normal conditions of mind and emotions, and express these consciously and deliberately, especially at the most negative time in the morning, when we first wake up. expression is one of the necessary elements of human development. we control emotions and control their expression. we welcome noble thoughts or noble feelings, and that which we welcome we become. this book shows the smile, laughter, the taking of breath and the simple stretch as most important exercises which are to be regularly taken. it also implies a deeper study into human co-ordinations; it tries to show a universal necessity of rhythm and is an endeavor to establish the higher principles of training in a way that makes them applicable to the most simple of human actions. the student is requested to study himself, to make a demonstration of every claim and of more than is claimed. the exercises are so simple that anyone can try and prove them, only let the trial be one continued long enough to be a real test. the moment you awake center attention upon a pleasant thought or take an attitude of joy, thanksgiving and love for all the world. have courage and confidence that all evils will vanish; express some normal feelings at once by the expansion of the chest, a deep full breath, an inward laugh or chuckle and an increased harmonious stretch of the whole body. everyone will be tempted to say that he cannot control his thoughts. he may say he does not wish to be a hypocrite and try to excuse himself for brooding over gloomy thoughts or the fear that he will not get through the day. such lack of courage, lack of faith, lack of thanks for the beauties of life are sins which cannot be too strongly condemned. we can and must at once put ourselves in a positive attitude of mind. we must begin our day with a song, with a smile. we must look upward, not downward. we must reject every discordant thought and accept accordant ones regarding the coming day. it is a new day which brings new life, new joys, new duties, it may be new trials, but these, instead of being accepted as obstacles, may be turned into opportunities. the indulgence of negative thoughts in the morning may become a habit. a great battle may have to be fought at first, but perseverance and promptness can correct such evil tendencies. it is at this time that the demon of regret and of disappointment is apt to lay hold of us; the blackest thought in our lives likely to meet us. observe that this was so of pippa. though she awoke with joy, and is held up as an ideal, as she goes on thinking the darkest shadow of her life comes to her. "if i only knew what was my mother's face--my father, too!" this thought, however, she puts out of her mind by resolution, by turning, as we always should turn at such an hour, to the source. "nay, if you come to that, best love of all is god's; then why not have god's love befall myself as, in the palace by the dome, monsignor?--who to-night will bless the home of his dead brother." here must begin the heroic endeavor to live. effort will be required for a time till the habit is formed. instantly control the attention and express it by action. give a positive welcome to the day and the light; express positive thanksgiving for the thought that you have strength and that you have the joy of work to do. it is in the morning that we should begin to live a new life, a simple life; it is then that we should eliminate all whines and abnormal desires and open our hearts to receive the strength of a new day. life, growth and development respond to joy. every flower seems to smile to meet the sun, and the little bird sings in the midst of its duties. some scientists are hoping to discover the germ of old age, and by destroying this to prolong life. the real germ, however, of old age is found in the doubt and worry which we allow to enter the holy of holies of the heart at the holiest hour of the day. if we guard the sacred shrine of thought and consciousness from impure, unkind and discouraging ideas at the moment of awaking it may be truly said that the enjoyments of life as well as its length will be doubled. the primary acts that express this joy are: first, expansion; second, taking a deep breath; third, stretching of the body; fourth, a smile or inward laugh. sometimes these take place so rapidly as to seem to be simultaneous, but close examination will reveal a sequence, though rapid. as in life we have to live a truth to know or understand it, so an act of expression embodies the emotion. true enjoyment is also always expansive. anger and negative emotions cause constrictions, while joy and love increase expansion. "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." it is the mind that makes the man. when we reject a negative thought and accept a positive one we begin the real battle of life. negative emotion, every moment it is expressed becomes stronger, and gradually takes complete possession of us. prof. james says that everyone should do something disagreeable every day, but there is great danger in accepting anything as disagreeable. we must not only do something disagreeable, but we must accept and do it as if it were an agreeable thing. this is most important. the attitude toward life makes all the difference. another great teacher has said, "when a wrong thought comes in, say, out of my house, you don't belong here!" remember that the field of consciousness is a sacred shrine. from it banish everything that is not full of joy and praise and comfort, that does not give you strength and courage. do as pippa did. do not let the devil take possession, as he is always ready to do at this time. this battle must be fought at once. there must be no delay. idea will link itself to idea by the law of association of ideas, and we shall soon form a habit of negative thoughts in the morning. the great point to note is that we should live rational lives, that we should give our attention and apply our own scientific knowledge and reason to the every-day duties of life, and not disregard the duty we owe to ourselves. men are continually doing something which they know to be wrong. they indulge in thoughts which they know will poison their minds and characters. they eat food which they know is not good for them. they pour into their stomachs stimulants which they know will dull their higher faculties and powers. some tell us that life is a continuous battle. it may be looked at in that way, but if we look at it from a more rational point of view it is a continual reaching up for higher enjoyment. every day and every hour we must be on our guard; our theories must be a rule of life to be really obeyed and lived. therefore, to apply our own knowledge to the restoration or maintenance of life demands that we avoid that which is injurious, and that we joyously, gladly accept that which is helpful. life is a sacred gift, a privilege, and an opportunity to be enjoyed, it is to be lifted up, and filled with high experiences. to accomplish all these ends, we should study those moments when we are in greatest danger,--those moments which are most important and when we are best able to control our attention and to command our feelings. the one supreme hour is the hour of awakening. if we can occupy a few minutes of this time in right thoughts, and right movements scientifically directed and as simple as those of the animals, the effect will be astonishing. to come down to a few specific things that everyone should practice in order to be stronger, to be more efficient, to enjoy more and to live longer, let us summarize a few general points. (1) express joy first with laughter. if you cannot laugh aloud, laugh with an inner chuckle. it is not enough to have joy, it must be actively expressed to have an effect upon the organism. (2) maintaining the joy and laughter, express, therefore, all harmonious extensions of the body, that is, all simple stretches. maintaining the laughter and the extension of the body, expand the chest and torso as much as possible. (3) on waking up, take a thought of joy, of courage, of love toward all mankind, toward the day and its work. (4) maintaining all previous conditions, take a full, deep breath. (5) set free with the simplest movements every part of the body. (6) co-ordinate the parts of the body concerned in every-day work, and sustain them with primary and normal activities. (7) bring all the parts of the body into normal rhythm by alternative activity of the parts and in other ways. to have good health we must rejoice, laugh, extend, expand, breathe, co-ordinate the primary parts of the body, act rhythmically, set free all the parts of the body and all the primary activities of function. in short, this book tries to move everyone to study the simplest things, the simplest actions, the most normal duties of a human being, and to assert these and to exercise them the very first thing in the morning. iii what is an exercise? on account of the many misconceptions of the nature of human development, will it not be well, before beginning our program to consider seriously--what is training? what are some of its principles? what can we do with ourselves by obeying nature's laws? or, if these questions are too serious, too difficult for a short answer, should we not, at least, try to realize what is an exercise? to many persons, any kind of movement, any jerk or chaotic action, is an exercise. they think that the more effort put forth, the better. thus some teachers of voice contend that, to be an exercise, there must be muscular effort in producing tone. on the contrary, many movements are injurious; unnecessary effort will defeat some of the most important exercises. the exercise must obey the laws of nature. it must fulfill nature's intentions, stimulate nature's processes, awaken normal, though slumbering activity. an exercise is of fundamental importance to all human beings. man comes into the world the feeblest of all animals. he has the least power to do anything for himself, but he comes with possibilities of higher love and union with his fellow-men. he comes into the world with a greater possibility of unfolding than any other created being. accordingly an exercise is a means of progress, a simple action which a man must use for his own unfoldment. an exercise is a conscious step toward an ideal. man is given the prophetic power to realize his own possibilities. we can hardly imagine an exercise independent of the conscious sense of the highest and best attainments, of thereby making ourselves stronger and in some way better. this ideal is instinctive, even on the part of animals, in fact, the animal instinctively regards its own preservation, its own unfoldment and the reaching of its ideal type. a tree will cover up its wound and reach out its branches freely, spontaneously in the direction of the light and toward the attainment of its own type. with man the ideal is a matter of higher realization. we have the lower instincts in common with the animals but we have also something higher. there is inborn in us a conception that man transcends all present conditions. an exercise is a step towards the attainment of a chosen end. accordingly we have high exercises and low exercises; exercises on a mental and on a physical plane; exercises that may train men down to an abnormal type; exercises also that are intellectual, imaginative and spiritual. everywhere in nature there is a low and a high. in animals of a high order of unfoldment there is specific functioning of every part but in those of a low order the functions are confused. the organs are not so well differentiated. even in human beings, in the process of degeneracy a man loses a greater variety of his powers, and his very voice and body lose some of those characteristics which belong to the ideal member of the race. a true exercise always brings sound and specific parts into action. part is differentiated from part. all parts are made more flexible and more capable of discharging a function distinct from all other parts of the body. a true action of the hand cannot be performed by the foot nor can a foot become a hand except by a process of degeneracy. an exercise implies a struggle upward over against a drift downwards. an exercise is an aspiration. an exercise is a demonstration, it reveals a man's best to himself. it is a process of translating his dreams into reality. it is the only proof of himself, his intuitive language. an exercise is not physical but mental. never regard your exercises as merely physical. the expression "physical training" is a misnomer. all training is the action of mind. it may manifest itself in a physical direction, but training itself,--the putting forth,--is mental. it is the emotion we feel more than the movement that accomplishes results. no matter who laughs, consider your morning exercises sacred to you. make them a part of your very life and habits, and put into them your thought and the attitude of your mind toward your fellow-beings. you will be tempted to regard such movements as merely mechanical and artificial. you will be tempted to think they are just the ideas of some crank. put all this aside. begin your exercises joyously and happily, for the very pleasure of the action. remember that you are not a body in which you have a soul; you are a soul and have a body. the cause of everything, even of health, is in our minds. our awakening is not a physical matter. there is no power in the material body to move a finger. an exercise is bringing a mental action into manifestation. however physical an action may appear, its only significance is as an act of mind. an exercise is an expression. it is an act of being, not of body; it is activity of being in action of body. there is no such thing as physical expression. expression is not merely a reflex action. it is the emanation of activity. it is the union of thinking, feeling and willing. an exercise implies that we can choose what we are to express. it implies also that we can consciously regulate, guide or accentuate our mental, imaginative and emotional activities. here we find the importance also of expression as an educational view. repression and suppression may be injurious to health. expression is necessary even for the proper functioning of the vital organs. impression implies the conscious use of an impulse. it implies the ability to share our ideas, feelings or experiences with others. an exercise is a means of turning an impulse in a higher direction. it implies also the curbing of abnormal impulses. exercise implies stimulation of normal functioning. it is an endeavor, but one in accordance with principle. thus, an exercise is an expression of an aspiration. exercise implies many things. it implies that a man may be low down but that he can rise; it implies that if he begin early and work patiently enough he can control, soon or late, his nature. he can control the expression of his being and every manifestation of life if he will only come close enough to the fountain-head of thinking and feeling. he must be willing to demonstrate on an humble plane, and, while striving for the highest ideal, take the simplest exercise as the first step of the ladder. an exercise localizes function. every part of the body, even every muscle has certain functions to discharge. awkward men use the wrong part to perform a certain action; part interferes with part. a true exercise will train each part to discharge its own function and bring it into harmonious co-ordination with other parts. it will stimulate both growth and development but make growth precede development. while aspiration is universal it becomes conscious in a human being. we have definite ideals and not only instincts for their attainment, but we can adopt rational methods for their realization. we have not only an instinctive consciousness of what is normal but a deep intuition that we can improve every power of our being, every agent of our body and every tone of the voice. a simple, a most commonplace action, when done with aspiration becomes an exercise. in fact, everything that man does is part of the training. a true list of exercises must reflect the spirit of all life. a normal man can distinguish between a wrong and a right exercise, between that which will lift him upward and that which will cause degeneracy. when men give up to their lower appetites they strengthen the downward impulses, but the mind can be awakened and every little step will become a demonstration of higher possibilities. an exercise is a demonstration to a man of his possibilities. sometime the science of sciences will be that of training and education. all over the organic world we find tendencies toward degeneracy or downward; and we find everywhere aspirations or activities upward. every bird, every rose, every blade of grass is trying to reach an ideal. this universal upward tendency or process we call by some big words which confuse our minds and obscure the facts. an exercise is not only mental but emotional, not only expressive of thought but of normal emotion. the wise doctor looks at his patient. he does this not only to recognize the patient's condition but to see how much courage he has, how much joy, how gladly he accepts life. an exercise demands accentuation of extension. muscles should have a certain normal length and the power of relaxation to take a certain length. on account of abnormal positions, such as obtain during sleep, certain muscles become unduly elongated and others too short. to restore the balance of proper proportions those shortened need extension and the elongated need shortening. accordingly the so-called extensor muscles of the body need frequent action. the effect of these stretches is to harmonize the vital forces. when a man lies upon his bed, as has been said, he breathes less, the circulation is more or less impeded; hence, the dull feeling and unwillingness to rise. the stretch also equalizes the circulation. it affects the veins where the pressure of blood is weakest, where there is a more immediate indication of congestion, so that the bad blood flows away, and the good blood from the arteries where the pressure of blood is strong, flows in, and the processes of life go on with more decision. there is still another explanation why the stretch is so important. it is primarily activity of the extensor muscles and is vitally connected with all true expansion. the flexor muscles on account of the position in sitting and because of a lack of expansive activity, often become too short. they can be extended only by activity of the extensor muscles. the stretch is the special and instinctive action of the extensor muscles in response to a distinctive demand for freedom of the organs, or harmony of the whole myological mechanism. it is also, as has been said, closely connected with the circulation, and the activity of the vital organs. there is no more important exercise than stretching. its neglect is one of the strange things in training. one who wishes to be stronger, to have the normal possession of all his faculties, powers and organs, can be initiated and secure the result most rapidly, by the use of this simple and elemental exercise. an exercise is an act of expansion. the action of man's body consists of expansion, contraction and modulation, the latter being the union of the other two. true energy expresses itself primarily by expansion. life expands and any increase of new life and all positive emotions cause an increase of expansive activity in the body. the study of expansion reveals to us the fact that expansion and contraction furnish the many elements of all human action, but that expansion is first, that expansion expresses joy, exhilaration, animation in life, and that contraction, aside from its co-ordination with expansion in causing control in intensity, expresses antagonism, hate, anger, pain. accordingly this book assigns certain fundamental expansions, which everyone should practice and does practice if he obey his own deep instincts. negative emotions, such as fear, despondency, or antagonism, cause contraction and tend to constrict the vital organs. it can, of course, be seen at once that expansion is due to the activity of the extensor muscles. the stretch is, in the main, an expansion. at any rate, it is always associated, co-ordinated, when properly performed, with expansion. moreover, if we observe the action of animals and all true spontaneous actions in a human being, we observe that the activity of expansion begins in the centre of the body. it is at this point that we should initiate our expression. the actions in the middle of the body are more conditional than those in the feet, hands, or limbs, but the awakening of conditions should precede modulation. a certain activity of expansion and diffusion is the very basis of all conditions. all exercises should naturally begin with expansion. a true exercise means an increase of activity. moreover, not only does life expand, but all positive emotions, such as joy, love, courage, cause activity of the extensor muscles. these emotions, as is universally known, improve health. if we observe the structure of the torso, we find that the chest has no prop from below; that the ribs are placed at an angle with the spine, sloping downwards as low as forty-five degrees, while at times they may be lifted seventy-five or eighty degrees or more. the expansion of the chest lifts the ribs. if we study a skeleton, we see that it must be suspended, that it cannot be propped up. man, accordingly, stands and walks primarily on account of the active expansion of his whole chest. he is the one animal that has levitation, as will be shown later. we find that under the ribs in the torso are all the vital organs. the lungs, the heart, the stomach, all these depend for their normal position, their normal action upon the expansion of the chest. when a man stands, the tendency for the chest is to sag. there are no bones to elevate it. man has levitation as well as gravitation, and the expansion and elevation of the chest lie at the basis of all good position in standing, sitting and also walking. there are certain co-ordinate curves, beautiful, spiral, rhythmic, in a normal and healthy human being. these curves depend upon this expansion of the chest. all the best gymnastic exercises centre in the development of activity in the muscles concerned in keeping the chest elevated and harmoniously expanded. when we study the expression of this part, we find that it reveals energy and courage and all the noble, positive emotions of a human being. a passive chest expresses indifference, inactivity, fear, discouragement, a sense of weakness, unwillingness to awake and rise up to meet emergencies. a sunken chest, accordingly, is an indication of a tendency to disease, simply because it expresses a negative mental state or one favorable to the reception of abnormal conditions. the expansion of the chest, on the contrary, reveals that happy acceptance of life, that active, energetic determination to control abnormal conditions which will ward off all disease and eliminate all failure. this expansion of the chest, as we can see, is one of the most elemental actions of expansion of the human being. we shall observe later that this activity is directly concerned with erect posture. all actions in a normal condition co-operate or co-ordinate. this expansion frees the respiratory muscles and all the vital organs, gives man command of the elemental action of his body as a whole; that is, his erectness expresses higher emotions and experiences. an exercise implies co-ordination. an organism exists only by virtue of certain co-ordination of parts. training improves and extends this co-ordination. co-ordination is the simultaneous union of many different elements or actions in different parts of the body. an exercise is rhythmic. when exercises are performed in obedience to the law of rhythm, better results will follow. rhythm is a law of man's being. action and reaction imply a human being doing his little part and then accepting the greater work out of the heart of the universe. action and reaction, activity and passivity, the giving and the receiving, everything natural is rhythmic. absence of rhythm is death. an exercise is simple. the best exercise is the simplest in its movements. it is not the spectacular actions of an exercise that make it the best. as every exercise is a struggle upward it must necessarily be an emphasis of something elemental and normal. any movement is normal when it is part of the discharge of an elemental or distinctive action of any agent or part. the difference between accidental and elemental needs more discussion. working upon accidentals secures weak results, perverts and interferes with free function. working upon elementals brings freedom, power. iv program of exercises as all training is a reaching upward towards an ideal so an exercise is a single step and the first exercise should be the most primary action. the primary condition of all growth is a certain joyous awakening, an expansive enjoyment of life. take a joyous thought and express it in active laughter. no matter how dull or weary you feel when you first awake, joyously accept the new day. use the following exercises and actions as you would a cold wet towel on your face or hands. look on the sunny side at once and laugh. we can possess a feeling only by expressing it; we enter into possession of the day only by using it. it is easy to look at the light, easy to breathe, easy to stretch, to expand, easy to remember something joyous, easy to smile and easy to laugh. if your body feels weak and sluggish, and you have great indifference to movement there is all the more reason for promptness. if you will joyously extend your arms, expand, breathe deeply and laugh, you welcome life and joy and give them a chance to take possession of your being and body and you will soon feel courageous instead of gloomy, strong instead of weak, rested instead of weary. none of these exercises require a great expenditure of vitality. performed, as many of them are, lying down, however energetically you may do them they will bring little or no weariness. though the exercises do not require much vitality they should be practiced vigorously to accomplish the best results. 1. primary expansion and extension on waking, take a courageous, joyous attitude of mind. chuckling deeply, actively expand the whole body, take a deep breath and co-ordinate harmoniously as many parts as can be brought into sympathetic activity. stretch the arms upward and the feet downward as far as possible, and repeat at least twenty times. an old writer gave dilatation as one of the primary characteristics of life. a certain distention of all parts of the body is the beginning of the renewal of energy and a primary manifestation of life. we must give room to the life forces, feel the diffusion of energy into every part. the sense of constriction, due to lying in a cramped position, can be easily removed by this primary exercise. the chief elements in this primary distention of the body are found in the stretch and expansion of the torso, in deeper, fuller breathing, in the sense of diffusion of life, in greater satisfaction and in laughter. these elements should be practiced on waking up. the stretch should be in the nature of an indulgence, an instinctive longing on first awaking, a longing in common with all animals. it ought to be enjoyable and a help to sustain the laughter. count one for the active movement, or stretch, two for the staying of the active conditions, three for the gradual release of activity, and four for complete relaxation. the exercise, as most of the others, should be repeated twenty to twenty-five times, counting four for each of the preceding movements. this will require eighty to one hundred counts. each of the four actions of the muscles should be carefully distinguished and accentuated. counting four in this way for an exercise and for each of the first steps obeys the law of rhythm, accentuates all the elemental actions of the muscles and establishes primary conditions of healthful activity in all the vital organs. the simultaneous elements or actions in this first exercise are of such importance that it is well to practice each one separately, either before or after the general exercise. this distinct practice prevents the slighting of any of these elemental conditions, restores harmony and stimulates normal functioning of all organs. in fact, all these actions are really necessary conditions and should be present as elements of all exercises. the following exercises (2-5) are important, individual accentuations of the essential actions of this general exercise, and the conditions of all exercises. the student should carefully study his tendencies to omit or slight any one of these elements and accentuate carefully not only every step separately, but observe with especial care the one most needed. 2. initiatory exhilaration sustaining the extension and full breath, laugh heartily, with little or no noise, chuckle to yourself persistently for several minutes. centre the laughter in the breathing and the torso. joy and laughter must be considered the first condition of all exercise. the reasons have been explained. if you are still sceptical, observe and experiment. everything that is truly scientific can be proved or in some way demonstrated. as this is one of the basic principles of this book and its companion volume, "the smile," and as joy and laughter are met as the first exercise of our program, it may be well to summarize some of the arguments: exercise in laughter sets free the vital organs and brings all parts into harmonious, normal activity, stimulates the circulation, quickens the metabolism of the cells and causes elimination. each of these topics might receive many pages of discussion. you will be tempted to omit the practice of the chuckle, but it should be especially emphasized. it expresses and accentuates the permanent possession of the joyous thought. no other exercise can so stimulate a right attitude toward life, as well as restore the normal condition of the vital organs. it has also, as have all of these exercises, a beneficial effect upon the voice. in fact, all good exercises tend to improve the voice. this is one of the most important tests of an exercise,--does it affect easily, naturally and normally the vocal organs? 3. harmonic expansion sustaining laughter and extension, sympathetically and joyously elevate and expand the chest as far as possible. feel the breast bone separate farther from the spine, easily and naturally as in the expression of joyous courage. expand slowly, sustain the expansion, gradually release, then rest, that is to say, perform the exercise in the same quadruple rhythm of the harmonic extension. in this exercise you should feel a deepening of the chest chamber. it is well at first, until you get the exercises correctly, to place one hand at the back, the other on the chest, and in expanding to feel the two hands separate. this expansion should be sustained for several seconds. the release should follow gradually. there should be a repetition of the expansion; you should feel a sympathetic activity all through the chest and torso. sudden collapses should at all times be avoided, and they should especially be avoided in exercises of the chest and of the central organs. the free, expansive facility of the whole chest is the measure of the health, strength, grace and normal actions of a human being. it is of primary importance. 4. respiratory accentuation keeping the body extended, the chest well expanded, take a deep, full breath, hold it a moment and gradually release it, then wait a second without greatly lessening the expansion of the chest in this exercise be sure to accentuate the four elemental parts of an exercise. taking breath, the active stay of the breath, the gradual release and then the complete surrender of the direct respiratory muscles: that is, accentuate the four steps or elements as in most exercises and avoid the temptation to jerk and to exaggerate minor parts or actions. constrictions, inharmonious and unrhythmic jerks are always out of place in any exercise. the best results can be obtained only by observance of principles. do not force the breath out. allow it to pass out easily and normally. increase the inspiration rather than the expiration. the air will tend to pass out too quickly, reserve it and allow it to pass out steadily and regularly. we find that the taking of breath is associated with the result of expansion and vitally connected with the conception of impressions and expression, and so is a necessary part. the expanding of the chest causes greater room in the thoracic chamber and breath flows in naturally. this exercise, however, implies that we should consciously and deliberately accentuate expansion and the taking of breath. it aids in the realization of life and the diffusion of activity. man breathes over twenty-five thousand times in twenty-four hours. he can get along very well on two or three meals of food and six or eight glasses of water, but with as low as fourteen thousand breaths a day, he is flat on his back and has hardly enough power to move hand or foot. we live on air. this is one reason why the expansion of the chest is so important. it gives room for breath. in fact, in breathing we do not suck breath into the lungs. air presses fifteen pounds to the square inch to get into the lungs. expansion is, therefore, the primary element in breathing. we should, however, at times not only expand fully but consciously draw in breath. we can expand the chest while sustaining it and drink breath into the very depths of our lungs. thus the exercise requires us to take as much breath as possible, to retain it a moment, then slowly give it up and at last to relax completely the diaphragm, all the time sustaining the chest expansion. preserve still the quadruple rhythm. of course the exercise can be done with dual rhythm, and it will be helpful, but the accentuation of all four of the primary actions will accomplish more than double the beneficial results not only for health but for the voice. it develops the retental action of the breath. a true use of the voice demands a full chest. this exercise strengthens the muscles that reserve the breath and support the tone. the process of respiration is most directly necessary to all the actions of the human organs. it is an essential part of circulation. the breath we take meets the blood. the blood is carried from the heart through the lungs and back to the heart, then out through every organ of the body and back again to the heart. the whole circulation is a mighty process by which the blood receives sustenance, bears this to every organ of the body and carries back the refuse which is oxidized and given out by the lungs. the blood, according to the earliest tradition, is the life. all ancient writers on long life "regard the control of the breath as a fundamental sign." a person with little control of his breathing is doomed to a short life. nature has so constituted us that at the moment of some excitement, or the reception of some impression, or the instant we try to do something unusual, we take a greater amount of breath. in any exercise, always allow the breathing to act freely. observe that breathing is the initiatory act or condition of all human effort. it is a sign of the reception of an impression and is thus one of the conditional acts of expression. breathe deeply and freely at all times. a deliberative breathing exercise, such as the preceding, strengthens all the respiratory muscles and corrects abnormal tendencies. 5. primary co-ordination in levitation simultaneously lift and expand the summit of the chest as you actively extend the balls of the feet downwards. the opposition between the lifting of the chest and extending the balls of the feet takes place in all good positions in standing and walking. this exercise initiates or accentuates the co-ordination of the muscles used in standing. it tends also to harmonize and bring into unity all the conditions so far attained, and gives practical application to those parts of the body which are active all day, in standing, walking and in sitting. all exercises must be performed rhythmically. there are many elements in rhythm, one is activity and passivity, and another is the alternation of parts:--one limb is active and this helps alternation or rhythm. 6. harmonic and rhythmic extension lift the chest and extend the right foot downward, then lift the chest with the downward extension of the left foot, rhythmically alternating from one to the other. this is the first step in the development of rhythm. this alternation is still more akin to the action of the body in standing and walking. allow the hip to extend outward on the same side which is being extended. co-ordination, that is a simultaneous and sympathetic union of many parts in one action or a harmonious variation of a primary response in many parts, is one of the primary characteristics of the organism. it can be secured by a certain feeling that the whole nature shares in the exercise, that the whole body responds to the whole being of man. it is a direct expression of joy and sympathy. in an involuntary performance there is always less co-ordination than in a sympathetic motion. these are feelings vitally necessary to co-ordination and we must not only have and feel them, we must express them in the body. the alternation of exercises introduces rhythm, which has been found to be one of the most fundamental elements in training. rhythm consists of proportion in time. this proportion is in alternation: alternation of activity and passivity, and in alternation of one part with another, as in walking. rhythm is the continuity of co-ordinations. co-ordinations cannot be properly preserved without rhythm nor can there be rhythm without co-ordinations. the exercises 2 to 6 should all be included in no. 1. they should also be individually practiced in order to accomplish the best results and to avoid the omission of any of these primary elements which should be present in and co-ordinate every true exercise. after being practiced individually, exercise no. 1 should be practiced several times with a greater co-ordinating union of all the elements. the feeling of satisfaction and joy should be realized at once. 7. co-ordination of primary conditions repeat exercise no. 1; stretch first the right arm and also the leg, bend the left arm and left leg and so on in alternation. preserve all the movements. the difference between this exercise and no. 1 is the stretching of each side in alternation. the same elements should be included. 8. primary co-ordinate voice conditions sustaining all the foregoing conditions; extension, expansion and diffusion of feeling, the retention of the breath and the simultaneous openness and relaxation of the throat, laugh low but heartily:--ha ha, he he, etc. the tone should be soft and pure. the softer the better. if there is any danger of waking or disturbing someone the exercise should not be omitted but practiced softly. joy must not only be felt, it must be expressed. this series of exercises is based upon the fact that the greatest exercises are expressive movements. the smile on the face and active laughter should be used as direct exercises, not only for the body but also for the voice. this exercise implies some understanding of the fundamental elements of vocal training. the primary co-ordination of voice conditions, that is, the sympathetic, harmonious and elastic retention of the breath causing the co-ordinate passivity at the throat has been explained in "mind and voice." this was my discovery and the mastery of it has helped thousands out of ministerial sore throats and other abnormal conditions, and, to my mind, is proved as a fundamental principle. it is of the utmost importance that this little exercise should be practiced in accordance with the principle. the great point of the exercise is the elastic, sympathetic retention of the greatest possible amount of breath and the simultaneous passivity and openness of the throat. the study of laughter or the best possible tone anyone can make will enable him to realize this deep but simple principle. the effect of this exercise is to centre the breath and to harmonize the activities of the whole man. the central organs should always be exercised before the organs of the surface. the laughter must be sincere, genuine, hearty and natural. no one can imagine what wonderful effects can be brought to the voice by such simple exercises as these. the voice is an index, not only to mental and emotional conditions but to health. the voice cannot improve truly without improving health. we reserve breath and have a certain sympathetic fullness due to retention of the breath in the middle of the body. simultaneously there is an openness of the whole throat and tone passage. all the organs of voice are thus brought into right conditions. when this condition is violated there is a misuse of the voice. vocal training consists in the use of such simple exercises as will establish all these conditions that have been mentioned, especially the last. the conditions of voice must be co-ordinated, the vocal organs must respond to thinking and feeling. we cannot ignore, we must demonstrate on every plane. man is given the greatest opportunity for progress. it is an opportunity he must take. there is no growth, no advance without labor. the labor may not be voluntary, it may not be hard, but man has his work to do. it is a joyous work. man has an instinctive desire for right exercise which will enable him to really unfold his faculties and demonstrate his powers. 9. freedom of vital organs lying as before, placing both hands flat upon the stomach, keeping the body extended and expanded, breathing full and free, manipulate in a circular, triple rhythm or backward and forward, in dual rhythm, all the vital organs. the thumbs may be placed up under the floating ribs. this exercise is usually given first in swedish medical gymnastics. it is especially for the stomach, though it has a vital action upon the liver and other organs. such manipulations are beneficial to a dyspeptic or to one suffering from congestion of the liver, or from constipation. it is a very important exercise and stimulates all the parts so that they will receive more benefit from the following exercises. when any particular part, such as the stomach or liver, is found a little tender or sore, special attention should be given to this spot. 10. freedom of the torso preserving primary conditions, turn the hips vigorously as far as possible one way and then the other. this gives a vigorous twist through the centre of the body. it affects the stomach, liver and all the vital organs, and if the chest is kept expanded and a full breath is retained, it greatly affects the diaphragm and action of the respiratory muscles. these movements may be taken also with dual and with quadruple rhythm. if done slowly and steadily, in true rhythm and sequence, they will accomplish surprising results, and bring about a deep harmony. if there is congestion the exercise should be performed twenty or twenty-five times. this exercise frees the torso and makes it flexible. it strengthens the diaphragm and, obeying one of the fundamental laws, exercises the central muscles of the body. do not give sudden jerks or sudden collapses, but steadily, definitely and vigorously pivot the hip. in many people, there are tendencies to congestion in the stomach, and in the neck and throat. this rotary action tends to remove these constrictions and to develop a certain flexibility in the whole torso. 11. freedom of neck and throat knead with both hands the whole throat and neck, moving every part and eliminating any soreness or stiffness. the night gown should be unbuttoned and the breast bare. the fingers should be used and also the palm of the hand and the thumb so that every part of the neck and throat shall be set free. in most persons spots will be found that have some tenderness or soreness, especially if there is any cold or sore throat, and these parts should receive careful attention and manipulation, which should be continued until the soreness is removed. persevere until the whole throat feels perfectly free and relaxed. it is often the case that some gland is weak and can be strengthened by this massage. this exercise and that of the manipulation of the stomach, as well as the exercises which follow, have a wonderful effect upon the voice. 12. freedom of neck and head pivot the head as far as possible to the right and then as far as possible to the left. this exercise is also best practiced in quadruple rhythm. the hands may be around the back of the neck. knead deeply and remove any congestion. the efficiency of this exercise may be increased by placing the hands on the neck so that at the moment of extreme pivot the hand may knead the parts. this action of the hand increases the effect and tends, in cases of congestion around the throat or ears, to give great assistance towards the elimination of all abnormal conditions. the other exercises for the manipulation of the throat tend to correct catarrhal conditions. 13. elevation and extension of lower limbs observing all the conditions, lift the right foot, knee straight, as high as possible, then slowly release it, then lift the left in the same way. the movement should also be done in quadruple rhythm. the lift should be slow, and there should be a decided staying of the activity, and then a very slow release; then complete rest. the effect of this exercise is to accentuate further the idea of rhythm; that is, it requires alternate activity and passivity in sequence or a continuity of co-ordinations. in performing this exercise almost an ache may be felt at the back of the legs, especially at the back of the knees. this is due to the fact that these muscles become too short in sitting and therefore need extension. this exercise gives extension to these muscles. similar aches will always indicate a lack of extension and call for special help and practice of the opposing muscles. of course, it can be seen that whenever parts of the body, such as the knees, are kept bent, the muscles at the front of the limb will grow too long and those at the back of it, too short. hence, when a man stands up there is a tendency to stand with the knee bent. old men have a lack of firm backward spring in the knee. it is the aim of several of the exercises to cure this. 14. extension of the back with the body well expanded, kept straight, breathing free and full, lift the hips bearing the weight upon the back of the shoulders and the heel. this exercise needs to be practiced with quadruple rhythm slowly. it gives wonderful exercise to the central muscles and organs of the torso. 15. elevation of lower limbs with the body well extended and all conditions sustained, lift both legs, knees straight, hold, slowly release, then completely rest. this exercise is the best help that can be given for a hollow back. it also brings activity into all the abdominal muscles. it will strengthen the muscles concerned in the support of the voice. if the chest is kept well expanded and the lungs full of breath, the exercise will have a wonderful effect upon the diaphragm and the respiratory mechanism. it will strengthen and deepen the breathing and make it more central and reposeful. 16. rhythmic alternation in extension combine the last two exercises and give them in alternation. first, lift the body, then rest, then lift both feet, then the body, and so on. this alternate movement will bring great relief. the muscles are more or less opposed; at any rate, the activity concerned in each exercise will receive a rest during the other action. this, of course, uses rhythm as an aid. true, natural rhythm is always helpful and should be introduced whenever possible. 17. rotary action of the feet with the heels resting upon the bed carry the balls of the feet in the widest possible circle. this exercise may be omitted, but it is very important for one who is lacking in freedom in the feet or who suffers from cold feet. it also brings into action the lower extremities and tends to further equalize the circulation. 18. mobility of the face rest a moment and feel a sense of satisfaction and then smile and place both hands upon the face, covering it as far as possible and knead the muscles, so as to eliminate every constriction and allow the diffusion of the smile to go into every part. do not laugh at this exercise but observe the effect. this exercise, however, should be practiced in union with the smile. pay especial attention to any part of the face where there are constrictions or tendencies to constriction, and especially any part that may seem to droop. where there has been a good deal of suffering or whining, or both, certain parts of the face, especially the corners of the mouth, are turned downward. this habitual action causes the muscles that lift the corners of the mouth to become too long while the corresponding muscles that draw the mouth down become abnormally short. kneading is, primarily, to give extension to the muscles that have become too short, and the laughter at the same time is to give exercise to the muscles that have become too extended or elongated. all parts of the face will be brought into proportion. crows' feet will be eliminated and the beauty and expression of the countenance greatly increased. where there seems to be no muscle between the skin and bone, as sometimes in the forehead, there must be manipulation, exercise of the weak muscles. in the case of the face we have to bring in so-called secondary motions. we have to use the hands in the way indicated to get any effect. of course, the effect will be temporary unless the disposition is changed. the mental and emotional actions are always the primary cause, but frequently the condition of the muscles has become such that it will take a long time to effect a change. the exercises, accordingly, are a wonderful help. if one-tenth of the power of this exercise to help the countenance were realized, it would not be neglected. one of my students opened a room and secured quite a following in facial massage by using these exercises. some cruder than this one were used, though good results were accomplished. this exercise, as here suggested, can be done by anyone alone. if people use it who have constricted countenances, they should carefully emphasize the smile. that has not been done and hence the best results have not been secured. the faithful practice of such an exercise and especially the study of the significance of the smile and the practice of laughter, in union with other exercises for the stimulation of vitality, will work wonders in the expressive mobility and beauty of the countenance. it is worth ten times all the cosmetics as a beautifier. it would banish "beauty parlors." it is not, however, for the restoration of beauty of the countenance, but to bring blood into parts that are not used. it has good effect upon catarrh, headaches and neuralgia. while resting the larger muscles of the body these two important exercises may be introduced, or they may be introduced as the last of the first series, while lying on the back. 19. freedom of the scalp placing the hands upon the head move the whole scalp freely and easily in all directions. this is really the only effective remedy for imperfection at the roots of the hair, falling hair, or baldness. it will cause natural and rich growth of hair. it is well, also, to pull the hair. one specialist gives this as the only remedy to prevent it from falling out. not only will such exercises improve the hair by improving the circulation around the roots, but it will make the muscles of these parts more flexible. 20. extension and freedom of the vital organs turn over, face downward, with the body well extended, bearing the weight upon the toes and the elbows, with the upper arm vertical, lift the hips and torso till the body is extended in a straight line. be sure that the upper arms are vertical and the fore-arms parallel with each other. try to keep the body as straight as possible and get the sense of extension. this may seem to be a severe exercise, but it is not dangerous. in fact, more than any other exercise it tends to correct abnormal conditions in the central portions of the body. it allows the vital organs to be suspended from another angle, rests them, and tends to restore all to normal conditions. this exercise should be performed in quadruple rhythm, steadily, and slowly. attention should be given to the complete rest at the climax. practice it a few times at first until the strength is sufficient to repeat it many times. it is an unusually important exercise in case of any constrictions. it strengthens also certain muscles of the torso which are apt to be neglected. this making a bridge of the body, supporting it by the upper arms which should be vertical, and the feet which should also be vertical, has a great effect upon all the internal organs of the torso. it affects any sort of displacement and any kind of congestion. the exercises may be practiced slowly, rising and then staying the activity for a little while, and then allowing the body slowly to descend. take a good rest as the exercise is rather vigorous for some persons, especially those who have any weakness through the torso. those whom the exercise taxes are they who especially need it. it should be repeated several times. 21. pivotal elevation of the head pivot the head as far as possible to the right, and then lift it backward. release and carry to the left, and lift it backward as far as possible. this exercise tends to strengthen the muscles at the back of the neck. it helps the extension of the chest, and strengthens those muscles which hold the head erect. 22. activity of the royal muscle lift the head as far back as possible, then slowly draw the chin in lifting the back of the head high. this exercise develops what sculptors call the royal muscle. this muscle is active, causes an erect head and gives a certain dignity to the carriage of the body and is usually associated with a properly expanded body. of course, it alone is not sufficient for a dignified carriage because there must be an expanded chest and the whole body must be normally erect. this muscle, however, plays an important part. it is at the summit of the line of gravity and affects not only the carriage of the head but has a sympathetic effect on the chest. when it is strong and vigorous it tends to make the whole body erect and to bring into sympathetic co-ordination all the muscles used in standing. 23. extension of hips and abdomen with the body well extended lift the right foot, knee straight, as far backward and upward as possible. then release, and lift the left foot in the same way. this exercise should be used alternately and given a good deal of activity. the heels may be extended or stretched downward as they are lifted. this will give greater extension to the muscles at the back of the leg. this exercise causes extension of certain muscles which are kept short when sitting. it is also beneficial for the back. 24. rotation of right shoulder turn over to the left side. vigorously rotate the right shoulder, carrying it in as wide a circle as possible. this rotary action of the shoulders may be repeated several times in different positions of the body. the exercise is important for the freeing of the whole torso. the shoulders of most people are rather weak. they should be strong and vigorous especially in brain workers because their action tends to affect the circulation of the blood toward the head. it has also an effect upon the summit of the lungs and certain regions which need freedom. the rotary action of the shoulders may be given best when lying on the side. the action of the shoulders, however, should not be neglected as it brings a harmonious circulation in the region of the throat. the exercise tends also to affect the whole summit of the chest. the active shoulder expresses animation and ardor in passion. a good strong shoulder is also an indication of vitality. the circular and rotary action of the shoulders, the feet, and the hips, is best performed with triple rhythm,--first, upward and forward; second, backward; third, release. the release may be quick and firm. triple rhythm has a very sympathetic and stimulating effect. the run is more of a triple rhythm, while the walk is dual. all forms of rhythm, all of the metres should be introduced into the various exercises. 25. rotation of left shoulder turn over to the right side, and rotate the left shoulder in the same way. whenever an exercise is taken for one side it should also be given for the other unless there is special reason for remedying some condition of one-sidedness. exercises for the centre of the body should always be given the preference. there should be as far as possible a series of exercises. thus far, the exercises are all used lying down. they may be taken in bed but, of course, it would be better if the bed were firm and not too soft, not too yielding and as level as possible. the exercises would often be more helpful if taken on the hard floor. it is better to sleep on a narrow cot as cornaro did. this prevents our doubling up the body and contracting the vital organs. everyone should lie down to sleep tall, or long, and as expanded as possible. another reason for sleeping on a cot is that there are no hindrances to lifting the arms behind the head in some of the first exercises. if we sleep on a bed, when we exercise, the body should be placed more or less across it so as to give more freedom to the arms, or the arms may be stretched out straight at the side although this is not so good. 26. elevation of chest and breathing sit erect, as tall as possible. expand the chest fully, carry the arms forward, then backward, gripping the hands almost under the shoulders, chest out as far as possible, taking a deep breath. repeat this rhythmically many times, sustaining as far as possible the expansion of the chest. it will be observed that there will come naturally a desire to sit up. it may be well before sitting up to turn on the back and rest a moment and feel the enjoyment of the actions that have been in the body. if the exercises have been properly practiced, there will be a sense of ease and satisfaction. 27. pivotal flexibility of chest sitting as erect as possible with actively expanded chest, pivot the shoulders and upper part of the torso as far as possible, first to the right and then to the left. this exercise may be performed to advantage with quadruple rhythm. this movement exercises almost the opposite muscles from exercise no. 10. it also has the same beneficial results in the extension of the chest, the removal of constrictions or interferences with the diaphragm, and has a beneficial effect also upon the stomach and all the vital organs. it is an important exercise for strengthening the muscles of breathing and deepening respiration. it should be repeated many times. 28. extension of muscles of the back stand, stretch arms upward as far as possible, then carry them in the widest possible circle. relax the back and all parts of the body so that the fingers come to the floor or near it. then return and carry the fingers as far back as possible. this exercise brings extension into all the muscles of the back. frequently, it is the best possible exercise to develop the chest since the extension of a muscle also stimulates its right contraction. the elbows and knees should be kept as straight as possible in this exercise. the wide circle should be made not only in coming down but in going back forward and over backward. this exercise causes great extension of the muscles. the muscles from the heel all up the back of the legs and even of the arms are affected. then in getting back the muscles of all the body receive a similar extension. this action is very helpful for the development of erectness of the body. it also causes alternation of the muscles and has a good effect upon the health. 29. extension of muscles at the side standing erect carry the hip out over the right foot, surrendering the whole body to the left side. allow the weight to be carried out over the left foot, the left hip being widely extended. this exercise tends to get freedom for muscles at the side and the hip so that the hip upon which the person stands will naturally sway out to the side, and the free hip will be surrendered, bringing the body very naturally into its spiral curves. 30. co-ordination in standing standing erect, expand the chest in opposition to the balls of the feet, and allow the body slowly to be lifted seemingly from the summit of the chest upward. allow it to return very slowly and steadily and to sink to the heels. repeat many times. this exercise should also be practiced upon each foot separately. it establishes right co-ordinations of the body in standing and helps in establishing accordant poise. all the muscles in the body which tend to bring the summit of the chest and the balls of the feet into right co-ordination are brought into sympathetic activity. it is really an important exercise for the development of a correct bearing and posture of the body. in going upward, be sure that the chest reaches upward and that the body is lifted by a species of levitation. keep the body as straight as possible from the heel to the centre of the neck, preserving a sympathetic expansion of the chest at all times. this exercise acts upon the whole body, tending to bring all parts into normal relationship. 31. extension of chest placing your hands against the sides of a narrow door way, allow your weight to come forward upon the hands, the knees straight. take a full breath, then carry the body back by action of the arms. this presses the shoulders back and causes expansion of the chest, and a deep breath should, of course, be taken. the exercise should be repeated many times. this exercise, as well as all others, should be practiced where the air is pure. observe that this exercise can be made more severe by placing the feet farther back from the door so that the weight of the body will fall more upon the hands. in this case the hands may be lower. they should be placed slightly below the shoulders. 32. harmony of respiration and circulation lift the arms as high as possible and grasp a pole which has been placed so that it can barely be grasped on tiptoe, and let your weight rest upon the hands, and endeavor to touch the floor with the heels. one can easily have a pole placed upon hooks as high as possible inside a closet. this exercise frees all the muscles of the back and carries the blood away from the head. it is an exercise especially recommended by baron posse for brain workers. after the exercises take a sponge bath, or if preferred, rub the chest and throat vigorously with a rough cloth with cold water. some people prefer an entire bath, but getting into very cold water often has a bad effect upon the circulation and breathing. the water should not be too cold at first until one becomes accustomed to the unusual stimulation. rub till dry and warm. injury may follow if there is not reaction. this program may be lengthened or shortened to suit individual needs. many exercises can be added by each one according to instinct. some, for example, those turning to the side, except possibly the relaxing of the shoulders, may be shortened. the exercises may be lengthened also by practicing one a longer period of time, making repetitions of a hundred or more. they may be shortened, too, by giving each movement a shorter period. each student must study himself and adapt the exercises according to need. feelings of enjoyment, however, are not a safe guide. we are so apt to let the dull and stupid feeling take possession in the morning and omit the exercises for the day. it takes resolution to perform them but in a few minutes the reward comes in a feeling of satisfaction and rest. the exercises are usually the best means of removing the feeling of dullness. that, indeed, is one of their chief aims. co-ordinating the performance and the joyous attitude of man will soon cause the exercises to be developed into a habit and one will feel the need of them as much as he feels the need of food. the exercises demand joy, expansion, extension, stretching, deep breathing, co-ordination of various parts and the specific accentuation of the movements and harmonious as well as rhythmic alternation. in general, a person can arrange from this program, shorter ones of from five minutes to thirty, according to individual needs. the principles underlying the exercises should be carefully considered. this will enable students to remember more easily and more correctly to practice the successive exercises. moreover, in the practice of the exercises, as has been said, the aim should be always kept in mind. thus the simplest action may be turned into the most important exercise by being practiced in accordance with principles and for a specific aim. to aid those who wish a shorter program, one that will not take over ten minutes, the following may serve as a helpful guide. 1. combine all exercises from one to seven:--laugh, expand the chest, breathe deeply, co-ordinating the balls of the feet with the chest, and stretch. emphasize all of these exercises. it may be wise to count say six specific, successive steps: 1, the expansion of the chest; 2, deep breathing; 3, laughter; 4, stretch; 5, gradual relaxation; 6, complete release. one should be sure that each of these elements is practiced correctly. it is wise at first to individualize them until they are normal and then such a combination becomes efficient and may be in fact advisable as a step in progress. 2. combine exercises nine and ten:--that is, knead the stomach in combination with the pivot of the hips. 3. exercises eleven and twelve in a similar way combine the kneading of the neck and throat with the pivotal action of the head. 4. sixteen may be practiced in a way to unite fourteen and fifteen. 5. eighteen and nineteen may be practiced as one. the movements, however, should be separated and may be alternated by passing from the face to the head. 6. exercise twenty, as many others, should always be practiced individually and separately. 7. twenty may be combined, but not so well with eleven and twelve. 8. all the sitting exercises may be omitted or combined with the standing exercises taken before the exercises on the pole. v how to practice the exercises since exercises are primarily mental it can be seen that it is not merely the movement but the mental and emotional attitude toward that movement, in short, the conditions of its practice, upon which the accomplishment of right results most depend. an exercise performed with a feeling of antagonism, gloom, or perfunctorily without thought, will not accomplish nearly as much as one practiced with sympathy and joy. only thinking and feeling will establish the co-ordinations. mere perfunctory performance of an exercise or a mechanical use of the will may produce certain local effects, and in this way may actually do harm, while the same exercise practiced with a feeling of joy and exhilaration will bring into co-ordination various parts, and, in fact, affect the whole organism. practice the exercises accordingly for the fun of the thing; laugh, feel a joyous exultation. joyous normal emotion acts expansively. the circulation is quickened and the vital organs are stimulated to normal action. without the awakening or enjoyment of life the vital forces show little response. if anyone will examine himself in a state of anger he will feel that it is the lower part of his nature that is dominating him. he can realize that his muscles and vital organs are constricted and cramped. who has not felt a deep feeling of bitterness, almost of poison, after a fit of anger? who has not felt a certain depression, at times even of sickness, after antagonism or giving up to despondency? there is also a feeling above negative emotions of certain dormant possibilities, certain affections and a better nature in the background. in all true exercises this sub-conscious, better self should be the very centre of the endeavor. so universally is true training and even the nature of an exercise misunderstood that it may be well to summarize a few points to secure intelligent practice. 1. practice with your whole nature. do not regard the performance of movements as a mere matter of will. expression requires a unity of the whole life of our being. regard an exercise as a means of bringing all your powers into life and unity. let practice be a means of demonstrating your own abilities, spontaneous and deliberative activities to yourself. 2. practice with an ideal in mind. the accomplishment of an endeavor implies the reaching or attainment of an ideal. practicing with no end in view accomplishes nothing. the goal must be an ideal. there is a universal intuition in an ideal man. there is an intuition deep in ourselves of our higher possibilities. the feeling that better things are possible inspires all human endeavor. movement merely for the sake of movement, mere haphazard practice, without an ideal, accomplishes but little. we want not only an instinctive ideal but we want one which is the result of thought and study. 3. practice hopefully and joyfully. that is to say, there should not only be thought and imagination in practice, there should be feeling,--a normal and ideal emotion. the realization of the possibility of attaining an ideal brings joy, hope, courage and confidence. 4. in every exercise feel a sympathetic expansion of the torso. it is not only necessary to feel joy, we must express it, and the primary expression of joy is expansion. expansion is needed not only as one of the exercises; it is more than this. it is a conditional element of all exercise. from first to last, in every movement, feel also a certain expansion of the chest. 5. in every exercise feel exhilaration of the breathing. increase of the activity of breathing in direct co-ordination with expansion is a part of the expression, not only of joy but courage, resolution, endeavor and all normal emotions. taking a full breath is given as one of the exercises, but here again we have a condition for all exercises. this is the reason why we should give attention to exalted emotion. it will diffuse through the whole body causing expansion and also quickening all the vital functions. respiration is the central function of the body. all the vital operations depend upon it. perfunctory exercises which do not stimulate breathing are useless and injurious. 6. accentuate the extension of the muscles of the body in all exercises possible. the kneading of the face helps the parts as well as being important in itself. if we rub the muscles while whining we tend to confirm the condition in the parts at the time. thus we may develop whines and frowns. it is very important, therefore, that there should be a cheery smile on the face during the manipulation, if the looks are to be improved by the exercise. in kneading the stomach and the diaphragm if we have a full chest, as in laughter, the manipulation will produce a far better effect upon the diaphragm than if we have little breath. in practicing an exercise, therefore, it is not only necessary to study which part most needs development or which muscle is weak, but it is just as necessary to notice which muscles need extension. 7. practice harmoniously. we should exercise all parts of the body in a similar way. if we exercise, for example, the action of the feet it is well also to practice rotary action of the arms, or at any rate, of the head. we should see to it that when we practice one part of the body the corresponding part of the body should be equally exercised. we should not give more exercise to one side or part, except when there are congested conditions. we should not give much more to the arms than to the legs unless we have to walk a great deal. 8. practice in such a way that every movement affects the central parts of the body. hence the program takes first the expansion of the chest and breathing and chuckling, also the transverse action of the torso. we should be cautious about performing violent exercises with the arms, or even with the feet, without simultaneous expansion of the torso because this is a central action which is conditional to all proper action of the limbs. contraction of the torso while working upon the limbs may draw vitality from the vital organs. gymnasts, as a class, die early because they are always performing feats. other dangers are found in the gymnasium, such as practicing exercises perfunctorily, using quick jerks and too heavy and labored movements which affect only the heavy muscles. the absence of rhythm and co-ordination, the presence of too antagonistic movements, the desire to make a show, too much work upon the superficial muscles are also frequent faults. another reason for the beginning of the day's exercise with joy is the fact that the positive emotions affect a man in the centre of his body. they are all expressed by sympathy and right expansion of the torso. this is not only central in expression, it is also central in training. the muscles affecting the more central organs should in every exercise in some sense cause co-ordinate actions in various parts. the expansive action of the chest is one of the chief exercises because it not only frees the vital organs but co-ordinates the normal actions of a man in standing and walking. observe that harmony demands that all parts be equally exercised, but unity demands that we begin our exercises at the center. the organic centrality of the whole body is of first importance. we should not only feel expansion of the chest in all exercises, but we should begin with exercises for the torso rather than with exercises for the limbs. we want to reach the deepest vital organs as a part of all exercises. sometimes a man goes into a gymnasium and works for the muscles of the arm, for example, while the muscles of his chest and around his stomach and diaphragm are weak. in this case the central muscles may grow weaker. exercises, not properly centred, will decrease harmony. i have found many people with lack of support of the voice and weakness of the diaphragm and the muscles relating to the retention of breath, but i have found very strong muscles in the arms, while the muscles in the center of the body were surprisingly weak. in following "external measurements" too much attention is often given to the muscles of the limbs that can be measured. it is easy to discover the fact that the lower limbs have more muscular development than the arms, but this is of little consequence compared with the weakness of internal and hidden muscles like the diaphragm. it cannot be too often emphasized that an organism necessarily is one. the parts sympathize with each other, and the higher the organism the more is this true. the voice expresses the whole being and body, and it not only calls for great activity of the central muscles, such as the diaphragm, but every part of the body seems to share in voice conditions. a human being with his legs cut off can never sing or speak as well as he could before he lost them. 9. as far as possible, always feel in all the muscles a sympathetic action with certain opposite parts that support or naturally co-operate with these. specific exercises must be directed to central and harmonious effects. for example, expanding the chest and extending the balls of the feet downward as far as possible co-ordinates the parts that are used in standing, though in a different way. it gives extension to the parts; and to extend muscles is often the best way to bring activity into them. formerly a horse was fed in a high trough in order to make him hold his head high, but no horse carries his head so high or has such a beautiful arch to the neck as the wild horse, that feeds on the ground. weak muscles may often be improved by giving them extension. this eliminates constrictions and brings more rhythm or balanced activity in opposition to other muscles or in union with them. the co-ordination must be felt. when there are co-ordinations there will be a sense of satisfaction in the vital organs. the exercises will not weary. they will not be a strain or tax the strength. they accumulate vitality rather than waste it. co-ordination must especially be studied and used consciously and deliberatively with reference to the chest. in the start of every exercise there should be, as has been said before, something of an increase of activity in the chest and the breath. 10. practice all exercises as rhythmically as possible. rhythm and co-ordination are the deepest lessons of life and are necessary to each other. activity and passivity must alternate in proportion as far as possible in all exercise. observe also that the active exertion of an exercise should determine the amount of the reaction. we should go as slowly in the recoil or eccentric contraction as we do in the concentric contraction. nature is always rhythmic. notice the beating of the heart, going on constantly for eighty or a hundred years. it acts and then re-acts. observe, too, the rhythm of the peristaltic action of the stomach. an exercise must obey this universal law of nature. jerks should never be permitted; but all be easy and gradual. even the surrender of a movement should be gradual. the eccentric action which results is more important in many cases than the concentric. for example, in the diaphragm we make voice by an eccentric action of the inspiratory muscles. we take breath by a concentric action of the diaphragm, we give out breath in making voice by eccentric contraction. rhythm, therefore, means primarily that there should be a rest after each exercise. if we feel very weary we should especially emphasize this rest. it is lack of this rest that causes strain and weariness and makes a person nervous. the normal effect of the exercises when practiced rhythmically, is to eliminate fatigue, correct nervousness and weakness. rhythmic movements accomplish ten times more than unrhythmic ones, even if unrhythmic movements do not produce unhealthy and abnormal results. observe that nature always responds to rhythm. the body will respond to rhythm. let the exercise be taken vigorously and definitely. let also the reactions or rests be equally definite and decided. vigor should never lead to constrictions or to great labor. if we lie on our back and stretch one side and then the other it is easier and we accomplish better results as a rule than we do by stretching both arms and feet simultaneously. it is hard to explain the sympathetic union of co-ordination and rhythm. i have never found any explanation or even reference to this. even dalcroze, who has so many good ideas regarding rhythm, has not grasped the principles of co-ordination of different parts of the body and especially the relation of co-ordination to rhythm. awkward people lack both co-ordination and rhythm and the two are vitally connected. by establishing co-ordinations we begin to establish rhythm, and by establishing rhythm we help in the co-ordinations. the principle of rhythm applies to all our human actions. we should walk rhythmically, and we should stand allowing all the rhythmic curves of the body to have their normal relationship. we shall always have the right rhythmic curves if we have the right centrality and co-ordinations. one of the greatest effects of music is due to the rhythm. all movements, however, have a rhythm of their own. 11. use in every exercise, as far as possible, all the primary actions of the muscles. we can distinguish four actions of the muscles. first, active contraction, shortening of the muscles sometimes called concentric contraction; secondly, we can stay the tension of the muscles at a certain point. this is called static contraction. third, we can allow the muscle gradually to release its contraction, that is, allow it to slowly lengthen. this is called eccentric contraction. fourth, we can take the will entirely out of a muscle and allow its complete quiescence. rhythm demands the presence of all these actions; and also all these elements in proportion. and in the practice of all exercises it is well to accentuate all four of these elements by counting. in the stretch for the whole body, for example, we can extend the limbs slowly as far as possible, and there will be a contraction of the extensor muscles. then we can stay the body when stretched to the fullest extent. then we can gradually release the action of these muscles and then completely rest. some of the exercises can be practiced with dual movements, first with activity and then release, but by varying the climactic action for a moment and gradually releasing, that is, by giving these a quadruple rhythm, we can accomplish better results than in the dual. in dual rhythm we are apt to collapse suddenly after a movement. in fact, it is harder to control the release of the contraction of the muscles than to control the gradual increase of their contraction. this is illustrated in the difficulty of retaining breath. breath is normally retained by sustaining the activity of the diaphragm, that is, its eccentric contraction. however, the body needs occasionally the complete surrender of muscles, but this should not be too sudden or jerky. the gradual surrender brings greater control and the higher type of development. when we use what are known as secondary movements, that is, when we use the hands to manipulate the stomach or when somebody else rubs us, we should restfully and completely give up the muscles and manipulate them or let them be manipulated in a state of rest. at times it may be well to manipulate a muscle when at full tension. when there seems to be a tendency to great constriction it may be well to manipulate a muscle during both contraction and relaxation and to test its relaxation. again if a muscle does not seem to act as far as possible the opposing one may be found too short and may be manipulated to allow greater extension. 12. practice thoughtfully. that is to say, study yourself. observe your needs. for example, stand against some perfectly straight post or door, with the heels and back of the head against it. where the back curves most, there will be room for the hand. now where do you feel the most constriction? give attention to such parts. even when lying on your back, by stretching the limbs and expanding the chest such wrong tendencies or faults in standing can be corrected. the chest can be set free when it is constricted. when it is carried too low you can directly separate the breast-bone from the spine. by sympathetic expansions of the torso and by manipulating with the hands the parts that are especially constricted, curvatures, even in the back, can be improved. in all cases in practicing expansion we should be careful that there is no increase in the curvature of the spine. the back should remain normal, or become more nearly normal if we find any perversions. a hollow back, as is well known, is more difficult to correct than a hollow chest, though both of them are abnormal. a hollow back can best be corrected by the lifting of the feet, and the extension of the muscles of the back. if the hand is placed under the back where there is the greatest curvature there will be felt a normal action upon this curve of the spine. one point which has been discussed is whether training can affect the bones, or only the muscles. the whole body can be affected by training if the right methods are used. in correcting something like a hollow back, which has been of long duration, not only the balance of the muscles but the very articulations and ligaments and even bones may be affected by patient and persevering practice. if there is congestion in the region of the throat, the pivotal action of the head is important, but the hands can be made to do a great deal of work also during the pivotal actions. such manipulation is one of the best remedies for sore throat, and also for dizziness, unless the dizziness is caused by a wrong condition of the stomach or liver, in which case the pivotal actions of the torso should be vigorously performed, with kneading by the hands, of the abdomen. if one limb is weaker than its mate it should be given more practice until balance is restored. if there is any muscle weak in any part of the body, we should find an exercise to strengthen it harmoniously. it can hardly be emphasized too often that the central muscles should be stronger than the surface muscles. whenever we find, for example, a weak diaphragm, we should use a greater number of exercises for it and be careful not to give too much attention to the arm muscles. it is not mere strength to lift a heavy weight that measures the degree of vitality or indicates length of life, but rather the harmony of all parts working together. the muscles connected with breathing should be stronger in proportion than the superficial muscles of the arms or lower limbs. people who perform one particular movement a great deal, such as a blacksmith in hammering, should study and use exercises for the parts that are habitually neglected. a little thought can correct every abnormal condition, even stiff joints and headache. by practicing patiently such tendencies may be practically eliminated. 13. practice progressively. exercises are often taken intemperately. the student begins with enthusiasm, feels uncomfortable results from the extravagance, and then gives up the exercises. begin carefully. patiently practice the movement at first ten or twenty times, counting four with each step and accentuating the stretches, each day increasing a little, and after a week or two the results will be surprising. let there be regularity even in the increasing of the exercises. we must take steps slowly, and gradually add others until we have the number which the normal condition of our system demands. study your own strength and the effects of the exercises upon you. there are many ways by which an exercise may be made progressive. first, by gradually increasing the vigor of the movement. for example, lifting the feet from the bed, one foot may be lifted at a time, which is easier, or both may be lifted only a few inches at first. second, the exercise may be performed more slowly and more vigorously. third, by repeating the exercise a greater number of times. fourth, by the addition of a greater number and variety of exercises. sometimes a person is lame from practice. this is usually due to the breaking of small, delicate fibres. these fibres may have grown together by monotony of movement and by extending them suddenly or violently they may have been wrenched apart too suddenly. muscular fibres should move freely. they will do so if we practice gradually, but violent practice may strain unused muscles and thus cause soreness. in general, the actions of muscles should be as varied as possible, but should be easily, progressively developed. every successive day, exercises should receive a little more vigor until normal conditions are established. some kinds of exercises may be omitted at first. we may leave out all the exercises sitting or those lying on the side. a few of the standing exercises may also be omitted. you will be tempted, however, to omit too much as a rule and then some special day to practice too many. even if you do get a little sore or lame or feel a little as if you had overdone it is better than under-doing, and nature will soon correct the abnormal condition. the next time you practice the exercise you can eliminate the bad effects of your former practice. in all cases of sickness, or weakness from any cause, special care must be given to gentle stretches and manipulation. the movements should be slow and steady. do not leave yourself in a state of pain but of enjoyment. remember that growth in nature is slow. the stronger the organism, like the oak, the slower the growth. a weed may grow almost in a night. be patient, therefore, do not worry,--be persevering and regular in all the habits of life. some constitutions need more exercise than others. those who are growing fleshy need quick, vigorous exercises, while those who are growing thin and emaciated need slow, steady ones, as do those who are nervous. 14. establish periodicity. all development in nature proceeds in a regular and continuous sequence. there are certain alternations and variations, but these take place at specific periods. the organism will adapt itself to regular periods. thus, if we take our meals regularly, we get hungry at the same time every day. we should go to bed at a regular hour; at that time the system demands rest and we become sleepy. parents are so anxious that their children have a good time that they frequently cultivate irregular habits and thus lay the foundation of future failure. health is greatly dependent upon regular hours for both work and recreation. anything that interferes with periodicity in the human body interferes with vital functioning. observe how regularly we breathe. there is a normal respiration, circulation, and beating of the heart which are practically the same for everyone. any variation from these regular rhythms is serious. this principle of periodicity applies to exercises as well as to anything else. some men have the habit of going to a gymnasium once a week. they take the exercises one day and neglect them for several days, then try to make up for lost time. the exercises in such cases are not enjoyed. they will be performed mechanically, if not perfunctorily: at any rate, satisfactory results will not follow. if we take exercises every day at about the same time, say upon waking in the morning and on going to bed at night, the system will come to long for them just as the stomach craves food. nature does not grow a little one day and then stop for a while; she does not grow a limb on one side and then another on the other side. all growth is continuous. of course, this continuity is rhythmic. there is a different action day and night, but this in itself is a form of periodicity. in the same way we have summer and winter. the tree feeds itself in summer and during the winter the life remains hidden at the root while the process of making the texture firm proceeds with rhythmic alternation. all phases of life and growth are periodic. if, for any reason, there is an unusually severe winter the plants are killed. if there is a long period of drought vegetation dies. a certain normal amount of rain as of air, food, or soil is necessary to the growth of the plant. one reason for practicing in the early morning is the fact that it will connect exercise with the natural habits of the individual. the time of waking up should be periodic and will be so if we retire regularly. the practice of exercises on first awakening or retiring will also tend to help the normal time and amount of sleep. if we take exercises on first waking, as suggested, we shall awake about the same time and with greater enjoyment. the system will come to expand naturally; every cell will leap like a dog that prances with joy when it sees its master getting ready to go for a walk. 15. practice regularly. not only should the time be regular, the amount of exercise also should be about the same each day. we should not give a half hour or an hour one day and neglect it entirely the next any more than we should eat one extraordinary meal and then go without anything to eat for two or three days. the same is true also regarding the kind of exercise. it may be helpful to change some of the exercises, but we should have exercises for all parts of the body. if we substitute one exercise for another we should take care to exercise all the parts equally. we may change the kind of food, but the degree of sustenance it contains should not greatly vary. 16. practice patiently. do not expect great results to come in a day, though you ought to feel some effect very quickly, yet it may take weeks, especially if there is any unusual weakness or abnormal condition. the slower and more varied the practice the better, other things being equal, because conditions are more important than the exercise and the normal adjustment of the various parts of the body is much more important than strengthening any local part. 17. practice slowly but decidedly and vigorously. the more slowly an exercise is practiced the deeper the effect. the lifting of the feet very slowly, for example, will have more effect upon the diaphragm than if done quickly. the holding of the chest high while lifting the feet slowly, causes wonderful action of the diaphragm and of the stomach and vital organs. slowness, however, does not mean hesitation, indifference, nor laziness. mere lazy, indifferent practice will accomplish nothing. let the movements be done slowly but decidedly and definitely. one should be careful if there is any particular part that causes pain. we should bring in secondary or kneading movements, with the hands. if the action is thoughtfully directed to the right part, if it is truly rhythmic and sympathetic, abnormal conditions will be removed. 18. exercise as well as sleep in the purest air possible. sleep with your windows open. let the air circulate across your room though not across your bed. let the air be as pure as that out of doors. perform your exercises in bed with your windows open and with but little covering. the vigorous exercises will bring greater warmth and you will feel the desire to throw off the blanket. some of the exercises, of course, as lifting the legs, cannot be performed so well without removing the covering. the method of practicing the exercises as well as the amount, number and character of them, depends greatly upon the health and the vitality of the individual, but there must be a continual advance in the vigor and the number of the exercises. vi actions of every-day life the benefit of exercises must be tested by the help they give to the actions of every-day life. the human body must perform certain movements which are continually necessary. these exercises enable us to do these movements with more grace and ease, with more pleasure to ourselves, with greater saving of strength and vitality, and in a way to give greater pleasure to others. 1. how to stand "man is the only animal," says sir william turner, "with a vertical spine." the bird stands upon two feet but the spine is not vertical. strictly speaking no animal stands erect except man. the primary aim of all true exercise for the improvement of health and the prolonging of life must affect the erectness of the human body and the counterpoise curves of the spine. the axis of the spine must be vertical. nearly all the exercises from the very first tend to accomplish this result. the expansion of the chest, the pivotal flexing of the torso, the lifting of the feet, the stretching, the co-ordinate action between the summit of the chest and the balls of the feet, and the exercises in sitting and standing, all tend to establish this most important condition. there must be activity at the summit of the chest. the head and the chest are the first to give up and sag. we can see that the skeleton has no bones below the breast bone to support it. the lower ribs are floating ribs and the other ribs have an angle downward. everything is arranged with reference to the expansion of the chest. this is the central activity in standing properly. we can see, as has been shown, that man is held up seemingly from above. man comes into stable equilibrium only when the body is supported from the summit of the chest. levitation opposes gravitation. it will be observed that the first exercises concern the expansion of the chest and when the exercises are properly performed, this expansion of the chest is indirectly sustained through them all. if we observe a person standing properly, we find that a line dropped through the centre of the ear will fall through the centre of the shoulder, the centre of the hip, and the centre of the arch of the foot. the things that cause bad positions are: the chest inactive, the hips sinking forward, the head hanging downward or lolling to the side, the body sinking to the heel, and weak knees; but all of these seem to be corrected when the chest is properly expanded and elevated. to stand well, therefore, one should stand upright; the chest well expanded so as to bring all parts into co-ordination and establish a true centrality in the body. in a certain sense, there seems to be an axis of the body by which it rests easily upon one foot while the other leg and hip are perfectly free. the body is also perfectly free to pivot and to pass the weight to the other foot. the recommendation to "stand tall" is more or less helpful, but there must be some qualification. stand tall, but not with rigidity or stiffness. the body must be elastically and sympathetically tall, and also sympathetically expanded, man must stand as if held up from above rather than from below, expanded and elevated by feeling and thought rather than by mere will. the centrality, ease and harmony of the poise are of more importance than the tallness. when one stands properly on one foot a spiral line from the top of the head to the foot is developed. the head inclines slightly toward the side that bears the weight, the torso slightly inclines in opposition and the active lower limb takes a slightly opposite inclination. this line which has been called the line of beauty is very common in nature. it is found all over the human body. when the face is animated with joy and gentleness, such spiral curves appear in all directions. the presence of this line is an element of a beautiful face and of a graceful body. the beneficial effects of such a poise are seen at once. the breathing is free. when a person stands in bad poise there is constriction of the respiratory muscles so that he is uneasy, he shifts from foot to foot. but when one stands in stable equilibrium, he stands restfully, easily and gracefully, and can move in any direction freely. his body also becomes expressive and acts under the dominion of feeling. 2. how to walk the character of a person's position in standing will determine the character of the walk. if one has learned to stand in stable equilibrium he will walk suggesting repose. if he stand in a discordant poise he will walk in a discordant chaotic way and will be continuously fighting to stand up. when a person stands in an accordant poise the walk is a progression forward and a levitation upward rhythmically and freely, the spiral lines alternating with every step. every line of the body acts rhythmically. there is not only rhythmical alternation of the lower limbs and of the movements of the weight from foot to foot but all the lines of the body alternate rhythmically. a good walk is the carrying out of a man's purpose. accordingly there is an attraction forward and upward at the summit of the chest. there are some abnormal walks where men seem to be drawn by the head, some walk as if drawn by the nose or chin, by the hips or by the knees or even the feet. the gravitation of the body forward toward the carrying out of one's purpose should be from the centre of gravitation and should be upward. "onward and upward, true to the line." man in his very walking seems to be a progressive being. to climb a declivity, he seems to move forward and upward. in a bad walk a man seems drawn downward. the poise of the body in standing and walking is most affected by this series of exercises. the co-ordination between the summit of the chest and the feet in rhythmic alternation, the simultaneous activity of the chest in all movements or exercises develop good positions in standing and natural actions of the body in walking. the extensions especially when in alternation bring the body also into the normal spiral lines and tend also to extend the muscles especially at the side so that the shoulder does not seem to be drawn down toward the hip, but acts with the torso freely. when exercises are practiced properly the whole bearing of the body will begin to improve. 3. how to sit badly as people stand, they sit possibly worse. most people sit in the most unhealthful as well as in the most ungraceful way. generally there is a complete "slumping" of the chest, the spine is brought into a wide, single curve instead of its counterpoise curves. all the exercises from the very first, have a bearing upon the establishment of the normal conditions of the spine. if the exercises are well practiced, especially the elevation and expansion of the chest, the spine is strengthened and its normally proportioned curves are established. bad positions in sitting are extremely common. book-keepers, editors, seamstresses and children in school need careful attention. special exercises should be given, such as the "harmonious expansion of the chest" in sitting and the use of the arms to develop the uprightness of the torso. bad positions in sitting are often due to a false sense of rest. muscles not acting harmoniously tend to completely collapse. many people sit without true rest, and are continually shifting their position in a vain search for rest. what is rest? the chief rest comes through the alternation of activity and passivity, that is, through rhythm. passivity alternating with activity brings rest to the human heart and is the best mode of rest. rest also results from normal functioning. a person can sit or stand in true poise, giving freedom to breathing, and be able to rest much more truly than in an unnatural, abnormal, collapsed condition. this can be well illustrated by the fact that when a person starts out to walk with the chest slumped, the head hung down and with all the vital organs cramped, he comes back more weary than rested. in walking we should, as has been shown, keep the chest well expanded, the body elevated, co-ordinating all the normal relations of parts. if we walk in this way it tends to rest rather than to weary us. therefore stand sympathetically expanded and easily tall. walk in the same way and sit in the same way. let there be a certain exhilaration and a sense of satisfaction. 4. how to lie down dr. lyman beecher said that one should always assume a horizontal posture in the middle of the day. the heart, he said, had less difficult work to pump the blood horizontally than vertically. henry ward beecher attributed his power to do a great deal more work than ordinary men to this habit of his life of always resting in the middle of the day. he justified his habit by quoting from his father, using even his father's antique pronunciation of "poster." there is no doubt truth in this. to one very active and who performs a great deal of work it brings a variety of positions and greater rhythm. it rests the vital organs. it brings a harmonious repose and relation of parts. even in lying down, we find abnormal conditions. some men cramp and constrict themselves. the chest is allowed to collapse and the whole body tends to be drawn together. grief or any negative emotion of feeling or condition destructive to health tends to act in this way. people, therefore, should lie down properly. they should lie down, as has been said, sympathetically and expansively long. they should directly manifest courage rather than shrinking, joy rather than sadness, with thankful animation rather than in a despairing state of mind. by the expression of joy and courage and peaceful repose and with a deep sense of the acceptance and realization of the good of life lying down will mean more. express this in the body by normal position, by expansion, no matter what attitude the body may occupy. man, whether he chooses or not, always expresses the state of his mind in the action of his body. and by cultivating the right mood and expressing the right feeling and so exercising the parts of his body as to express normally and more adequately that mood, men will develop not only health, strength and long life; but will also develop a nobler and stronger personality and more heroic and courageous endurance. the exercises, accordingly, should be applied to the simplest movements of every-day life. they must not be taken as something separate from life, but as an essential part of it, as necessary to life as a smile is to the face. vii work and play "blessed," says carlyle, "is the man who has found his work. let him seek no other blessing." a man out of work is one of the saddest of all sights. there possibly is a sadder one, the man who has lost the power to play. the child in whom the spirit of play has been crushed out is saddest of all. work is natural. one who does not love to work is greatly to be pitied. fortunately, such people are rare. when a man finds his work and becomes actively occupied with it he is happy. he, however, often overdoes it and the difficulty is not to work but to play. usually it is thought that there is antagonism between work and play. on the contrary, they are more alike than most people think. according to william morris, "art is the spirit of play put into our work." the union of work and play is absolutely necessary to human nature. by work we generally mean something that comes as a duty, something which we are compelled to do or something which we must do from necessity in order to win a livelihood. play is usually regarded as something that is pure enjoyment and spontaneous. a recent cartoon pictured a boy complaining because his mother had asked him to carry a small rug up to the top of the house, then portrayed the same boy, after a ten-mile trudge, climbing a steep hill with a load of golf sticks, the perspiration streaming down his face, saying, "this is fine!" the same task may therefore be regarded as work or play according to the point of view. the difference is the degree of enjoyment, the attitude or feeling toward the thing to be done. we can control our attention, we can look for interesting things in almost any effort. in either work or play we require a rhythmic alternation between enjoyment and resolute endeavor. the principles advocated in this book and its companion, "the smile," should prepare a man for the work and the play of life. exercises taken at any time should serve as a remedy for the evil effects of hard work of any kind. the exercises give the best preparation for work and because many of them are taken lying down they do not exhaust but accumulate energy. they also stimulate and develop a harmony and activity of man's whole being. the shortest and best answer that can be made to the question "how to work" is, to work rhythmically. this is the way nature works. there is action and reaction. the law of rhythm, which has already been explained, must be obeyed in our every-day tasks. it applies to every step we take. one of the best results of these exercises is that they develop a sense of rhythm. there are many violations of rhythm. one is continuing along one line too long. work can be so arranged as to be varied. we can work at one thing several hours and then we can deliberately drop it until the next day and take up some other phase of work. without rhythm, work becomes drudgery. a more specific violation of rhythm is a failure to relax and to use force only when needed. the greatest effect of force comes through action and reaction. sometimes a man uses unnecessary parts and uses them continually. that, of course, will cause weariness. there are hundreds of questions regarding such discussions in as many books in our day. mr. nathaniel j. fowler, jr., in "the boy," a careful book which is a treasure house of information, has gathered answers to leading questions from two hundred and eighty-three prominent men. many of these, in fact, most of them, advise a boy, when he is not satisfied with his work and is pretty sure that he is not adapted to it, to change his occupation. it is a difficult point upon which to give advice, but other things being equal, work should be enjoyed. when not enjoyed there should be a serious study of the man himself, a study of his attitude toward life, a study of his possibilities, a study of his opportunities, and also a study of what he is best fitted for, and an endeavor to find this. it is surprising, however, how far men can adapt themselves, even change their very nature in accomplishing a work which is laid upon them as a duty. one of the greatest artists of new england took care of his brothers and sisters and his father's farm, at a crisis, and kept a little shed outside the house where he painted at odd moments. he had an avocation as well as a vocation. he gave up his trip to study in europe as he wished to study; he did a vast amount of work which was regarded by many as drudgery, and he was compelled to study his art only at odd moments. despite all this, george fuller became one of the most illustrious and original of american artists. today his pictures are in all the leading museums, and command a high price. what is drudgery? dr. james freeman clark defined it as "work without imagination." anything can be made drudgery. a man can study art, or sing, paint pictures, edit newspapers, or write books and make his work drudgery. drudgery is working perfunctorily. it is work without aspiration, work without an ideal. no man can do anything well in life, without an ideal. if a man undertakes a certain work he must begin it by awakening and realizing the importance of that work in the world's life. he must form a definite ideal of the best possible way of doing that work and of its relation to the world. in short, no man can accomplish anything in a negative, indifferent attitude toward his work. he must look upon it from the side of its importance, the side of its beauty, the side that is interesting to him, the side that shows its influence and helpfulness toward the world. play, to the little child--and also to the hard working man--is more serious than work. when work begins to be perfunctory, play is the only remedy. in such a case a man is in a dangerous rut and must adopt a new rhythm. "all work, and no play, makes jack," or any other donkey, "a dull boy." the first principle of play must be to obey our higher impulses. to play means the ability to change our occupation. it means the ability to obey other impulses than perfunctory ones. some men regard play as something low. on the contrary, notwithstanding the "recapitulation" theory, play should be a new aspiration, a deeper assertion of freedom, a higher opportunity for suppressed energies. to play, certain feelings and conceptions of our nature must be awakened. play reveals character even more than work because it shows the latent impulses of the man. therefore, if in college, in school, or in childhood, in playing with companions, the right associations are brought to bear, the right persons are received as mates, then the very sympathy and contact with others will cause higher aspirations, deeper enjoyments, more spontaneous endeavor, and renewal of life. play is sub-conscious, it is giving way in some sense, to instinct; but it is deliberatively giving up. it implies enjoyment but it does not necessarily imply the gratification of low desire. something can be said in favor of athletics. a story is told of a gentleman who visited his nephew in a large private school. he went around the athletic field and asked the trainers about his relative. then the uncle found the boy in his room, digging. he said, "what are you doing here? none of the trainers see anything of you. what is the trouble?" the student answered, "i have been sick and i have been working hard to catch up." "get out of this," replied the uncle, "i went to preparatory school and to college to find friends, to get enjoyment, to learn how to play, to come in contact with men. that is the serious business of school and college." there are some who consider this the very worst of heresies. i used to think so myself; but contact with students in colleges and universities has enabled me at least to see the point of view of this gentleman. many times i have met men who were not getting the most out of their college or university course though you could not tell that from their scholarship or so-called "standing." they lacked the spirit of enjoyment, the power of initiative. they lacked the power of sympathetic touch with other men that makes greatly for success in life. to my mind there are some games which bring no sympathetic touch among men. mere games are not always worthy of the name of play. they become drudgery, and they cause certain constrictions. they fetter the whole life. they call for perfect silence, call for the exercise of great mechanical skill. frequently we find men playing games which are analogous, if not identical, with their work. games should be different from work. they should bring sympathetic enjoyment. they should bring exultation. a noted physiologist sent by his government to examine into the physical training of other countries visited a leading school in england and found the pupils one morning, during the best hours of the day, at play. approaching one of the boys, he asked for the principal, and was conducted very politely to the master. the visitor was greatly impressed by the boys. he asked the principal why it was that his boys were playing during the best part of the day. "ah," said the principal, "that is part of our method. we want the best time in the day to be devoted to their outdoor exercises and sports. we take the utmost care that the boys shall come into the most sympathetic spirit with each other, and anything that happens wrong on the playground is to us fully as serious as what happens in their studies." there is a universal conception that play is not serious. children are allowed to do just as they please. this is a mistake. froebel has taught the true spirit and importance of play. some people consider his explanations as being purely speculative, if not insane; but the great majority of those who have really studied child life agree with him. it is important what games the child is given. the play must be enjoyed. it should awaken creative energy. it should appeal to the imagination and feelings and not be a purely mechanical exercise of will. it is absolutely necessary for the unfoldment of character that the child come into touch with other minds, and also into contact with things. someone has summed up the whole principle in a sentence: "bring such objects before the child as will stimulate spontaneous activity." the objects may be animals, birds, leaves, flowers, balls, sticks, anything which can awaken human faculties or be turned into a tool. arts are given us rather for avocations, for our enjoyment, as a test of our ability to appreciate the different points of view. each art, as i have often tried to say, expresses something that no other art can say, and he is a cultivated human being who can read all the arts and enjoy them. the aim of art is to guide our energies in higher directions, and to stimulate our ideals. art develops attention and trains us to become interested in a great variety of directions. as a proof of this observe the great beauty of nature. we are stirred to go out of doors, to go into the woods and note the beautiful scene and the music of the pines that calls us. nature everywhere seems at play, seems to invite men to come out into her unlimited playground, the playground of universal principles and fullness of life. the poet, schiller, explained all art as being derived from the play instinct. it has been said that play is the overflow of life. life, love, joy, all noble ideals, must awaken spontaneity or they will not grow. all parts of man's nature must have expression and not be repressed. play is given to stimulate and to express the spontaneous in us, to manifest emotion and imagination and a sense of freedom. freedom is a necessity of all unfoldment. even the flower must bloom spontaneously from the energy within. the sun that calls forth the leaves on all the trees does so by warming the roots in the tree and bringing the gentle south winds which fan the waving branches into activity and cause the unfolding buds to be filled with spontaneous life. the whole world is full of joy and love. it is human ambition and jealousies that bring the hindrances. the rhythmic alternation and the necessary relation of work and play to each other can be seen in the very constitution of man. play alone may develop obedience to lower impulses; while work alone tends to repress the higher aspirations and spontaneous energies. even a man's health and strength as well as success depend upon the rhythmic alternation of work and play. while reading over the copy for this book for the last time, when in that agonizing state which some writers know, undecided whether to throw it into the fire or send it to the printers, i read at the suggestion of a friend, eleanor h. porter's little book, "pollyanna." that simple, wholesome story has given me courage. the fundamental lesson in it is that we should find always something about which to be glad, no matter how severe the trial or how disappointing the event. goethe gave as rules for a life of culture:--"every day see some beautiful picture, hear some beautiful piece of music, read some beautiful poem." these might develop culture in a narrow sense, but to broaden and deepen our lives we need every day to see something beautiful in nature, and in the lives and characters of our fellow beings. dr. howard crosby once remarked that by giving ten minutes to the telegrams of the newspapers any man should be able to keep in touch with the life of mankind. the boy scouts and the campfire girls are emphasizing some important phases of education and life which have been too often overlooked. one of the boy scout rules implies that every day a boy should perform some kindly act for others. the importance of a boy's stepping up to an elderly lady looking for an electric car and giving her assistance, or carrying a lot of bundles for someone cannot be too highly emphasized. these boys take no "tips." they are trained to serve for the sake of the serving. these suggestions and services awaken the higher nature of the boy or girl. such movements should be universally supported. one of the most important helps to the boys should not be overlooked. in offering their services they are led to express their best selves. it is important that they should learn to approach strangers with polite confidence and courage when offering assistance. i gave my seat once to a woman in a street car and at first i felt a little resentful because not by look or word did she express gratitude. as i glanced at the woman, however, i saw that she really desired to thank me but was embarrassed. she did not know how to do so. how few are taught the languages! if the boy scouts and the campfire girls do nothing else than to learn to express their willingness to serve they have made a wonderful gain for active, useful and successful lives. of course, the primary aim is the good deed, but are not the kind tone, word and polite bow fully as necessary? are they not the entering wedge and do they not appeal to the higher nature in the same way that the thought of being of service inspires the boy or girl? while doing is the great thing, yet it is necessary to say in union with doing. there is really no antagonism between expression in kind looks, tones or words, and acts. they are inseparably connected. these same principles apply also to the campfire girls. they must not only be trained to do things but trained to realize their own personalities and to draw out the best in others. then the actions will begin to be more expressive of the real personality of the boy or the girl and the seeing, doing and becoming will form an organic unity. someone has said that the great law of education is, first, to know; second, to do; third, to become. the doing implies not only action, but expression. certainly we do not become what we know till we do or express through word, tone and action. the most successful men in the world have certain principles to guide their every-day life. if we could only smile instead of frown, when people criticize or condemn us, how much more successful would be our lives! every day we can discover something interesting in our fellow-men. we can learn to listen. we should work when we work and play when we play. we should not play in a half-hearted way worrying about our work; and when we work we should do so with all our might. we ought to have regular periods of rest; we ought to avoid unpleasant topics in conversation. everyone should have a vocation as well as an avocation. may we not summarize all these suggestions into a few statements which will enable us to co-ordinate work and play, and aid us in our daily lives to obey the principles that should govern us from our first waking moments? every day: 1. smile when tempted to frown; look for and enjoy the best around you. 2. see, hear or read, that is, receive an impression from something beautiful in nature, art, music, poetry, literature or your fellow-men. 3. think, feel or realize something in the direction of your ideals and in some way unite your dreams with your every-day work and play. 4. express the best that is in you and awaken others to express the best in them. 5. serve some fellow-being by listening, by kind word or deed. 6. share in some of the great movements of the race. all these refer to an important point--that we should be teachable and should receive right impressions. this is of primary importance. breathing means the taking of breath. we should begin the day with joyous and glad acceptance of life and all that it brings. a spirit of thankfulness and acceptance is the true spirit of life. we, however, need active expression. as breathing implies not only taking breath but giving it out, so impression and expression are necessary elements of the rhythm of life. hence even these six things are incomplete. we should also exercise our higher faculties and powers, especially those we are not habitually using in our work. our whole nature should be active if we are truly to live. our higher faculties should not be regarded as concerned only in mere dreaming. our ideals should be connected with our daily work and contact with mankind if we are to cease drudging or working without imagination. accordingly by word, thought or act, we should express every day the best that is in us. moreover, fully as important as these, we should every day come into sympathetic touch with our fellow-beings and call forth the best in them. expression implies a neighbor,--some other being with whom we can communicate. do not think for a moment that such expression is empty. of course, we must go on and endeavor every day to serve someone by a kind act, but a kind word must not be despised. how many hearts are over burdened because they lack a sympathetic listener! to be a polite listener is one of the beautiful things in human life. remember, also, that many who have seen an opportunity and desired to do a kind act have failed from inability to express the wish by word, smile or bow. expression is not separate from impression. we must receive our impressions from every source, then we must express to others the best that is in us and become such sympathetic listeners that others will unfold the best in themselves and thus come into that plane where we can sympathetically participate in the lives of others. viii significance of night and sleep anyone who wishes for improvement in health, strength, grace, ease, or vitality, or, in fact, in anything, must realize especially the significance of the law of rhythm. rhythm is a law of the whole universe. the music of the spheres is no fable. observe, too, the rhythm of the seasons. everywhere there is a co-ordination of the finite and the infinite, the individual and the universal,--a unity of forces acting in a sequence of natural co-ordinations. of all the illustrations of rhythm one of the most important is the alternation of day and night. every plant awakes and rejoices with the sun and it recognizes the sunset and goes to sleep as the darkness comes. the few exceptions only prove the rule, and even these simply reverse day and night and are equally rhythmic. the value of day and night to man is well known. when there is a continuous work to be done it has been proven scientifically that those who work at night cannot accomplish so much as those who work by day. the very same man cannot do the same amount and grade of work in a night that he can do in a day. the human system is built up by various rhythms like that of day and night. there is a natural call for rest, for recuperation and the surrendering of all our voluntary energies that the spontaneous activities may have their turn. the psalmist, after he has gone all over the beauties of the world exclaims, "man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor until the evening." here he pauses, for the beauties of the evening seem to awe him for a moment into silence, and then he breaks forth into a universal paean of praise: "o, lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all." night is a part of the normal rhythm of nature. every plant and every bird welcomes night as well as morning. serious and abnormal, indeed, is the state of one who cannot sleep. next to the importance of a right awakening in the morning is the peaceful, restful retirement at night. edison boasts of how little sleep he needs, and claims that sometime man will cease to sleep. he says that sleep is only a habit. as a matter of fact, by working rhythmically through all the hours of the day, by obeying the law of rhythm at all times, a man may possibly need less sleep, but the repose of unconsciousness seems a part of the creator's economy. "he giveth his beloved sleep." by living in obedience to the law of rhythm and especially by taking some rhythmic exercises before lying down, we can sleep better. almost innumerable are the suggestions, rules, or recipes on how to go to sleep. one says, "keep counting until you fall asleep." another says, "watch a flock of sheep jumping over a fence, counting each one as it jumps." a third says, "watch a bird sailing around in the sky. keep the mind upon it and watch it as it steadily sails until you are asleep." someone says, "repeat the twenty-third psalm over and over, the more rhythmic, the better." another says, "think of the sky. keep the mind upon its expanse." still another, "think of the infinite and eternal source of the universe." among all these suggestions we can find some truth. nearly all of them imply concentration of the mind. if attention can be focused and held at a point, the excited activity of thinking may be stopped and the body consequently brought into a state of acquiescence. they succeed, if they do succeed, because attention is turned from worries to something besides the antagonism, excitements and duties of the day. another element in the suggestions is their regularity. watching the sheep jump over a fence and counting one at a time, for example, affects the breathing and all the vital forces of the body. this causes rhythmic co-ordination of all the elements and the unity of this will, of course, bring sleep. the sense of harmony and rhythm and self-control should be gained; all antagonistic, chaotic and exciting thoughts and all worry should be eliminated as far as possible before lying down. when we lie down, we should turn our attention away from the excitements of the world to something calm and reposeful. accordingly there is nothing better than to repeat some of the exercises of the morning. these stretchings, practiced slowly and rhythmically, will equalize the circulation, the taking of deep breaths, very rhythmically, will tend to restore respiratory action and the other exercises will tend to eliminate constriction from local parts. observe the necessity once more of harmonious thought and positive emotion, for here again there will be a temptation to dwell upon the failures of the day. it is so hard to forget some unkind word, some failure on our part to grasp a situation at the right time. we can easily remember the wrong word we ourselves spoke and deeply regret our failure to enter into sympathetic touch with someone. in such an excited frame of mind, with the nerves wrought up at the thought of the day's work and with all these discordant pictures thronging into our consciousness, sleep becomes impossible. sometimes one is too weary to go to sleep, or sinks into a deep slumber which is not normal. the taking of breath is short and the giving up of the breath more sudden. this sleep will not be refreshing. nine times out of ten such a one will wake up in the morning feeling more weary than when he lay down at night. of course, if a man could sleep for an unusual number of hours, nature might in time restore him. the excitement of our civilization prevents normal conditions and therefore we must aid nature. man must understand the laws of life and so use them as to find rest properly. we need harmony in our thoughts, to let them dwell on what is sacred and beautiful that our sleep may be normal and that we may enter into the world of slumber with sympathetic conditions. we must, also, laughingly throw off negative thoughts and feelings and allow expansion and stretching to equalize the circulation. all the vital functions must be harmonized. as we perform these exercises once more we find various congestions that have resulted from the one-sidedness of our day's work,--congestions around the throat, parts of the body are weary, constricted, and cramped. by stretching ourselves we can harmoniously adjust the activities of our breathing and circulation. all parts can be restored to harmony and we can rest properly. after all, what is rest? it is not a mere slumping into inactivity. it is allowing the involuntary rhythm of our being, the sympathetic co-ordination of all the forces of our body to act normally. the rhythm of our volitional activities must be given up to the rhythm of the unconscious and involuntary life. before this rhythm can reign we must remove all constrictions from any part of the body. after taking these exercises we should feel the sympathetic enjoyment of all the cells of our bodies, then sleep will be refreshing, the rhythm of breathing will be normal and the circulation and vital processes will proceed easily and rhythmically. what are the differences in the practicing of exercises in the morning and evening? in the first place the exercises in the evening should be more steady, more regular, more harmonious, slower and more rhythmic. every exercise must soothe the excited nerves, the agitated brain, and the weary respiratory muscles, the heart, and all the circulatory system. release needs to be especially emphasized. after every stretch, for example, every part of the body must be relaxed. the reaction will take more time on account of the greater activity through the day. we should, therefore, take especial pains to accentuate the recovery or recoil of the muscles into sympathetic passivity and rest. the object is now not to stimulate as much as in the morning, but to allay all excitement, harmonize the co-ordination of all parts, remove all local activities in the different parts of the body, establish centrality of the vital functioning and the diffusion of blood and feeling into every part. it is well to practice the exercises on a hard floor before getting into bed. the more violent exercises should of course be omitted unless there has been a one-sided position during the day. for example, standing exercises will be beneficial for a person who has been sitting all day. we must practice intelligently, and carefully apply such exercises as are needed. harmony means the removing of constrictions and over-activity in certain parts which one finds upon exercising. these often need to be vigorously exercised so as to restore the harmonious condition. on lying down on the floor feel in stretching as if the body weighed a ton,--feel the weight of the arms, legs and head. often we lie down but soon the excitement of a thought brings us to our feet before we know it. eliminate all such exciting ideas, then let the stretch reach every part. let it be slow and steady and let the release be gradual. there should be a complete rest for quite a little period before the next activity. other things being equal, the activity should be less than one-third of the surrender not only in time but in attention. just before going to sleep it is well to practice a few stretches and to give full expansion to the chest and to take a few deep breaths slowly and rhythmically so as to establish a vigorous and normal rhythm, equalize circulation and bring all parts into harmonious freedom. in order to emphasize the rhythm in our evening exercises we should accentuate and prolong especially the passive rest between the movements. we should not only more gradually give up the actions of the movements, accentuating the static and eccentric contraction, but we should also feel more sense of surrender at the end of each movement. that is, we should feel a sense of weight and of rest at the end of each action, breathing easily, steadily and freely, all the time. the time of this rest at the end of the exercising should be prolonged more and more especially after we are in bed and have felt the satisfactory feeling all through the body of harmonious diffusion of energy and the removal of constrictions. this sense of satisfaction through all the body is fundamental and necessary in order to bring healthful and normal sleep. the harmonious extension of all parts of the body should be emphasized. all stretches are truly conducive to sleep. they allow life to permeate through the whole body. the exercises, before going to sleep, should be less rigorous unless there are constrictions and these should be removed by simultaneous and sympathetic co-ordination of all parts of the body rather than by vigorous movements. after any local movement the stretch should be renewed and the affirmation made of some thoughtful and beautiful idea--as love, joy, peace. it will be surprising how quickly help will come and weariness disappear. the entire body, in every cell, will be soothed and enjoy sweet repose. the affirmation of confidence, love, trust, and peace should follow as well as precede the evening exercises. we should make the going to sleep a sacred part of our lives. in giving up our consciousness we should be sure to surrender it to the positive forces of the universe. this is not an idle dream, nor a mere mystical fancy. even from a psychological point of view the emotion with which we go to sleep is apt to remain with us and get in its good or evil work in the unconscious, involuntary metabolism that takes place in all the cells. we must lie down to rest in peace. "dr. thomas hyslop, of the west riding asylum in england," according to professor james in "memories and portraits," "said last year to the british medical association that the best sleep-producing agent which his practice had revealed to him, was prayer. i say this," he added [i am sorry to say here that i must quote from memory], "purely as a medical man. the exercise of prayer, in those who habitually exert it, must be regarded by us doctors as the most adequate and normal of all pacifiers of the mind and calmers of the nerves. "but in few of us are functions not tied up by the exercise of other functions. relatively few medical and scientific men, i fancy, can pray. few can carry on any living commerce with god. yet many of us are well aware of how much freer and abler our lives would be, were such important forms of energizing not sealed up by the critical atmosphere in which we have been reared. there are in everyone potential forms of activity that actually are shunted out from use. part of the imperfect vitality under which we labor can thus be easily explained." have a few simple sentences full of thanksgiving, of peace and rest. the best are found in the bible. the words to moses, "my presence shall go with thee and i will give thee rest," may be given and repeated many times with a realization of their deep meaning and a personal application to the individual. not only repeat phrases, lines, and verses, full of beautiful thought, but change these into your own words. learn to articulate your own convictions and apply them to your own needs,--even paraphrase, for example, such a phrase as "he restoreth my soul" in the twenty-third psalm. for the word "soul" we can substitute anything according to the specific needs of the hour. we should, however, use nothing that is not in accordance with universal love and the highest spiritual ideals of man and of our conceptions of the universe. we must always remember that truth is universal. we can change "soul" also to "health," "strength" or "life," to "joy," to "success," to "confidence," to the body or any part of the body which may seem to be afflicted. there are in this psalm other good affirmations on going to sleep. take individual clauses and repeat them many times, such as "i will fear no evil, for thou art with me." one of the best affirmations is found in the first of the twenty-seventh psalm. "the lord is my light and my salvation. whom shall i fear? the lord is the strength of my life. of whom [or of what] shall i be afraid? one thing have i asked of the lord, that will i seek after, that i may dwell in the house of the lord [in a consciousness of his presence] all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the lord, and to enquire in his temple [to commune with him in the sacred temple of my own soul]. "thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." everyone should find his own, should find it in his experience, find it by personal investigation and study of the bible and through spiritual realization. we should live in peace with all men, be able to rejoice evermore, "to pray without ceasing"; that is, we should always be in an attitude to receive that which is good and never admit that which is negative;--hate, antagonism or fear,--but we should welcome love and that which we know expresses the "infinite presence." antagonism, hate, discords prevent us from living our hundred years. "certain classes of men shall not live out half their days." the last moment before going to sleep should be one of peaceful rest. say "not my will but thine" and give up everything to the infinite and eternal. my own best help is thanksgiving and praise. when i cannot give up the thoughts and conflicts of the day, i can bring my whole being into reposeful rhythm best by expressing thanks that i can be awake and that i have shared in the life of a day. i praise the infinite presence that i can know beauty when i see it, that i can understand truth and know that two times three are not seven and that i can participate in the goodness of the universe. then, before i know it, i have laid aside the conflicts of the day and have passed into peaceful and harmonious rest. this method of thanksgiving especially applies to those times when i wake up in the middle of the night. * * * * * returning to pippa, we find her retirement to her own room and her method of going to sleep no less suggestive as an example than her awakening. she met the first wakening moment with joy and praise as she resolutely put aside the dark thought of her life and went singing all through the day with the same spirit of thanksgiving and love for all mankind. now she comes back to her room weary and discouraged, as we nearly all do. she knows nothing of what her songs have accomplished, nothing of the wonderful influence that has been exercised. in her disheartened moment she sees the sunset in the dark cloud and thinking over the day she would like to know what she really has done. yet she checks herself and returns to her morning hymn and keeps her faith and trust. "results belong to the master, thou hast no need to measure them." she becomes very humble, willing, and submissive to the hard task of the morrow. little she dreams of the revelation that will come of the secrets of her own life and family. "we know not what we shall be." each of us at the close of life lies down without realizing our relation to the infinite, without realizing that we are children and heirs. blessed is he who feels that his hymn is also "true in some sense or other," that life is true and that each one performs some work and it is not for us to say whether it is great or small. they who wrought but one hour received the same wages as they who wrought the whole day. deeply symbolical, allegorical, and typical in the poetic sense of human life is pippa's closing thought as she lies down to sleep. "oh what a drear dark close to my poor day! how could that red sun drop in that black cloud? ah, pippa, morning's rule is moved away, dispensed with, never more to be allowed! day's turn is over, now arrives the night's. oh, lark, be day's apostle to mavis, merle and throstle, bid them their betters jostle from day and its delights! but at night, brother howlet, over the woods, toll the world to thy chantry; sing to the bats' sleek sisterhoods full complines with gallantry; then, owls and bats, cowls and twats, monks and nuns, in a cloister's moods, adjourn to the oak-stump pantry! now, one thing i should like to really know: how near i ever might approach all these i only fancied being, this long day: --approach, i mean, so as to touch them, so as to ... in some way ... move them--if you please, do good or evil to them some slight way. for instance, if i wind silk to-morrow, my silk may bind and border ottima's cloak's hem. ah, me, and my important part with them, this morning's hymn half promised when i rose! true in some sense or other, i suppose. god bless me! i can pray no more to-night. no doubt, some way or other, hymns say right. all service ranks the same with god, with god, whose puppets, best and worst: are we; there is no last nor first." [she sleeps] * * * * * the morning league of the school of expression is a band of the students, graduates and friends of the school of expression who are trying to keep their faces toward the morning. if you wish to join, when you wake get up out of the right side of the bed, that is, stretch, expand, breathe deeply and laugh. fill with joyous thoughts and their active expressions the first minutes of the day. note the effect, and consider yourself initiated. try as far as possible every day to realize the league's unfoldment suggestions 1. smile whenever tempted to frown; look for and enjoy the best around you. 2. think, feel or realize something in the direction of your ideals and, in some way, unite your ideals with your every-day work and play. 3. see, hear or read, i. e., receive an impression from something beautiful in nature, art, music, poetry, literature or the lives of your fellow-men. 4. express the best that is in you and awaken others to express the best in them. 5. serve some fellow being by listening, by kind look, tone, word or deed. 6. share in some of the great movements for the betterment of the race. that is, use your principles of expression to help in such movements as: 1. expression in life (text book, "the smile"); 2. expression and health (text book, "how to add ten years to your life"); 3. expression and education in the nursery; mothers' clubs; 4. voice in the home; 5. reading in the public schools; 6. speaking in high schools and colleges; 7. speaking clubs; 8. browning clubs (text book, "browning and the dramatic monologue"); 9. dramatic clubs; 10. religious societies; 11. boy scouts; 12. campfire girls; 13. peace movements; 14. women's clubs; and suffrage organizations; 15. reforms; 16. teachers' clubs; 17. school of expression summer terms; 18. preparation for the school of expression; 19. home studies; 20. advanced steps of the school of expression. send your name and address with ten nominations for members with $1.50 for the two league text books, "the smile" and "how to add ten years to your life," and you will be recorded a member. one set of books will do for a family, other books at teachers' or introductory prices. there are no fees. the entire net returns from the league books will be devoted to the endowment of the school of expression, the home of the league. write frankly and freely asking any counsel, and making any suggestions to the president of the league. dr. s. s. curry, 307 pierce bldg. copley square, boston, mass. * * * * * morning league questions for report text-books--"the smile" and "how to add ten years to your life" after a week's exercise for a few minutes either on waking up or on retiring, write out a report of your experiences or answer the following questions. it is not necessary to repeat the questions, simply use figures. these questions follow the first series, published at the close of "the smile." 22. do you practice the exercises on waking in the morning? 23. what exercises do you usually take? how long? 24. what are some of the effects of these exercises? 25. how many times do you repeat each exercise? 26. do you practice exercises in dual, triple, or quadruple rhythm? 27. can you keep your chest expanded and laugh at the same time? 28. can you keep your chest fully expanded and pivot the torso? 29. do you feel great satisfaction after stretching? 30. what constrictions or congestions have you found? a. in the region of the stomach b. chest c. neck d. face e. scalp f. back 31. do you find any special weaknesses? 32. do you walk with expanded chest? 33. do you walk rhythmically? 34. can you keep your chest well expanded during the stretch? 35. do you practice exercises standing at an open doorway? 36. have you a pole from which you swing in your closet? 37. do you sleep well? 38. what exercises do you take on retiring? 39. do you relax completely in the middle of the day? 40. what chaotic movements have you discovered in your standing? in sitting? in walking? in lying down? 41. do you breathe through your nose or through your mouth, especially when asleep? 42. do you sleep with your windows wide open? 43. can you laugh out a tone? 44. taking a full breath and laughing, do your feel your throat passive? 45. can you co-ordinate an open throat and active retention of breath in laughing out a tone? 46. after walking a short distance do you feel exhilaration or depression? 47. do you use soft gentle tones in every day conversation? 48. when talking to someone who speaks in a high pitch can you act in the opposite way, and speak in your softest tones? 49. can you make tone as easily as you smile? for other questions, see "the smile." province of expression. principles and method of developing delivery. an introduction to the study of the natural languages, and their relation to art and development. by s. s. curry, ph.d., litt.d. $1.50; to teachers, $1.20, postpaid. your volume is to me a very wonderful book,--it is so deeply philosophic, and so exhaustive of all aspects of the subject.... no one can read your book without at least gaining a high ideal of the study of expression. you have laid a deep and strong foundation for a scientific system. and now we wait for the superstructure.--professor alexander melville bell. it is a most valuable book, and ought to be instrumental in doing much good.--professor j. w. churchill, d.d. a book of rare significance and value, not only to teachers of the vocal arts, but also to all students of fundamental pedagogical principle. in its field i know of no work presenting in an equally happy combination philosophic insight, scientific breadth, moral loftiness of tone, and literary felicity of exposition.--william f. warren, d.d., ll.d., of boston university. lessons in vocal expression. the expressive modulations of the voice developed by studying and training the voice and mind in relation to each other. eighty-six definite problems and progressive steps. by s. s. curry, ph.d., litt.d. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. it ought to do away with the artificial and mechanical styles of teaching.--henry w. smith, a.m., professor of elocution, princeton university. through the use of your text-book on vocal expression, i have had the past term much better results and more manifest interest on the subject than ever before.--a. h. merrill, a.m., late professor of elocution, vanderbilt university. the subject is handled in a new and original manner, and cannot fail to revolutionize the old elocutionary ideas.--mail and empire, toronto. it is capital, good sense, and real instruction.--w. e. huntington, ll.d., ex-president of boston university. imagination and dramatic instinct. function of the imagination and assimilation in the vocal interpretation of literature and speaking. by s. s. curry, litt.d. $1.50; to teachers, $1.20, postpaid. dr. curry well calls the attention of speakers to the processes of thinking in the modulation of the voice. every one will be benefited by reading his volumes.... too much stress can hardly be laid on the author's ground principle, that where a method aims to regulate the modulation of the voice by rules, then inconsistencies and lack of organic coherence begin to take the place of that sense of life which lies at the heart of every true product of art. on the contrary, where vocal expression is studied as a manifestation of the processes of thinking, there results the truer energy of the student's powers and the more natural unity of the complex elements of his expression.--dr. lyman abbott, in the outlook. address: book dept., school of expression, 306 pierce bldg., copley square, boston, mass. mind and voice. principles underlying all phases of vocal training. the psychological and physiological conditions of tone production and scientific and artistic methods of developing them. a work of vital importance to every one interested in improving the qualities of the voice and in correcting slovenly speech. 456 pages. by s. s. curry, litt. d. $1.50, postpaid. to teachers, $1.25, postpaid. it is indeed a masterly and stimulating work.--amos r. wells, editor christian world. it is a book that will be of immense help to teachers and preachers, and to others who are using their vocal organs continuously. as an educational work on an important theme, the book has a unique value.--book news monthly. there is pleasure and profit in reading what he says.--evening post (chicago). fills a real need in the heart and library of every true teacher and student of the development of natural vocal expression.--western recorder (louisville). get it and study it and you will never regret it.--christian union herald (pittsburg). foundation of expression. fundamentals of a psychological method of training voice, body, and mind and of teaching speaking and reading. 236 problems; 411 choice passages. a thorough and practical text-book for school and college, and for private study. by s. s. curry, litt. d. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. it means the opening of a new door to me by the master of the garden.--frank putnam. mastery of the subject and wealth of illustration are manifest in all your treatment of the subject. should prove a treasure to any man who cares for effective public speaking.--professor l. o. brastow, yale. adds materially to the author's former contributions to this science and art, to which he is devoting his life most zealously.--journal of education. may be read with profit by all who love literature.--denis a. mccarthy, sacred heart review. it gets at the heart of the subject and is the most practical and clearest book on the important steps in expression that i have ever read.--edith w. moses. how splendid it is; it is at once practical in its simplicity and helpfulness and inspiring. every teacher ought to be grateful for it.--jane herendeen, teacher of expression in jamaica normal school, n. y. best, most complete, and up-to-date.--alfred jenkins shriver, ll.b., baltimore. public speakers and especially the young men and women in high schools, academies, and colleges will find here one of the most helpful and suggestive books by one of the greatest living teachers of the subject, that was ever presented to the public.--john marshall barker, ph.d., professor in boston university. address: book dept., school of expression, 306 pierce bldg., copley square, boston, mass. browning and the dramatic monologue. nature and peculiarities of browning's poetry. how to understand browning. the principles involved in rendering the monologue. an introduction to browning, and to dramatic platform art. by s. s. curry, litt. d., $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. it seems to me to attack the central difficulty in understanding and reading robert browning's poetry.... it opens a wide door to the greatest poetry of the modern age.--the rev. john r. gow, president of the boston browning society. a book which sheds an entirely new light on browning and should be read by every student of the great master; indeed, everyone who would be well informed should read this book, which will interest any lover of literature.--journal of education. spoken english. a method of co-ordinating impression and expression in reading, conversation, and speaking. it contains suggestions on the importance of observation and adequate impression, and nature study, as a basis to adequate expression. the steps are carefully arranged for the awakening of the imagination and dramatic instinct, right feeling, and natural, spontaneous expression. 320 pages. by s. s. curry, litt. d., ph.d. price, $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. every page had something that caught my attention. you certainly have grasped the great principle of vocal expression.--edwin markham. those who aim at excelling in public utterance and address may well possess themselves of this work.--journal of education. the specialist in reading will wish to add it to his book-shelf for permanent reference.--normal instructor. a masterly presentation of ideas and expression as applied in a wide range of excellent selections.--the world's chronicle. little classics for oral english. a companion to spoken english. the problems correspond by sections with spoken english. the books may be used together or separately. the problems are arranged in the form of questions which the student can answer properly only by rightly rendering the passages. it is a laboratory method for spoken english, to be used by the first year students in high school or the last years of the grammar school. 384 pages. by s. s. curry, litt. d. price, $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. i am using little classics for oral english in two classes and believe it is the most satisfactory text that i have used. the students seem to be able to get easily the principles from your questions and problems.--elva m. forncrook, st. nor. sch., kalamazoo, mich. a fine collection of fine things especially suited to young people. every teacher of reading and english in our secondary schools ought to have the book.--prof. lee emerson bassett, leland stanford university, cal. address: book dept., school of expression, 306 pierce bldg., copley square, boston, mass. * * * * * what students and graduates think of the school of expression "we know that there is something big here. if only we can get it out to the world."--caroline a. hardwick (philosophic diploma), instructor in reading and speaking, wellesley college. "at no other institution is it possible to secure the training one secures at the school of expression. it is far broader than a mere training for speaking. it is a fundamental training for life."--florence e. lutz (philosophic diploma), instructor in pantomime, new york city. "the school of expression taught me how to live. i think its training of the personality is its greatest work."--f. m. sargent (dramatic artist's diploma). "i feel deeply indebted to the school for some of the best and most lasting inspiration i have received for my own work as a teacher of my fellow-men."--luella clay carson, pres. of mills college. "the success i have attained in my profession as a reader, i owe directly to the advanced methods of the school of expression."--caroline foye flanders (artistic diploma), public reader, manchester, n. h. "the school of expression of boston is the most thorough and best in the country. it is different from all other schools. i wish i could talk to any who intend taking a course of study.--i would say, go to the school of expression and if there is anything in you, they will bring it out; they will teach you to know yourself; they will show you what you are in comparison with what you may become, and they will begin with the cause and start from the bottom."--hamilton colman, member richard mansfield co. "when i was your student you held before me intellectual and ethical ideals which i am still trying to realize."--charles l. white, d.d., ex-president colby college. "the same principles of education which have installed manual training in public schools are even more applicable to the training of men's souls to rational self-expression. dr. curry will some day be recognized to have been an educational philosopher for having championed principles no less true of the spoken word than of every form of creative self-expression."--dean shailer mathews, university of chicago. "the whole world ought to learn about the school of expression and your discoveries."--rev. j. stanley durkee (speaker's diploma), boston. * * * * * books by s. s. curry, ph.d., litt.d. more than any man of recent years, dr. curry has represented sane and scientific methods in training the speaking voice.--dr. shailer mathews, university of chicago. of eminent value.--dr. lyman abbott. books so much needed by the world and which will not be written unless you write them.--rev. c. h. strong, rector st. john's church, savannah. foundations of expression. a psychological method of developing reading and speaking. 236 practical problems. 411 choice passages adapted to classes in reading and speaking. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. lessons in vocal expression. the expressive modulations of the voice developed by studying and training the voice and mind in relation to each other. definite problems and progressive steps. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. imagination and dramatic instinct. function of imagination and assimilation in the vocal interpretation of literature and speaking. $1.50; to teachers, $1.20, postpaid. mind and voice. principles and methods in vocal training. 456 pp. $1.50; to teachers, $1.20 postpaid. browning and the dramatic monologue. nature and peculiarities of browning's poetry. principles involved in rendering the monologue. introduction to browning, and to dramatic platform art. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. province of expression. principles and methods of developing delivery. an introduction to the study of natural languages, and their relation to art and development. $1.50; to teachers $1.20, postpaid. vocal and literary interpretation of the bible. introduction by prof. francis g. peabody, d. d., of harvard university. $1.50; students' edition, $0.60, postpaid. classics for vocal expression. gems from the best authors for voice and interpretation. in use in the foremost schools and colleges. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. spoken english. a psychological method of developing reading, conversation and speaking. a book for junior students or teachers. 320 pages. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. little classics for oral english. companion to spoken english. introductory questions and topics. may be used with spoken english or separately. questions and topics correspond. fresh and beautiful selections from best authors. 384 pages. $1.25; to teachers, $1.10, postpaid. the smile. introduction to action through an example. $1.00. to members of the morning league, $0.75, postpaid. how to add ten years to your life. nature of training with short, practical program. $1.00. to members of the morning league, $0.75, postpaid. write to dr. curry about the morning league; summer terms; home studies; school of expression; new books, or for advice regarding your life work. address: book department, school of expression, 308 pierce bldg., copley square, boston, mass. vitality supreme by bernarr macfadden preface the war cry of to-day in peace no less than in war is for efficiency. we need stronger, more capable men; healthier, superior women. force is supreme-the king of all mankind. and it is force that stands back of efficiency, for efficiency, first of all, means power. it comes from power, and power either comes directly from inheritance or it is developed by an intelligent application of the laws that control the culture of the physique. the value of efficiency is everywhere recognized. the great prizes of life come only to those who are efficient. those who desire capacities of this sort must recognize the importance of a strong, enduring physique. the body must be developed completely, splendidly. the buoyancy, vivacity, energy, enthusiasm and ambition ordinarily associated with youth can be maintained through middle age and in some cases even to old age. if your efforts are to be crowned with the halo of success, they must be spurred on by the pulsating throbbing powers that accompany physical excellence. these truly extraordinary characteristics come without effort to but few of us, but they can be developed, attained and maintained. why not throb with superior vitality! why not possess the physical energy of a young lion? for then you will compel success. you will stand like a wall if need be, or rush with the force of a charging bison towards the desired achievements. this book sends forth a message of paramount importance to those who need added efficiency. adherence to the principles laid down herein will add to the characteristics that insure splendid achievements. they will increase the power of your body and mind and soul. they will help each human entity to become a live personality. they will enable you to live fully, joyously. they will help you to feel, enjoy, suffer, every moment of each day. it is only when you are thus thrilled with the eternal force of life that you reach the highest pinnacle of attainable capacities and powers. hidden forces, sometimes marvelous and mysterious, lie within nearly every human soul. develop, expand and bring out these latent powers. make your body splendid, your mind supreme; for then you become your real self, you possess all your attainable powers. and men thus developed possess a capital that can not be financially measured. it is worth infinitely more than money. within the pages of this volume the pathway leading to these gratifying rewards is clearly described. adhere to the principles set forth and a munificent harvest of physical, mental and spiritual attainments will surely be yours. --bernarr macfadden contents preface i. vitality--what is it? ii. functional activity-the secret of power iii. the proper bodily posture iv. stimulating the source of stamina and vitality v. straightening and strengthening the spine vi. cleansing and stimulating the alimentary canal vii. exercise for vitality building viii. how to breathe ix. outdoor life x. strengthening the stomach xi. preserving the teeth xii. how to eat xiii. what to eat xiv. foods in the cure of constipation xv. pressure movements for building inner strength xvi. blood purification xvii. hints on bathing xviii. some facts about clothing xix. suggestions about sleep xx. mind--the master-force for health or disease xxi. the laugh cure xxii. singing-the great tonic xxiii. the daily regimen chapter i: vitality--what is it? vitality first of all means endurance and the ability to live long. it naturally indicates functional and organic vigor. you cannot be vital unless the organs of the body are possessed of at least a normal degree of strength and are performing their functions harmoniously and satisfactorily. to be vital means that you are full of vim and energy, that you possess that enviable characteristic known as vivacity. it means that you are vibrating, pulsating with life in all its most attractive forms. for life, energy, vitality-call it what you wish-in all its normal manifestations, will always be found attractive. a vital man is at all times thoroughly alive. the forces of life seem to imbue every part of his organism with energy, activity and all characteristics opposed to things inanimate. a vital man is naturally enthusiastic. he can hardly avoid being ambitious. and consequently success, with all its splendid rewards, comes to such a man in abundance. life to such a man should be resplendent with worthy achievements. no one belittles the importance of success. everyone is guided to a large extent by the desire to succeed. when a child toddles off to school the training which he secures there is given for the single purpose of bringing success, but this goal cannot possibly be reached without throbbing vitality. in fact, you are not yourself in every sense unless you possess vitality of this sort. the emotions and instincts that come to one when thoroughly developed, with the vital forces surging within, are decidedly different from those which influence one when lacking in stamina. many who have grown beyond adult age are still undeveloped, so far as physical condition and vigor is concerned, and this lack of physical development or vitality means immaturity-incompleteness. it means that one is short on manhood or womanhood. this statement, that one's personality, under such circumstances, is not completely brought out, may seem strange to some; but careful reasoning will soon verify its accuracy. success of the right sort, therefore, depends first of all upon intelligent efforts that are guided day after day, with a view, first of all, of developing the physical organism to the highest possible standard, and maintaining it there. in other words, it is our first duty to be men, strong and splendid, or women, healthy and perfect, if we are desirous of securing life's most gratifying prizes. many actually go through life only half alive. they are, to a certain extent, doped by their physical deficiencies. they have been handicapped by a lack of the energy that comes with physical development. they need to be stirred by the regular use of the physical powers of the body. when the body is complete in all of its various parts it is truly a marvelous organism. throbbing vitality stirs the imagination, gives one courage and capacity, thrills one with the possibilities of life, fires the ambitions. the efforts involved in one's daily duties, be they ever so important, then become mere play. to such a man inactivity is impossible. every day must be filled with active, interesting duties, and progress in such cases is inevitable. such a man grows, he improves, he ascends. he becomes a positive dominating force in the world. can pulsating, vibrating, vitality of this kind be developed? can one who lacks enthusiasm and organic vigor obtain these valuable forces? if you have failed up to the present to become a complete man, or a splendid woman, can you achieve these extraordinary rewards in the future? you can rest assured that if the necessary efforts are made a revolution can be wrought in your physical and mental powers. you, too, can feel these throbbing vital forces stirring your every nerve, thrilling your very soul. go to work, in an intelligent manner, realizing that fundamentally the attainment of these great rewards comes from the development of the highest degree of physical excellence. you must have strength of body. you cannot have too much strength. the more nearly you feel like a strong man the more you can achieve in the desired direction. all successful men are, and have been, men of tremendous energy. their achievements have been simply the expression of the vitality and nerve force which can no more be repressed than the power of an engine when it has been once liberated. success is due to the dynamic quality of energy. it is true that physical energy and bodily strength are not sufficient for success in all fields. one must have aptitude for his chosen work. your energy must be directed in the proper channels, but without this energy and vitality you can accomplish virtually nothing. take the one particular characteristic known as vivacity. how we envy those who possess in abundance this great gift! no matter how irregular one's features may be, even though they repel, if a smile shows vivacity associated with a keen, intelligent personality, one cannot be otherwise than attractive. john bunny, with features rough, unchiseled, ugly, almost uncouth, yet possessed a personality that spread its contagious good humor to millions of people in all quarters of the world who mourned his recent death as that of a personal acquaintance. on the other hand, even though a man or woman possess regular features, the lack of animated expression, of vivacity, causes the person to be regarded as "cold" and "repellent." speaking in the vernacular, it puts you in the class of the "dead ones." one may say that magnetism and all the desirable qualities that draw others to us are closely associated with the supreme development of the forces of life. no vivacity, then no personality. the average individual goes through life without living. in other words, he scarcely exists. he has never felt the throbbing exultation of a keen joyous moment. nor on the other hand has he ever suffered the tortures that are supposed to be associated with the damned, for we must remember that the power to enjoy carries with it a corresponding power to suffer. but we should also remember that the possession of these extremes, the ability to enjoy or to suffer, indicates the attainment of what might be termed the most complete human development. if we wish to find a perfect picture of the phlegmatic temperament, we can study a pig to advantage. and yet there are many human beings incapable of manifesting life-forces equal to those of this humble animal. but why not be alive, vital, vivacious? why not be alert, keen, energetic, enthusiastic, ambitious, bubbling over with fiery ardor? the possession of these pulsating, vibratory forces proves that one's physical development has closely approached to perfection. to such vital individuals life opens up opportunities that are almost countless. but those who have never lived in this "world" of fiery ambitions and throbbing powers, who have never been stirred by the keen, satisfying joys that go with these extraordinary, vital qualities, may ask if these invaluable powers can be developed. are these stirring, vital forces the possession of favored classes only, or may they be obtained by anyone and everyone? in other words, can they be cultivated or developed? my reply, in nearly all cases, would be in the affirmative. there may be exceptions. there is a limit to the development of the physical force, but health is attainable by the majority. so long as there is life you should be possessed of sufficient vitality to attain a normal degree of health. it really takes more power to run a defective machine than it does to operate one in which all parts are working in harmony, and the same can be said of the body and its parts or organs. therefore, if you have vitality enough to continue to live even though diseased, rest assured that you have enough to acquire health if you conform to nature's enactments. and this kind of health usually brings a physical and mental exaltation that is truly beyond description. it is my purpose in these pages to help the reader to solve the problems associated with the attainment of vitality and health at its best. by following out the suggestions which you will find in this volume, by stimulating the life-forces in connection with the thyroid gland, by straightening and strengthening the spine, by toning up the alimentary canal, and by adopting other suggestions set forth in these pages, you should be insured the attainment of vital vigor really beyond price. do not be satisfied with an existence. if life is worth anything, it is worth living in every sense of the word. the building up of one's physical assets should be recognized as an imperative duty. chapter ii: functional activity-the secret of power vitality means normal functioning. when the organs of the body are all performing their duties satisfactorily, you can practically be sure of a plentiful supply of vitality. so it can truly be said that proper functioning is the secret of power. the most important of all functional processes begins in the stomach. there is where the blood-making process commences, and, since a man is what the blood makes of him, you can realize the tremendous importance of this particular function. if the digestion is carried on properly, and the blood is made rich in those elements that add to life, health and strength, then the functions of the stomach are being properly performed. strength of this organ, therefore, is absolutely indispensable in vitality building. this blood-making work is then continued by the small intestines, where a large part of the elements of nourishment essential to life are assimilated, taken up and carried to the portal circulation, thence to the lungs and heart, and finally throughout the entire body. it is absolutely impossible for one to enjoy the possession of a high degree of vitality, or of the general good health upon which vitality depends, unless the intestinal tract is in a healthy and vigorous condition, so that the functions of this particular part of the bodymachine may be performed without a flaw. the entire digestive system may be compared to a boiler supplying the energy by which the engine does its work. then consider the heart itself. one cannot underestimate the functional importance of this organ. it is commonly regarded as the most vital spot in the body, the very center of life-indeed the poets have made it the seat of love and the emotions in general. if anything, the brain and nervous system should be regarded as the real center of life, but the function of the heart, the marvelous muscle-pump, is so vital and indispensable that the world is accustomed to thinking of it as the organ of first importance. and so it is. should it cease its efforts for a few moments even, life becomes extinct, and you are no longer an animate being. a strong heart, therefore, is if anything even more important than a strong stomach. but you must remember that the strength of the heart to a large extent depends upon the cooperation of a strong stomach, or at least upon the proper digestion of food. for the muscles and tissues of the heart, like those of all other organs of the body, are fed by the blood, which depends for its life-giving and lifesustaining qualities upon the food, which is first acted upon by the stomach and thus made available for use by the cell structures in all parts of the body. the heart is truly a wonderful organ, the one set of muscles which apparently never rest, but work on night and day, year after year, throughout our entire life. furthermore, the part played by the lungs in the maintenance of life and health cannot be underestimated. impaired functioning of the lungs has an immediate and vital effect upon every other part of the body. it is through this channel that we secure the oxygen, without which the processes of life would terminate almost instantaneously. it is through this channel also that the elimination of carbonic acid gas is accomplished. without the continuous and thorough elimination of carbonic acid our tissues would become choked up and poisoned in such a way that all cell activity and bodily function would come to an abrupt end. if the lungs are sound and healthy in every respect the supply of oxygen is abundant, and the elimination of carbonic acid, which may be regarded as the "smoke" of the human system, is carried on perfectly. breathing is only one of the various functions that must be continuously carried on, but it is of such importance as to require special attention in building vitality. in the work of eliminating impurities and keeping the system clean the kidneys are to be classed with the lungs, although they have to do with poisonous wastes of a different type. insufficient functioning of the kidneys is not so immediately fatal as the failure of the lungs to do their work, but proper action of the kidneys is none the less important. if the poisons which are normally eradicated from the system in this way are allowed to remain or to accumulate, they poison the body as truly as any external toxic element that could be introduced. insufficient activity of the kidneys leads to the accumulation of those poisons, bringing on convulsions of the most serious nature, and unless the condition is relieved there will be fatal results. the requirements of health, therefore, demand that the kidneys should be strong and active, and that their functional capacity should be maintained at the highest degree of efficiency. in supplementing the work of the kidneys and the lungs, the excretory function of the skin is only secondary in importance. the skin has various functions. it is one of our chief organs of sense, the sense of touch being hardly second to those of sight and hearing. it is likewise a wonderful protective structure, and at the same time is a channel of elimination which cannot be ignored with impunity. to interfere with the eliminative function of the skin by absolutely clogging the pores for a period of several hours means death. one may say that we really breathe through the skin. the importance of all these functions of elimination is vital. pure blood depends upon the perfect and continuous excretion of the wastes formed in the body through the processes of life, and without keeping the blood pure in this manner the body rapidly becomes poisoned by its own waste products, with the result that health, vitality and even life are lost. health is entirely a question of pure blood, and, while the blood depends first upon the building material supplied through the digestive system, it also depends equally as much upon functional activity in the matter of elimination. the liver, which enjoys the distinction of being the largest organ in the body, is designed for the performance of a multiplicity of functions. it not only produces the bile, which has such an important part to play in the work of digestion, but it has a very important work in the changing of foods absorbed into such material as may be assimilated or used by the cells of the various tissues throughout the body. for instance, it is part of the function of the liver to bring about chemical changes in albuminous foods which make it possible for the tissues to assimilate these. it also has much to do with bringing about certain chemical changes in sugar or dextrose. furthermore, the liver has an important function in connection with the excretion of broken-down bodily tissue, converting this dead matter into a form in which it can be filtered out of the blood by the kidneys. failure of the liver to perform its work satisfactorily will upset the digestive and functional system, or may lead to an accumulation of uric acid in the body, possibly resulting in rheumatism, gout, neuralgia, disturbances of circulation and other evils. when your liver "goes on strike" you may expect trouble in general. a normal condition of the entire body depends upon perfect and continuous functioning of the liver in cooperation with all the other vital organs. the same may be said of the pancreas, spleen, the thyroid gland and other organs which have a special function to perform. the body is really a combination of all these various parts and functions, and without strength and activity in all of them, simultaneous and harmonious, not one of these interdependent parts could do its work, and the body as a whole would be thrown into a state of disease. strength of the internal organs is infinitely more important than mere muscular strength, if one could properly make a comparison. how, therefore, shall we build this internal, functional strength? can our organs be made to function more satisfactorily? how may we promote their greater activity? it will be the purpose of the succeeding chapters in this volume to point out how the vital organs may be strengthened and the sum total of one's vitality thereby increased. it is true that internal strength is more important than external muscular strength, but the fact is that they go together. as a general thing, by building muscular strength one is able at the same time to develop internal strength. the influence of exercise in purifying the blood and in promoting activity in all the internal organs really strengthens the "department of the interior" at the same time that it develops the muscles concerned. muscular stagnation means organic stagnation, to a very large degree. to be thoroughly alive and to enjoy the possession of unlimited vitality it is necessary to be both muscularly and functionally active. the requirements of nature, or what are more commonly termed the "laws of nature," in reference to all these bodily functions must be strictly observed, for it is only under such conditions that life and health can be maintained at their best. the body may be regarded as a machine. why not make it a strong machine, and as perfect as possible? its efficiency means everything. if you had an engine, a motorcycle, a sewing machine or a printing press that was a very poor machine, you would like to exchange it for a better one, would you not? you would even spend large sums of money to secure a better machine to take the place of the poor one. but if your body is imperfect, inefficient, weak, rusty and clogged up with grit, dirt and all the waste products due to the "wear" in the bodily structures, you seem nevertheless entirely satisfied. you go on from day to day and from year to year without thinking of the possibility of getting a better physical equipment. but why not consider the body in the same light as any other machine that is of value to you. your body is the thing that keeps you alive. if it is a poor instrument, then it is more important that you should get a better one than that you should buy a new engine or new printing-press or new sewing-machine. the only difference is, that it is within your power to get a better body machine by building up the one that you have. you can repair it, you can add to its vitality, you can strengthen the functional system, you can make it more perfect and efficient. you can make it a high-power machine that will be of real value in any undertaking that you may wish to carry out. you can make it strong instead of weak, and you can thus enjoy that superabundant vitality without which life is hardly worth the living. chapter iii: the proper bodily posture the very great value of maintaining the body in a proper position cannot be too strongly emphasized. man is the only animal that walks erect. he is the only animal in whom old age brings a forward bending of the spine. the hanging head, which is the attitude of hopelessness, and which is caused to a very large extent by the mental attitude that goes with approaching old age, no doubt does a great deal to quicken physical decline. therefore it would be wise to remember the very grave importance of a straight, erect spine. each day of your life should be to a certain extent a fight for the best that there is in life and a struggle to hold the spine as nearly erect as possible. if you are sitting in a chair, sit up straight, head back, chin in. if you are walking or standing, the same rule should apply. the more nearly you can assume the position which is sometimes criticized by the sarcastic statement that "he looks as though he had swallowed a poker," the more nearly you will approximate the ideal position. as will be shown in the succeeding chapter, it is not necessary to make extraordinary efforts to hold the shoulders back or to arch the chest. the one idea-chin in, down and backward-will accomplish all that is needed. the chest and shoulders will naturally take care of themselves. furthermore, it is well to remember that this attitude in itself has a tremendous influence upon both the physical and mental organism. the mind, for instance, is affected to an extraordinary degree by this position. it quickens the reasoning capacity, helps to clear the brain of "cobwebs" and unquestionably adds to one's courage. the man who is afraid hangs his head. he who is void of fear holds his head erect, "looks the world in the face!" there is no question that if a man without fear were to assume the position of fear, with hanging head and shrinking body, he would quickly find himself stirred by the emotions associated with such a posture. he would soon "get scared!" in fact, the attitude of the body has so much to do with one's mental and emotional state that the question of self-confidence or lack of confidence may often be decided simply by throwing your head up and back and assuming the general bodily posture that goes with confidence. it not only expresses confidence: it also develops confidence. there is a great truth here that psychologists and those who write "character building" books have not sufficiently understood or emphasized. and when you feel discouraged, the best way to overcome the sense of depression is to "brace up" physically. it will help you to "brace up" mentally. try it. then there are the definite physiological results of maintaining an erect spine. the mechanical arrangement of the spine itself is such that if it is held erect the important nerves that radiate to all parts of the body from this central "bureau" are able more perfectly to perform their functions. where there is pressure on these nerves there is bound to be imperfect functioning. the affected organ will work lazily, indifferently. in fact, the entire science of the osteopaths and chiropractors is based almost wholly upon the value of spinal stimulation and the remedying of spinal defects. there is another way in which an erect carriage has a direct physical influence, namely, in maintaining the proper position of the vital organs. when the body is held erect the chest is full, round and somewhat expanded, affording plenty of room for the heart and lungs. this, in itself, is conducive to vitality as compared with the flatchested attitude. the stomach, liver, spleen, pancreas and intestines all tend to drop or sag below their normal position when the body bends forward. in maintaining an erect position all these organs are drawn upward and held in their natural position, and this means greater vigor and better functioning on the part of each. this particular consideration is of special importance in the case of women. it all goes to show the truly wonderful value of maintaining the spine in a properly erect attitude. the sitting position usually assumed is far from what it should be in order to insure health. as a rule, we sit humped forward, with a decided bend in the spine, ultimately developing splendid examples of what we call round shoulders. the spine, while sitting, should be held as nearly straight as possible. the position of the head, to a very large extent, determines the general posture of the body. as nearly as possible the chin should be held inward, downward and backward. i will admit that this position is almost impossible when one is using the ordinary type of chair. an extraordinary effort is required to sit properly in the conventional chair. furniture of this sort should be made to fit the body in the same way as our clothing does. the back of a chair should be made to fit the backs of those who are to occupy the chair. the chair-back should, at least to a reasonable extent, approximate the normal shape of the spine. if the chair, throughout its entire back, cannot be thus shaped, then it should be cut off even with the waist line of the occupant. such a low-back chair will usually allow one to sit erect without serious discomfort. there has been much criticism of american men on the ground that they are inclined to sit down on the small of the back. they slide forward in the chair, with the back bent over and the shoulders humped forward. but the fault really lies with the construction of the chair. the back of a chair does not fit the human back, and the seat is not at the right angle to rest the body. why is it that men commonly like to tilt a chair backward on the hind legs? even when they do not place their feet on a convenient table they are prone to tip the chair back and partly balance it on the hind legs. why do people instinctively prefer a rocking chair as a source of comfort, even when they do not rock? the fact is that it is not the rocking that makes a rocking chair comfortable, but the position of the seat of the chair, with its downward slope toward the back. the rocking chair is comfortable for just the same reason that the ordinary dining chair is made more comfortable when a man tilts it back upon its hind legs. the reason is that in this position one does not tend to slide forward off the chair, the weight of the body naturally carrying the hips to the back of the chair, where it is supported naturally. in order to avoid the "sliding down the cellar door" character of the conventional chair a change should be made in the incline of the seat similar to that found in the ordinary rocking chair and in the chair when tipped back in the manner i have described. the photograph which has been reproduced on the preceding page illustrates the point i wish to make. in this particular instance i have used an ordinary chair to show what can be done to improve the chairs in the ordinary home. both of the back legs of this chair were sawed off some three or four inches-thus elevating the front part of the chair and lowering the back part, giving the seat an incline toward the rear which more comfortably accommodates the body. this position approximates that of the ordinary swivel desk chair tilted back by business men when they are not leaning forward over their desks. this suggestion can be adopted very easily and cheaply in almost any home, for any ordinary chair treated in this manner will be very greatly improved, and far greater comfort will be experienced as a result of the change. civilized men and women spend such a very large part of the time in a sitting position that the bodily posture when sitting down is a very great factor in the bodily welfare and health. special thought and study, therefore, should be given the question of the sitting posture. unfortunately, this particular subject seems to have been ignored absolutely for hundreds of years in the making of our chairs. it is just as harmful to sit all humped over as it is to stand in such a position. the nervous system cannot be maintained at its best unless the spine is held reasonably erect. whether sitting or standing, therefore, it is important that you should make a never-ending struggle for a straight spine. if the back of the chair in which you sit is not properly made then it is better, in most cases, to ignore the back altogether. sit slightly forward from the back and maintain an erect position, with the chin held in, downward and backward. in this position you should sit well balanced, as it were. the chest should occupy the same relative position as when standing erect. if you will hold the head in the position i have indicated it will help you to keep the chest and back in the right position. as a general thing, it is a much more simple matter to maintain this erect position when sitting, if either one foot, or both feet, are drawn back under the chair. when both feet are stretched out forward upon the floor a person is inclined to sag backward in a partially reclining position upon the chair. by holding one foot underneath the chair in such a manner that you could rise to a standing position, if desired, without lurching forward, you will find it easy to maintain a well balanced and erect posture. if at any time you find yourself slumping forward or slouching in your seat, it is good to stretch your arms high above the head, or to expand the chest and draw your shoulders backward in the position commonly assumed when yawning and stretching. either of these stretching movements will give you an erect position, and you can maintain this thereafter by keeping the head in the right position-chin inward, downward and backward. these stretching movements will be equally effective for improving the carriage when standing. the same complaint that i have made against the ordinary chair can be registered with special force against the desks used in the schoolrooms. there is no question that a great deal of spinal curvature in childhood, to say nothing of round shoulders and flat chests, are directly the result of the improper sitting posture in the schools which is enforced upon the children because of the unsuitable character of their seating arrangements. thus we practically begin life hampered by an unsatisfactory environment, so far as our sitting posture is concerned. the chair back or the desk chair should fit the human back. it. should favor and not hamper one in assuming a normal and straight position of the spine. when you get up in the morning, exercise yourself a little in straightening the spine, chin in, downward and backward. when you walk to business or when you go about your duties, keep the same thought in mind. force the head back. take the exercises which you will find in the next chapter, referring to the thyroid gland, at very frequent intervals during the day. remember that in fighting for a straight spine you are fighting for youth and health and life and energy and courage and enthusiasm. you are fighting for everything that is best in life, and you should strive and struggle with all the energy you possess to win the rewards associated therewith. each day of your life will bring difficulties, worries. life at its best is not a bed of roses. all these various influences are inclined to make you hang your head. you may have moments when you are hopeless, when life seems forbidding and cheerless. fight against such inclinations with all the power you possess. struggle against such discouragements with all your might and main, not only through your mental attitude but through your determination to maintain an erect spine. hold your head up and look the world in the face. don't shirk your duty. don't deviate from the path along which your best impulses and highest ideals would lead you. life is worth while. it is filled with glorious opportunities. reach out and grasp them as they come up. hold your head up and be a man or a woman to the fullest extent of your abilities. chapter iv: stimulating the source of stamina and vitality this is an age of short cuts. any devious routes to the accomplishment of an object should be avoided. if you want vitality, and the vivacity, energy and enthusiasm with which it is associated, you naturally search for a method which will bring certain and quick improvements. the reasonableness and general prevalence of this demand was in my mind when i began experimentation with a view to discovering a method for stimulating what i term the source of vital power. scientific men while delving into the marvelous secrets of physiology, have learned that the thyroid gland in some peculiar manner possesses an extraordinary influence upon vital stamina and virility. this mysterious gland is located in front of the neck, about half way between the so-called "adam's apple" and the top of the sternum or breast-bone, where it adheres to each side of the front of the trachea, or windpipe, in a flattened form, something like the wings of a butterfly, with a connecting "isthmus." it is a "ductless" gland, its secretions apparently being taken up by absorption into the lymph, and from that into the blood. while the functions of this little organ are not yet very clearly understood, there is nothing more definitely known than its tremendous importance in the bodily economy. without it there can be no such thing as healthy development. thyroid deficiency in children gives rise to a form of idiocy, bodily malformation and degeneracy known as cretinism, while in adult life it is associated with a similar disorder known as myxedema. goiter is the most common disorder of the thyroid gland; though not very serious in minor cases, it is capable of becoming very dangerous, assuming such malignant forms as exophthalmic goiter, which is marked by palpitation of the heart, nervous symptoms and protrusion of the eyes. it is thought by some authorities that the thyroid gland has to do with the control of the excretion of the waste products from nitrogenous foods, for it has been found that a meat diet or a high-proteid diet is extremely harmful in disorders of this organ. it has been found that dogs fed on meat after the thyroid gland has been removed invariably die in a few days, but that they can be kept alive for a long time if fed on a diet very low in proteids. it is found as a rule that those suffering from thyroid troubles do very well on a milk diet. some students of the subject conclude that the function of the thyroid gland is to destroy poisonous products formed by the decomposition of proteid food substances. it is believed by others that it also has a defensive action against other poisons in the body, including alcohol and poisonous drugs. in other words, it is thought to have an "antitoxic" action. it has also been held that this organ has much to do with the supply of iodine in the system, being particularly affected by the lack of iodine in the food. again, it is said that when the thyroid gland has degenerated there ensues a condition of autointoxication, followed by a degeneration of other organs which destroy and eliminate poisons in the blood. it is claimed that in many cases of thyroid deficiency, as in cretinism, good results have been obtained by the use of thyroid extract, thus supplying the body with the secretion which normally should have been obtained from this gland. but, whatever may be the function of this remarkable little organ, the fact remains that it is of tremendous importance to health, being undeniably endowed with extraordinary influence on virility, physical strength and mental vigor. now these facts were in mind when i commenced the experiments which, as i have said, led to the discovery of a method of stimulating the vital forces of the body. the problem seemed simple in some respects. if the thyroid gland has such a definite effect upon bodily health, the query as to how it can be strengthened and stimulated to perform its work more satisfactorily, assumed unusual importance and i was strongly moved to discover the answer. the problem, however, was not by any means an easy one. a long time elapsed before a satisfactory solution presented itself. the first thought that naturally occurs to one when endeavoring to stimulate the activities of any part of the body is to find some means of increasing the circulation to that part. ordinary massage will usually accomplish this purpose to a limited degree, though massage to my mind is a superficial agent in many cases. it will increase local circulation, but it does not facilitate tissue changes to the same extent as exercise which directly affects the structures concerned, or the mechanical movements of the parts themselves that are brought about through active use of them in some way. i have known of cases in which pressure and massage applied to the region of the thyroid gland have been followed by harmful effects, such as fainting, and certainly no one with a weak heart should attempt to stimulate this organ in this manner. therefore, in endeavoring to find a satisfactory means of stimulating this important gland, i did not give massage serious thought. and i might as well say that i finally "stumbled" upon the important truth which is the basis of the method that i am presenting. for many years i have been a student of vocal culture, having taken up the study of this art chiefly as a recreation, with no thought of ever publicly using any ability i might acquire, though i might mention that the additional vocal strength obtained as a result of this training assisted me greatly in public speaking. while giving my attention to this particular study, i was greatly impressed by the extreme importance of maintaining an erect spine, holding the chin down, inward and backward, and keeping the shoulders back and the chest expanded. i found, however, like many others who become "slack" in bodily posture, that a considerable effort was required to maintain a proper position at all times. i therefore began a series of special exercises intended really to force myself to assume a properly erect position. while experimenting with these exercises for the purpose mentioned, i noted a marked effect upon my general vital vigor. not only was this made apparent by an increase in physical strength and stamina, but it was marked in an equal degree by additional mental energy and capacity. my mind was clearer, and i could surmount difficulties presented in business enterprises in which i was interested with far more ease than before. i could make decisions more easily and quickly. in addition, a decided gain in weight was noted-not by any means in the form of mere fatty tissue, but of firm, substantial flesh. these very pleasing results induced me to go more carefully into the causes underlying this remarkable improvement. i carried on an elaborate series of careful experiments with a view to proving the conclusions to which i had come in the course of these exercises. it was quite apparent that a full development of the back part of the upper spine was necessary in order to maintain the strength essential to extreme vigor and vitality. and it became quite plain to me that this development could not be achieved without stimulating to an unusual degree the thyroid gland. reasoning along this line, i called to mind the appearance of various animals noted for their great strength and there i found my conclusions verified with remarkable emphasis. the arched neck of the stallion, the huge development of the back of the neck of the domestic bull, the same character in even more pronounced form in the case of the bull buffalo and the musk-ox, and in varying degrees in other animals conspicuous for their vitality and energy-all this seemed to indicate that i was on the verge of a remarkable discovery. when you think of a fiery steed, in every instance you bring to mind the arched appearance of the neck. the tight reins that are sometimes used to give a horse a pleasing appearance, are based upon the same ideal, showing a more or less subconscious recognition of the idea that this particular development is associated with tremendous animal vigor. after giving consideration to various methods that could be used for the purpose of stimulating this little organ, the thyroid gland, i finally concluded as the result of prolonged experimentation that the exercises illustrated in this chapter can most thoroughly be depended upon for producing results. all movements here described have proved effective in imparting to the neck a full, arched, well developed appearance, but i have given especial attention to the active use of the muscles on the back of the neck. nearly every movement which to a certain extent develops these muscles is inclined to stimulate the thyroid gland. the more special movements for this purpose are indicated in the various illustrations accompanying this chapter. this development of the back of the neck always indicates great vitality, because definite proof is thereby given that the spine is unusually strong and is maintained in a position favorable to the functioning of all the organs of the body. many of the movements illustrated are but slight in character, but they are the more adaptable because of this. no matter where you may be, whether walking along the street, conversing with a friend, or sitting at a desk, they can be practiced quietly without attracting attention. furthermore, it is absolutely essential that an erect position of the spine be kept in mind continually. you should begin every morning to hold the spine straight and erect, and each day should represent an increment of success in the struggle finally to maintain involuntarily this position of the body. on arising in the morning, practice some of the exercises illustrated in this chapter for stimulating the thyroid gland, being careful to perform them just as instructed in each illustration. whenever you are unoccupied during the day, it is a good plan to practice these movements occasionally, as they will assist you materially in maintaining the spine in that erect position which i found so important at the beginning of my vocal studies. the most important movement is to bring the chin downward, inward, and backward as far as possible, endeavoring to arch as much as you can the back of the neck. you may have to practice a long while before you notice an outline that will in any way resemble an arch in the back of your neck, but all this work you can be assured will be of decided benefit to you. and, whether or not you attain the desired arch, you can be assured of benefits that will be worth all your efforts. when you make these movements properly, there is no necessity for trying to bring the chest out or the shoulders far back. the simple movements of the neck alone as described, if properly performed, will fulfill all requirements. for these movements tend mechanically to raise and arch the chest and to throw the shoulders far backward. remember also the necessity, when taking these movements, of keeping the abdominal region expanded as fully as possible. do not draw in the waist line. the importance of this admonition cannot be too strongly emphasized. if you maintain a full abdomen, thyroid-stimulating movements seem to tone up, increase in size, and strengthen all the vital organs lying in the gastric region. in further proof of the value of the exercises described in this work as a means of building unusual vital vigor, note the remarkable stamina and virility of men possessing an unusual development of the neck. where the neck is broad and well filled out at the back, you can depend absolutely upon the possession of great vital vigor. it is quite plain, therefore, that by merely adopting some method of developing this part of the spine you will have accomplished a great deal towards obtaining a high degree of vital stamina. some of the strongest men in the world can be found among professional wrestlers. many of those following this profession retain their athletic ability a great many years beyond the athletic life of men in other branches of sport. in fact, champion wrestlers sometimes retain their championship honors for a score of years beyond the age at which champion boxers and runners retire. it is a well known fact that wrestling requires extraordinary strength of the upper spine. some of the most strenuous wrestling holds use the muscles of the upper back and neck in a very vigorous and violent manner. consequently wrestlers are noted for what are often termed bull necks, thus plainly indicating the exceptional degree of vital vigor which they possess. accordingly it is well to remember in connection with these exercises that many movements which assist in the development of the neck muscles also serve to stimulate the activities of the thyroid gland. you cannot go through the process of training for a wrestling match without stimulating this organ to an exceptional degree. therefore, in following the suggestions which are given in this chapter, you are securing the full benefit of a vitality-stimulating process that ordinarily can be obtained only by going through a prolonged course of wrestling. there is no necessity for you to develop a "bull neck," but you should make the most strenuous efforts to acquire a sufficient development of the back of the neck to give it an arched appearance. the more nearly you can approximate a development of this character, the more vital will you become. and along with this superior power will come a similar improvement in every other capacity, mental as well as physical. that there may be no mistake, let me reiterate: that the spine must be held erect at all times when sitting or standing. that frequently during the day when sitting or standing the chin should be brought down and in with a backward movement, the head being turned at times far either to the right or left side, with a vigorous twist of the strongly tensed muscles. that on every occasion when this movement is made, the abdomen must be fully expanded-not held in or drawn upward. that great emphasis must be given to the importance of bringing the chin slowly but vigorously downward against the chest before the inward and backward movement is begun. this insures a proper stimulation of the thyroid gland. chapter v: stimulating, straightening and strengthening the spine the human spine bears the same relation to the body as a whole as the trunk of a tree does to the rest of the tree. if the trunk is strong the entire tree is sturdy and vigorous. if the spine is strong the body as a whole possesses a similar degree of strength. therefore, the necessity for a strong spine is readily apparent. this strength is necessary not only because the spine is what may be termed the foundation for our entire physical structure but also because therein are located the nerves that radiate to each organ and every minute part of the body. these spinal nerves control the functional processes of all our bodily tissues and structures. if the spine possesses a proper degree of strength, if the bony structure is properly proportioned, and if the alignment of all the vertebrae is everything that can be desired, you are then practically assured of the pulsating vitality which is a part of superb health. it is an interesting fact that the spine is the central and fundamental structure of all the higher organisms on this earth. in the course of the evolution of life on this planet there developed from the very simplest forms of animal organisms two different higher forms of life--on the one hand the vertebrate animals, possessing an internal skeleton, and on the other hand the insects, clams, crustaceans and other creatures that have their skeletons on the outside, as one may say, in the form of shells. the legs of an insect, for instance, are small tubes with the muscles inside. the limbs of vertebrate animals, on the other hand, have the muscle outside the bone. invertebrates commonly have the main nerve trunk in front, or underneath, instead of at the back, and likewise often have their brains in their abdomens. some of them, such as the grasshopper, even hear with their abdomens. but all vertebrata have the great nerve trunk at the back, contained in the spine and with a bulb on the front or upper end constituting the brain. in fact, a vertebrate animal is primarily a living spine, and all other parts of the body are in the nature of appendages. the limbs, for instance, and in the higher animals the ribs and other parts of the skeleton, are simply attached to the spine, or are offshoots from it. in the fishes these limbs take the shape of fins. in the higher developments of life they assume the form of legs. all the higher animals, as we know, have evolved from the fishes and reptiles, and all in common possess a spine which in its fundamental characteristics is very much the same now as when it was first evolved. in other words, the spine is a bodily structure as old as the rock-ribbed hills. it has stood the test of time, and therefore must be regarded as the most highly perfected mechanical structure in the body. its strength combined with its flexibility and its perfect adjustment as a container for the central nervous system, makes it perhaps the most wonderful structure in the body outside of the brain and the spinal cord itself. while other organs and features of the body have been changed and modified to such an extent in the various species which have been evolved that they can hardly be recognized as having a common origin, yet the spine has remained substantially the same. it is true that the spine has been shortened in many species as the result of the loss of the tail, but this means only the dropping off of a part of it and does not greatly alter its fundamental character. the human spine, however, differs from that of other animals in respect to its suitability for the erect posture. man is the only animal in the world who can straighten his body and stand perfectly erect. even the anthropoid apes when standing on their feet assume a somewhat oblique position. the vertebral column in animal life was first developed on the horizontal plane, and so, naturally, when man was evolved and adopted the erect position, certain modifications of the spine were necessary. a new strain developed on the vertebral column which was due to the new position, and so there came about certain changes in its structure. for one thing the spine became less flexible and gained in stability, especially in the lower sections. the sacrum, for instance, is created by the fusing together of several vertebrae into one bone for the sake of greater strength and stability. the sacrum in man is much broader than in animals, for it must supply solidity and strength to the lower part of the spine, thus adapting it to the vertical position, and in the same way the lower vertebrae generally are comparatively broader and heavier, gradually decreasing in size and tapering toward the top of the spine like the trunk of a tree. this particular feature of the human backbone is worthy of special consideration because it is the upper section of the spine, in which the vertebrae are smaller and tapering, that weakness is most likely to exist. it is in this upper section of the spine that strength is most needed in order to preserve it in perfect alignment, and keep the body properly erect. and it is for this reason, as the reader will see, that exercises affecting the upper parts of the spine are most important. therefore i have given them special attention. the curves in the human spine are characteristic, illustrating in another way the modification of the vertebral column that has been made necessary by the erect position. the new-born baby has a backbone that is almost straight, and in this respect it bears a strong resemblance to that of many of the lower animals. the typical human curves, however, begin to take form as soon as the child learns to sit up, and they become more marked as he learns to walk and run. these curves are essential to maintaining the balance of the body in the erect position. there are really three curves in the human backbone, the cervical curve being convex, the dorsal concave, and the lumbar convex, when each is regarded from the forward aspect. if we consider the sacrum and coccyx, there is really a fourth curve, this being concave, although in animals generally the coccyx curves backwards and is extended to form the tail. in some of the lower animals the spine is nearly straight, while in some cases it virtually forms a complete arch from one end to the other. these curves of the spine are generally more marked in the civilized white races than among the black and savage races, and as a rule they are more pronounced among women than among men. for instance, in comparing the sexes we find that in a woman the lumbar curve is more marked and extends slightly higher than in a man, and that the broad sacrum characteristic of the human race is even wider, being thus adapted to the broader hips and wider pelvic cavity of the childbearing sex. now, the maintenance of a strong and erect spine, and especially of the normal curves of youth is most important. with the weakness of advancing age the curves, particularly in the upper part of the spine, tend to become more pronounced. the more accentuated these curves are the greater is the weakness of the spine and of the muscles of the back that is indicated. it is said that a man is as old as his spine, since the deterioration of the spine means the loss of elasticity and supporting power in the disk-like cartilages between the vertebrae, and also the loss of strength in the muscles and ligaments of the back which tend to hold the spinal vertebrae in place. it is usually found that vigorous old men who are mentally and physically active at eighty or ninety years are those who have maintained an erect bearing until late in life, who have kept their spines straight and strong instead of allowing them to bend over and double up. in other words, the deterioration of the spine means a general loss of bodily vigor and a decline in the nervous energy or vitality. with the flattening down of the cushiony disks or cartilages between the vertebrae, and also with the dislocation even in the slightest degree of these vertebrae, there is brought about more or less interference with the free action of the spinal cord itself and of the spinal nerves. the pinching of these nerves naturally interferes with the supply of energy to the organs controlled by them, and causes more or less serious derangement of the bodily functions. if one can keep his spine straight and strong the central nervous system will likewise be healthy and vigorous, and all organs will be supplied with a normal amount of energy and vitality. the special exercises for the spine which i have recommended for years have the general effect not only of maintaining the proper alignment of the vertebrae and thus promoting the health and welfare of the central nervous system, but also of strongly stimulating the nervous system, and thus toning up the entire bodily organism. all movements of the spine, whether of a twisting or bending character, naturally influence the spinal cord and the spinal nerves in a mechanical way. the result is something akin to a massage of these nerve structures, and in this way, as i have long contended, it is possible directly to stimulate the source of energy and vitality. i am convinced for this reason that muscular exercise for the back is infinitely more important than for any other part of the body, important as it is for all parts. if one has only very little time each day to devote to exercise, then it would pay him best to give that time to movements which will strengthen and stimulate the spine. the various movements that i am presenting in this chapter have been devised especially to accompany the hot-water regimen that will be described in the following chapter. they are intended not only to add to the strength of the backbone itself, but have been devised with a view to stimulating to an unusual degree the nerve centers located in the spine. as i have already said, the spinal nerves control the functions of all the vital organs, and when the activity of these organs is stimulated not only through increased nerve force but also by the increased supply of blood that will result from the hot waterdrinking regimen referred to, then indeed will we have a combination of stimulating forces which will bring about vital changes, in very many cases, little short of astounding in character. each of these exercises should be taken until a feeling of fatigue has been noticed, after which you may rest a few moments, breathing fully and deeply with expanded abdomen. you should then be ready to begin the next exercise. there is little danger of soreness from taking these movements when they are combined with hot water-drinking, as recommended in chapter vi, the water seems to cleanse the tissues of the waste products which ordinarily cause soreness when one begins the practice of exercises to which one is not accustomed. if one possesses unusual vigor, then to the exercises illustrated in this chapter may be added those movements appearing in the following chapter. all of the exercises given in this chapter are designed exclusively for the stimulation of the spine and nerve centers. those illustrated in the next chapter are intended chiefly to accelerate the circulation throughout the chest, arms, legs and body as a whole, for when going through a treatment of this character it is naturally advisable for one to arouse the activity of all the functions associated with tissue changes throughout all parts of the body. although these exercises have not been devised especially for corrective purposes in cases of spinal curvature, yet they will be of exceptional value in all such cases, or at least, where there is no radical mechanical deformity of the vertebral column. curvatures may be prevented in all cases, or may be decreased, or even reduced entirely by exercise of this type. incidentally the practice of exercises for improving the spine and giving one the proper erect carriage has a very marked effect upon the chest. an erect position always means expanded chest walls, with plenty of room for the free activity of the heart and lungs. chapter vi: cleansing and stimulating the alimentary canal the alimentary canal has been rightly termed the human fire-box. it is there that the energy is created which runs the human machine. the importance of cleanliness in this part of the physical organism cannot be too greatly emphasized. nearly all diseases have their beginning in the stomach or some other part of the alimentary canal. defective digestion and imperfect assimilation represent the beginning of many incurable and deadly diseases. in seeking methods for building unusual vigor and vitality, one of the first requirements is definite information on the care of the alimentary canal. mere regularity of the bowels does not in all cases indicate a healthy condition of the stomach and bowels. a movement in order to be of the right sort should be so thorough that it leaves one with a feeling of emptiness and cleanliness. in other words, you should feel that the colon has been evacuated thoroughly. many who have regular bowel movements do not have this satisfying sensation afterwards. when the movement is satisfactory in every way little or no straining is necessary. the colon simply empties itself thoroughly, and the evacuation is then complete. however, few have movements of the bowels that are satisfactory to this extent. there should be at least one bowel movement of this kind each day. two movements of this character would be better, but one is sufficient if thorough. do not acquire the idea that the bowels must move at a certain time each day with unintermitted regularity, for they are subject to the same extent as the appetite to what might be termed idiosyncrasies, according to environment and other influences. for instance, you are not always hungry at meal-time. occasionally you eat very little or skip one or more meals, and it would be a serious mistake to goad your appetite with some stimulant or to eat a meal without an appetite. one can hardly say that to force a bowel movement when its necessity is not naturally indicated is as harmful as to eat a meal when it is not craved, but unquestionably it is of advantage to have the bowels move of their own accord, as the result of a natural impulse. movements that do not come through the call of an instinct for relief are rarely satisfactory, and, though we strongly emphasize the necessity of regularity of the bowels, it is not absolutely necessary that this call should come at a certain time during each day; and though it is undoubtedly of some advantage if such is the case, yet so long as there is one evacuation each day of the satisfactory sort described, you can be assured that your alimentary canal is in a normal and healthy condition. however, should the bowels fail to move at the regular time this need not cause concern if you are feeling "up to the mark," and there are no other symptoms that would indicate possible trouble. i mention this alimentary peculiarity to enable my readers to avoid the slavish idea that it is impossible to be in health unless the bowels move at certain times with clock-like regularity. naturally when the contents of the alimentary canal are allowed to accumulate for a considerable period and there is sluggishness throughout the various parts of the small and large intestines, poisons of all kinds are generated and absorbed into the circulation, thus creating conditions ranging all the way from a feeling of lethargy to a condition of weakness and disease that confines one to an invalid's bed. regardless of the attention that you may give to the other information in this book, it is extremely important that you should realize the necessity for active elimination. it is necessary in the maintenance of alimentary health to avoid a slavish adherence to the theory of definitely regular movements of the bowels and still not to make the mistake of allowing them to become chronically sluggish or irregular. as a rule you should depend upon having regular movements each day, though if occasionally a day is missed you should not allow this deviation to worry you. recognizing as i do the great importance of a healthy alimentary canal i have given a vast amount of attention to the various methods which have been suggested from time to time by students of natural healing for assisting to regulate the functional processes of this important part of our organism. the flushing of the lower bowel for instance has been widely recommended, and it is unquestionably of value in some cases. however, it cleanses only the lower part of the alimentary canal, that is to say, the colon. it assists the small intestines no doubt by giving their contents free access to the colon, but yet this aid cannot directly affect them. if you have in view the cleansing of the entire alimentary canal from stomach to rectum, the enema is often of indifferent value. the use of various laxative foods can be recommended in most instances, though even these sometimes fail to bring about satisfying results, and then again there are cases where they provide a remedy for only a short period, after which the bowels resume their old state of chronic torpidity. naturally we cannot consider cathartics of any kind, notwithstanding their power to produce temporary results. in all cases the after effects of their use are seriously destructive to the delicate nerves controlling the alimentary canal and its functions in general. cathartics invariably make the real condition more obstinate and serious. it is well to remember that the real cause of constipation in virtually every instance, is the want of vital vigor of the structures and tissues involved. digestion, though to a certain extent a chemical process, is very largely mechanical. the muscles of the stomach "churn" the food in the beginning of the digestive process, after which the circulatory muscle fibers of the small intestines continue the work. if these muscles are lacking in tone, if they are relaxed, prolapsed and weak, then they cannot properly perform their functions. in attempting to strengthen this important part of the bodily organism the necessity for increasing the vigor of the muscular tissues must invariably be definitely recognized. strong muscles for carrying on the work required of these blood-making organs are of far more importance than strength of the external muscles. for this reason when the system is toned up by any means a beneficial change in the alimentary functions and excretions will always be noted. during a careful study extending over at least a quarter of a century of all health-building methods, i have acquainted myself with numerous theories and remedies which have been applied in accelerating alimentary activity. i am, in this chapter, presenting a new system or combination of means for strengthening and stimulating the alimentary functions which experience has proved to be of extraordinary value. this method has the advantage of directly affecting the organs involved, and results can be obtained speedily in virtually every instance. this system of alimentary stimulation can be roughly described as a combination of hot-water-drinking and a nerve-center-stimulating process. the best time for giving this method a thorough trial is immediately upon arising in the morning. it should not be attempted at any other time of the day, for it is especially important that the stomach should be free of any recently ingested food. all that is required to carry out this treatment is one or two quarts of boiling water, a minute quantity of salt, and a cup that will hold from one-half a pint to one pint of water. the second phase of this treatment is exercise and comprises the series of movements illustrated in this work. wherever possible these nerve-stimulating exercises should be taken out-of-doors or before an open window. if the weather is cold, you should wear enough clothing to maintain a satisfactory degree of warmth; if the weather is warm, the less clothing worn the better. if the skin is especially inactive, or if it is suffering from a disease in which the eliminating process ordinarily accelerated by a russian or turkish bath is of value, then wear heavy warm clothing while taking the treatment. a thick sweater is advantageous under such circumstances. a profuse perspiration will result, indicating a purifying process that is of special value when the system needs to be cleansed of the accumulated poisons which are the direct cause of nearly all diseases. if you are capable of taking about two quarts of water in the course of the exercise then each cup should contain nearly a pint, but if you cannot drink over one quart each cup should contain not more than half a pint. before beginning the nerve-stimulating exercise drink the first cup of hot water, putting a pinch of salt in the bottom of the cup to take away the flat taste of the hot water. pour the cup half full of boiling water and then add cold water until it is sufficiently cool to be rapidly swallowed. drink the water as hot as possible without sipping it. now take exercises 11, 12 and 14. continue each one of these movements until a feeling of fatigue is noticed, after which you are ready for a second cup of hot water. don't hurry. don't continue any movement to exhaustion, though a feeling of local fatigue in the particular muscles concerned is desirable. this feeling, however, should entirely disappear after a rest of one or two minutes. after the second cup of hot water you are ready for exercises 13, 7 and 8, whereupon you may take a third cup of hot water. you may then take exercises 15, 16 and 9, followed by another cup of hot water, and then exercises 17, 6 and 10, and so on. while this is suggested as a general plan, it is not imperative that this order be followed strictly, for your individual requirements might be better suited by minor variations; for instance, by two or four exercises between the intervals of hot-water-drinking. if you find your capacity is unequal to the quantity of hot water suggested, then simply take as much as you can without inconvenience or discomfort. each day, however, while following this method you will find your hot-water-drinking capacity will increase, though as a rule, a person of average weight and height can take from one to two quarts without serious inconvenience. the hot-waterdrinking together with the exercise will naturally very greatly increase the pulse, and where there is heart disease or any weakness of the heart this treatment must be taken with unusual care. in virtually every case this method will materially increase the strength of a weak heart, though there is naturally the possibility of strain, and the treatment should be adapted to your strength in the beginning and very gradually increased week by week. temporary attacks of constipation, where severe enough to need attention, can usually be ready for exercises 13, 7 and 8, whereupon you may take a third cup of hot water. you may then take exercises 15, 16 and 9, followed by another cup of hot water, and then exercises 17, 6 and 10, and so on. while this is suggested as a general plan, it is not imperative that this order be followed strictly, for your individual requirements might be better suited by minor variations; for instance, by two or four exercises between the intervals of hot-water-drinking. temporary attacks of constipation, where severe enough to need attention, can usually be quickly remedied by this hot-waterdrinking, nerve-stimulating method. usually, if there is need for a movement of the bowels an instinctive and compelling desire will appear while taking the treatment or very shortly thereafter. if, however, you feel there is a necessity for such a movement and it does not appear, you can rest assured that the treatment has brought about sufficient benefit to excite the activity of the organs involved and that the desire will come later. in some very obstinate cases of constipation, or in serious temporary attacks of this difficulty, where a movement of the bowels is desired quickly, from one-quarter to one-half a level teaspoonful of salt can be added to each cup of hot water. this will in nearly all cases insure a speedy and satisfactory bowel movement. this, however, is not advised unless absolutely necessary. it is well to point out that this treatment in its extreme form can hardly be used with complete satisfaction by those who are below average strength. in any case, however, the drinking of a small amount of hot water can be attempted and the exercises illustrated can be used, if one is careful not to make his efforts too severe. the hot-waterdrinking process as well as the exercise must, however, be adapted to the requirements of each individual, and it may be well in most cases to experiment two or three times before following all of these suggestions in detail. where one is lacking in vital strength a beginning can be made by taking only two cups of hot water, using exercises 7, 8 and 9, which can be taken in a reclining position. one may continue in this way for a week or two, after which a third cup of hot water might be added. in this way one can gradually increase the amount of water consumed and the vigor and the amount of the exercise taken. where there is a tendency toward rheumatism, gout, neuritis, neuralgia, or where there are any other symptoms indicating the accumulation of poisons or impurities in the system, it is advisable to use distilled water, though if this cannot be secured ordinary boiled water will be satisfactory. at least be sure to boil your water before using if it is heavily charged with mineral matter, since boiling tends to precipitate lime salts. in other words, hard water is not desirable in such cases. the hot-water-drinking regimen in itself has a decidedly beneficial effect upon the stomach and intestines. but much better results, especially in the case of constipation, are secured when the special nerve-stimulating exercises recommended are taken in connection with it. by this combination we obtain results that cannot be secured in any other way. in fact, stiffness, soreness and rheumatic "twinges" in various parts of the body are often removed with astounding rapidity through the help of this particular treatment. the cleansing and eliminating functions are stimulated to an extraordinary extent by combining these two blood-purifying forces: hot-water-drinking and the stimulation of the nerve centers. this regimen is also a splendid means of increasing the weight in cases of defective assimilation. it seems to tone up the entire vital and functional system, in addition to directly influencing the digestive organs. the hot water alone tends to cleanse and empty very thoroughly the stomach and intestines, also to stimulate the secretion of the digestive juices. those who are below normal weight chiefly because of poor assimilative powers are especially advised to give this method a thorough trial for a period of a few weeks. again, if your complexion is sallow, dull, and "muddy," a remarkable improvement will speedily appear as a result of this treatment. in a recent case i observed a surprising change at the end of one week in a complexion that had been sallow and lifeless. the complexion in this instance not only assumed an improved color, but the tissues of the face were also filled out considerably, and when improvement is thus manifested on the surface you can well realize that the internal changes are even more pronounced. the devitalized condition of the various glands and structures in this part of the body is gradually remedied by the improvement in the circulation that comes with what might be termed a stimulating supply of liquids, and the same good result is accomplished, so far as the general circulation is concerned, in the welfare of the body as a whole. those suffering from high blood pressure will find this treatment of unusual value, though great care should, of course, be taken to avoid any movements that are in any way exhausting or violent. when the blood is in a thick or viscous condition the use of the hot water adds to its fluidity, and it can then be forced more easily through the capillaries, thus greatly lessening the blood pressure. it is well known that a low blood pressure is conducive to endurance and to general health. and when these exercises especially advised for stimulating the nerve centers and for strengthening and vitalizing the spine are combined with a liberal use of hot water, the blood is forced through all the tissues, with the general effect of thoroughly cleansing all parts, in addition to immediately cleansing the alimentary canal. it is customary among athletes to use massage, or what is commonly called a "rub down," following their exercise. the purpose of this is to increase the circulation and thereby to carry out of the muscles the fatigue-poisons that have accumulated therein during the exercise. now if a large amount of hot water is used in connection with movements such as we are illustrating, this purpose will be even more thoroughly accomplished during the exercise itself, as the muscular and other tissues are virtually flushed out owing to the more fluid character of the blood and its more ready and perfect circulation through all parts. one who feels stiff from severe exercise, or finds his tissues sore for other reasons, should be able to overcome this stiffness and gain a sense of refreshment through this method. referring to the subject of elimination in the case of fatigue, i might say that some students have ascribed the feeling of fatigue at the end of the day's work to an accumulation of deposits within the walls of the arteries and veins, which deposits are ordinarily carried off during sleep. if this theory is true i can think of no simpler or more satisfactory method of removing this waste matter in the blood-vessels than this system of flushing them. for producing immediate results of any kind there is no other method so far as i know which is so effective as this if one has sufficient strength properly to use it. i have known cases in which a headache has been cured in a few minutes by sprinting or other violent exercise, and cases in which neuralgic toothaches and other pains have yielded to vigorous exercise continued for a prolonged period. i have also known the same relief to be obtained by drinking a liberal quantity of hot water, but in all such instances results would be more quickly and certainly secured through a combination of these stimulating forces. to repeat for clearness and emphasis, the method outlined consists of the following: a combination of hot-water-drinking and specially adapted movements for stimulating the nerve centers. half a pint to a pint of hot water-as hot as can be drunk-to be taken on beginning the treatment immediately on arising in the morning. an additional quantity of hot water to be taken each five to ten minutes thereafter until from one to two quarts have been consumed. a large amount of clothing to be worn if profuse perspiration is desired, though where an increase of weight is of advantage and no actual disease exists in the system, no more clothing should be worn than is necessary to maintain warmth. when a bowel movement is definitely needed, a complete and perfectly satisfactory evacuation is often brought about while taking this treatment. the cleansing process, however, will result in a clearer brain and an improved physical as well as mental capacity, whether or not the bowels act immediately, and one can nearly always depend upon a satisfactory movement later. when there is suffering from temporary attacks of constipation and immediate relief is desired, add from one-quarter to one-half a level teaspoonful of salt to each cup of hot water. speedy results can be depended upon in virtually every case. another method of accomplishing the same thing is to continue the hot-water-drinking even beyond the two quarts suggested, adding no more than a small pinch of salt to each cup, as previously suggested. no harm will come from this excessive water-drinking if one is possessed of a normal amount of vigor. if one is athletic, jumping one to two hundred times, as when jumping a rope, just previous to moving the bowels is often of value in inducing a natural desire that in nearly all cases brings satisfactory results. where it is difficult to take the amount of water prescribed, take as much as you conveniently can, gradually increasing the quantity each day. this hot-water-drinking regimen is not necessarily recommended as a permanent measure to be continued every day for an indefinite period. when you feel that your physical status is satisfactory in every way, you can drop the method for a few days, after which it can be resumed as desired, though it would be of advantage to continue taking the exercises each day, and if even one or two glasses of hot water are taken beneficial results would accrue. chapter vii: exercise for vitality building inactivity is non-existence. it means death. our bodily powers and organs were given to us for a definite purpose. failure to use them brings serious penalties. there can be no real health with physical stagnation. to be sure, we may point to some men possessing extraordinary vitality who, apparently, have lived without exercise. but a study of their habits of life will usually bring to light some form of muscular activity, even if it be nothing more than a moderate amount of walking. in some cases, such extraordinary vitality may be possessed that health laws can be broken with apparent impunity, but it will usually be found that a vigorous constitution was developed in early youth from plenty of exercise. however, the failure to observe these important bodily requirements invariably means trouble before reaching the period at which old age begins. though the average of human life has been greatly increased through the decline in infant mortality, the death rate among men of middle age has more than doubled in the past thirty years. and even if those of exceptional vitality can neglect their physical requirements without suffering, the man of limited energy, who is trying to build vitality, certainly cannot afford to do so. we ought to take a reasonable amount of exercise at intervals, regular or otherwise, in order to keep fully alive. it is not a case of exercise for the sake of muscular strength alone, but for the sake of health and life. there are many people who labor under the delusion that they are living without exercise, but existing does not mean living. to live in the full sense of the word means that you are thoroughly alive, and you positively cannot be thoroughly alive unless all the physical processes involved in the various functions of the body are active. functional activity means pure blood, of superior quality, and when one fails to give the muscular system its proper use, the functions stagnate, the blood is filled with impurities of various sorts, and under such circumstances the body is not really alive. when the body is harboring an excessive number of dead cells and other waste material one cannot say that he is entirely alive. under such conditions you are literally half dead and half alive. it is well known that the body is dying at all times. minute cells that constitute the bodily tissues lose their vitality and life, and are taken up by the venous blood and carried to the various organs which take part in the work of elimination. now these dead cells and minute corpuscles linger in the tissues if one lives an inactive life. therefore it is literally true that you are half dead if you do not give the muscular system its proper use. physically the muscular system is such an important part of the body that failure to keep it in good condition by failure to keep it active seriously affects all other parts. the greater part of the food we eat is consumed by the muscles. most of the heat produced by the body is generated in the muscles. therefore to neglect this part of our organism means to disorganize, to a large extent, the workings of all other parts. the appetite, under such conditions, fails and the entire functional system loses tone. in fact, i may say that exercise is the first and most important of all the methods of building functional strength. when the muscles are exercised the vital, organs are energized and the activity of the entire functional system greatly increased-all clearly indicating that in taking physical exercise the internal organs are aroused and stimulated. gigantic strength is not especially needed. it is not necessary for one to strive to eclipse the feats of famous strong men. unusual muscular development is of no great value in this age, but a normal degree of strength is absolutely necessary in the struggle for health and vitality. no one should be satisfied with less than what might be regarded as a normal degree of strength, and this, when once developed, can usually be retained by a moderate amount of exercise each day. now it is not necessary to adopt some complicated system of exercise for giving the muscles the required activity. your exercise can take the form of play. it may preferably be taken out-of-doors. but you must keep definitely in mind that the body was given you for active use, and some regular method must be adopted that will insure the activity required. the exercises referred to in the chapter on outdoor life may first of all be recommended. if you have no bodily defects any one of these outdoor sports will probably give your muscles all the exercise needed, but if you are suffering from defects of any kind and you are desirous of remedying them some special exercises adapted to your individual needs should be taken with religious regularity. if you have a flat or sunken chest, if you are round-shouldered, if there is one shoulder higher than the other, if there is a spinal curvature, or if the muscles of the stomach or abdomen are weak, it will be necessary to give special attention to such parts through systematic movements intended to have a corrective influence. in another part of this volume various exercises have been illustrated that are especially recommended to those who are already in possession of ordinary strength. in this chapter i am illustrating a series of movements that have a similar object in view, but which will be found far easier to perform. the exercises in this chapter are especially adapted to those who are weak or ailing. they are designed, however, for the purpose of stimulating and strengthening the spine, which, as i have previously suggested, is the central source of vitality. the hotwater-drinking regimen referred to in the chapter on cleansing the alimentary canal can also be used in connection with these exercises, though naturally if one is weak but a small quantity of water can be taken. chapter viii: how to breathe volumes have been written upon the value of breathing exercises. many exaggerated statements have been made as to what can be accomplished through deep breathing. nevertheless, it must be definitely understood that full, deep breaths, which expand the lungs to their fullest capacity, and are taken at frequent intervals, are of great value. almost any vigorous exercise will enforce deep breathing, and there is no question as to the benefit of the involuntary or spontaneous inhalation and exhalation thus induced. running and wrestling are types of very vigorous athletic exercises that will compel one to breathe deeply and fully, and will insure a full lung development without special breathing exercises. and this is more especially true if much exercise of this character is taken regularly, day after day, all the year round. but where the occupation and surroundings are such that one cannot indulge in such active pastimes, or where the time for such exercises is necessarily limited, frequent voluntary deep-breathing exercises can be highly commended. about the best example of the proper use of the diaphragm and the natural movement of the abdominal and dorsal region in correct breathing is illustrated in a small child. in nearly all cases an active healthy child will breathe properly, and by studying the movement of his abdomen in both standing and reclining positions you will find that as the breath is inhaled the abdominal region will expand. when the breath is exhaled this part of the body will contract or be drawn inward. this demonstrates very conclusively that the movement or expansion of the body in natural breathing is abdominal, and that the bony framework of the chest should not be involved except when taking full deep breaths, or when breathing hard from the effects of very vigorous exercise. it is not at all necessary to go through a complicated system in order to learn proper methods of breathing, since this is comparatively simple if you are willing to make persistent efforts day after day until you are fittingly rewarded. if you simply acquire the habit of drawing in a deep full breath, at frequent intervals during the day, expanding first in the abdominal region, you will soon be able to breathe properly. a correct position of the body is very important, for if you have the proper erect posture, and have no constricting clothing about the waist and abdominal region, you will almost instinctively be inclined to breathe diaphragmatically, or abdominally, as we call it. furthermore, when going out in the open air you will find as a result of this practice that you are unconsciously expanding in the proper manner as suggested. in fact, you will be more inclined to breathe freely and deeply at all times if a proper position is maintained. it is hardly necessary to mention the necessity for breathing pure air, and especially when taking deep-breathing exercises, if you wish the very greatest results. take these deep breaths when in the open air, or else before an open window. it is a good plan, for instance, when rising in the morning to stand before an open window and inhale perhaps a dozen full, complete breaths. this will help greatly to brush the cobwebs from your brain and brighten you up for the day's duties and responsibilities. all of these suggestions apply with equal force to both sexes. because of the fashions of dress usually in vogue the breathing of women is much more restricted than that of men. furthermore, they are generally less inclined to athletic pursuits involving exercise which compels deep breathing. the method of breathing recommended for women is absolutely identical with that suggested for men. it is a curious fact that until recent years the world generally, the medical profession included, held the opinion that there is a fundamental difference between men and women in breathing. observation of the natural breathing of boys and girls would soon prove the absurdity of this opinion. owing to the universal use of the corset, thoracic breathing, or chest breathing, the result of the artificial constriction of the body at and below the waist line, appeared to be the natural method of breathing for women, whereas diaphragmatic breathing was recognized as proper and natural for men. only in recent years have medical authorities recognized that this difference was really due only to artificial methods of dress and that natural breathing in women and men is absolutely the same. recent fashions have permitted the enlargement of the waist line in women, but unfortunately there is still too much constriction of this important part of the body. when the world becomes more truly civilized and our methods of dress are based upon common sense and an intelligent understanding of the physical requirements of the body, we may hope that the dress of women will be such as to permit entire freedom in the matter of breathing, and the easy expansion of the body at the waist line. some day women will learn the value of suspending skirts, stockings, etc., from the shoulders instead of relying upon the restriction at the waist as a means of support. if you wish to ascertain more exactly whether or not your breathing is entirely satisfactory, stand up, take a deep breath, and observe not only the expansion in the region of the stomach and abdomen but also at the sides and in the back. if you place the palms of your hands upon the lower ribs in the back, just above the waist line, you should feel the expansion of the body in this part pressing upward through the action of the diaphragm as a deep breath is inhaled. also by pressing the hands upon the lower ribs at the sides, just above the waist line, you will feel the lateral expansion in this region at the same time that the expansion is noted in the front of the body. you will therefore realize that there should be an expansion of the lower ribs at the back and at the sides along with the expansion in the region of the stomach and abdomen. of course, when a very full breath is taken there will also be an expansion of the chest following the filling up of the lower part of the lungs. chapter ix: outdoor life civilized man is an indoor animal. we no longer live in tree-tops nor even in caves, but in houses, and a great many of us spend the larger part of every year in close, ill-ventilated, overheated rooms. from a health viewpoint the cave-dweller would no doubt have the advantage over the average american who follows a sedentary occupation. the steam-heated apartments of our great cities are thoroughly aired only on rare intervals, and consequently those who reside therein often dry up in mind, soul and body along with the furniture. in order to live in every sense of the word we must become a part of the great outdoors. outdoor life adds to one's vitality and vigor. it increases one's energies and enthusiasms. you cannot be ambitious or vivacious, you cannot really amount to anything in life, if you are confined to an overheated flat. if there is any hobby that is worth while it is one that takes us outof-doors. what the attractive features of your hobby may be, is not of very great importance provided this object is secured. you must be lured away from your stuffy living rooms and encouraged to breathe the fresh, pure air of the open. there are out-of-door exercises of all sorts which are of great value, but even a seat in a motor car wherein your exercise is confined principally to increased respiration through the pleasure that comes with fast riding, is at least of some value. the health of the nation, as a whole, has been greatly improved by the automobile through its encouragement of the outdoor life. but if you can join with your outdoor life some active exercise which will use all the muscles of the body the benefits will be much greater. there are various open-air pastimes that can be made unusually vigorous, and so can be highly recommended if one is possessed of ordinary strength. football is perhaps one of the most strenuous of outdoor games, and is to be especially advised where one has the vitality and endurance which fits him for an exercise of this character. golf is an example of a milder outdoor pastime that is particularly suited to middle-aged and elderly persons, although young men and women are benefited by it, too. it affords excellent exercise in walking, and the swinging of the golf clubs affords more exercise for the chest, arms and back than is usually supposed. one who is not accustomed to the game will usually find the muscles of the arms, shoulders and chest sore or at least stiff from the unusual exercise when first attempting to play this game. tennis furnishes a vigorous exercise that is especially commendable for adding to one's vitality. it is a good endurance builder. tennis can be made as fast and energetic, or as leisurely and moderate as one wishes, depending entirely upon the skill, strength and ability of the player. tennis is a safe and sane pastime that is growing in popularity, and can be universally recommended for both sexes and all ages. rowing, running, cross-country work, track athletics, lacrosse, handball, hockey and polo are all splendid and vigorous games, well calculated to develop the best type of physical stamina. for those possessing the requisite strength they can all be highly recommended, though as a rule it is best not to specialize in any one of them but to secure as much variety as possible. specializing in athletics may win championships and may stimulate interest in sports, but for the average man or woman specialization is not desirable. even if you are only a "dub" instead of a champion in each of these games, it is better to play them all, since you will thereby secure a well-rounded physical development, and also obtain the maximum of "fun." for those who are less rugged but who on that very account are all the more in need of open-air exercise there is a great variety of other less strenuous pastimes. cycling and horseback riding can be particularly recommended as enjoyable forms of outing in combination with a certain amount of exercise. skating is an ideal pastime for the colder weather as it requires no special strength and adds to the vigor of the heart, lungs and other vital organs; besides this, the brisk, cold air of the winter months is a tonic of great value. snowshoeing, yachting, rope-skipping, canoeing, archery, croquet, coasting and various similar pastimes are all to be commended. swimming is of great value, both as a means of physical development and as a health builder, but if your vitality is limited do not stay in the water too long. swimming may be made mild or very strenuous. if you swim with the skill of an expert, only a very moderate exertion is required, though some of the new racing strokes tax the strength and endurance of the strongest athlete. swimming combines the pleasures of bathing and exercise, and under proper conditions is invaluable. those who are "fleshy" can stay in the water a long time, but if you are "thin" take care lest you lose weight by too much bathing. the slender man or woman may take a daily swim for its tonic effect. it may even cause one to gain in weight if the exercise is not prolonged, but persons of this type usually lose weight in the course of a season of too much bathing. there is one point of special importance in connection with our exercise and that is to cultivate the play spirit. you will never fully enjoy your sports and you will never obtain all possible benefit from them until you lose your dignity and learn how to play. try to be glad that you are alive and able to play these games. one great drawback to american sports is the tendency to take them too seriously. there is too much of strained effort involved in the desire to win the game at any price. keep yourself in a state of mind where you "see the fun." though "playing to win" may be commended, the real purpose of any game is the fun and benefit that is secured therefrom whether you win or lose. there have been cases when members of a boat crew or a football team have actually cried over a lost game. imagine the nerve strain involved in taking athletics so seriously! it is splendid to win, but it should also be pleasurable to lose to a worthy antagonist. do not take your games too seriously, but make them a laughing matter. only by assuming this attitude can you get the greatest possible benefits that can be derived from games. the nature of your exercise does not matter so long as there is that increased activity of the heart, lungs and other organs which tends to improve the circulation throughout the entire body. the exercise must insure deep breathing, and if a certain amount of perspiration is induced it will be advantageous. first of all get out-of-doors; find some exercise that appeals, some alluring attraction which will take you away from the confinement of your home. live as much as you can in the open. if possible, try sleeping out-of-doors. men and women of today may be aptly compared to sensitive plants. we are the devitalized product of the universal custom of coddling, and the less we live within four walls, and the more we breathe the free outdoor air, the stronger, healthier and more capable we become. there is one outdoor exercise that we can all take without expense, and it is by far the best when everything is considered. at least this statement is true so far as the building of vitality and endurance is concerned. i refer to walking. this is an exercise that can be made decidedly vigorous if desired. and no matter what health-building regimen you may follow, a certain amount of walking is essential to maintaining the highest degree of physical vigor. walking is a tonic of very great value to every one of the organic functions. it stimulates the activities of the purifying organs to an unusual degree. it is a remedy of great efficacy in overcoming constipation. it can be highly recommended for strengthening the heart, for stimulating the liver and kidneys, and it will tone up the physical organism throughout. furthermore, this exercise is of unusual value as a mental stimulant. it clears the "cobwebs" from the brain. if you are bothered with vexing problems put them aside until you can take a long walk. with the improved quality of the blood and the more active circulation of this functional tonic, your mental efficiency will be greatly increased. you will think more quickly; your conclusions will be clearer, more definite and more dependable. i know a successful novelist who depends very largely upon his long walks for working out the themes and plots of his stories. i have frequently followed the same plan in connection with my own work. i know of other writers who depend upon this method of gaining inspiration. i have been told that chopping wood is mentally stimulating, and also that horseback riding and cycling are sometimes helpful in this direction, but walking is without doubt the most effective mental stimulant to be found out-ofdoors. it accelerates the circulation, and seems to arouse the vital forces of the body, but does not require such an expenditure of energy as to prevent the brain from being exceptionally active. now to secure the real benefits that come from walking there should be no laziness about it. do not walk as though you were on a fashion parade. the sunday afternoon stroll on the city streets may be very alluring, but you cannot under such circumstances secure the real benefits that may be found in walking. if possible go out on the country roads or walk across the fields. put a certain amount of energy into your every step. walk briskly and as though you enjoyed it, and you will discover that you do enjoy it. even if your first few steps require an unusual effort on your part, "step lively" just the same, and you will shortly find that you feel lively, too. a walk of this sort into which you put real energy in every step is a tonic of amazing value. it will stir up your entire organism. it will insure an active functioning, and make you feel and be thoroughly alive. if you have the added advantage that comes from pure country air you are to be envied. but even without these superior advantages, even if your route is confined to city streets, some benefit will still result from taking the walk tonic. while walking give special attention to my suggestions concerning breathing. breathe deeply and fully at frequent intervals. expand the body in the abdominal region. if you like, you can carry your breathing still farther and allow this expansion to extend to the chest walls, though as a rule, this is not necessary. no doubt one of the most valuable suggestions for strength and vitality building while walking is to take at frequent periods several movements which are referred to in the chapter on thyroid stimulation, namely, the chin-in-downwardand-backward motion while holding a full breath with abdomen fully expanded. in fact this idea, if carried out until the muscles of the back of the neck are fatigued at the completion of the walk, will energize you mentally and physically. a suggestion that i have often offered in various articles upon this subject is to practice what i may term harmonious or rhythmic breathing, which i regard as of exceptional value. by this i mean taking the same amount of time to draw in the breath as you do to exhale it, keeping time with a certain number of steps. for instance, while taking eight steps, draw in a breath and exhale during the next eight steps. you may make this six, eight, ten or twelve steps if you like. if you have some piece of music in mind that carries with it a rhythm that accommodates itself to your steps while walking, and if each inhalation and exhalation takes up an even number of steps, you will find that you are swinging along with a sense of harmony and pleasure that will make distances pass away and cause you to be unconscious of the length of your walk. this rhythmic or harmonious breathing is an excellent means of cultivating the deep-breathing habit. another exercise is of material value in connection with the practice of deep breathing while walking, serving especially to stimulate the digestive and other internal organs. this consists in holding a fairly full breath for a series of four, six or eight steps, and at the same time expanding the body still further in the region of the stomach. this is accomplished largely through the action of the diaphragm and the muscles across the front of the body in the region of the stomach. this should be executed with a sort of pumping motion, that is to say by a series of alternate contractions and relaxations rapidly following each other. expand the region of the stomach by this muscular effort for an instant, relax, repeat, and continue in that way several times during the course of the six or eight steps during which you hold the breath. then exhale freely and after one or two breaths repeat. this has the effect of massaging, as it were, the internal organs, and is of material value in bringing about improved functioning, as well as strengthening these parts. if you can find an opportunity to go camping there is no better way in which to spend a vacation. everyone knows that a term of two or three weeks in the woods or by the side of a lake, living out-of-doors to some extent after the manner of primitive man, and getting a certain amount of pleasurable exercise with the continuous fresh air, will work wonders. but if camping for a short period is beneficial, then a part of each day in the open air during the summer is well worth while; therefore try to "camp out" for two or three hours each evening. if you are through work at five o'clock, for instance, enjoy a picnic dinner in the open, instead of a regular supper in the dining-room of your home. it is daylight until almost eight o'clock during most of the summer, and this plan would yield two or three hours of open-air life. or take advantage of part of this time, before supper, to go rowing, or swimming, to play some game, such as tennis, or to do anything else that will occupy you pleasantly for an hour or two in the open air. at least you can always take a good walk. if you go to bed at a reasonable hour you can probably rise early enough to permit a walk of one or two hours, or some other open-air activity, before going to work. if your work is in an office where you will be confined all day this advice is especially important. when your office hours begin at eight or nine o'clock in the morning you should imbibe as much fresh air as possible before work, if only by walking part or all the way to your place of business. be in the open air as much as you can. many people think they are too busy for this. they make the plea of lack of time, but when illness appears they have plenty of time to stay in bed. the open-air man or woman "side-steps" sickness. since superabundant vitality can be obtained through open-air life, spend as much time as you can out-of-doors. cultivate the outdoor habit. it will increase your efficiency so that you will do better work in less time. chapter x: strengthening the stomach one of the first requirements in vitality building is strengthening the stomach. within the stomach we find the beginning of all vital bloodmaking processes. here is where the food first passes through the changes essential to create the life-building fluid called the blood. we therefore cannot exaggerate the importance of strength to this important organ. when referring to a strong stomach, i do not mean strength in the abdominal muscles lying immediately in front of the stomach; i mean strength of the muscles within the walls of the stomach itself, which, to a large extent, actually constitute the stomach. these layers of muscular fibers which assist in carrying on important parts of the digestive processes must be strong if digestion is to be satisfactory in every way. now the work of strengthening the stomach does not, by any means, consist wholly of exercise. the stomach in order to be strengthened must have a due amount of intelligent consideration at all times. for instance, you cannot make a garbage can of your stomach and expect to increase the strength of the organ. it is really necessary, if you are seriously desirous of securing the best results in vitality building, to learn at least the fundamental facts relating to rational dietetics; and, after acquiring this knowledge, to apply it to your individual use throughout every day of your life. the suggestions that i have offered in the chapter on cleansing and stimulating the alimentary canal are truly of extreme importance in these strengthening processes. in fact in every instance this plan will increase the assimilative strength, and will enable you to create a better quality of blood; and this result in turn naturally aids in strengthening the stomach itself as well as all other parts of the body. furthermore, this is a method for cleansing directly not only the organ itself but the various glands which furnish the digestive juices. therefore, if difficulties are frequently presented in connection with the functions of this organ, special attention should be given to the elemental cleansing and strengthening processes as outlined in the chapter referred to. there are various special exercises which will have a certain influence upon the stomach because of their mechanical stimulation of this organ. all bending and twisting movements of the trunk of the body will naturally stimulate the action of the stomach because of their direct mechanical effect. all movements of this sort are naturally valuable under the circumstances, though for a short time after a meal any exercise that is so severe as to interfere with digestion should be avoided. such interference results when the muscles are used to such an extent that they require greatly increased quantities of blood at a time when a plentiful supply is needed by the stomach to carry on the work of digestion. all my readers no doubt already understand the necessity for giving the digestive organs every opportunity to carry on their processes for at least one hour after a hearty meal. bending and body-twisting movements are valuable one hour or more after a meal for strengthening the stomach, but they interfere with digestion if taken immediately thereafter. for increasing the vigor of this most important organ i would especially recommend the method already referred to for cleansing the alimentary canal and also the exercises which are given in connection therewith in the same chapter. if one is not in possession of a fair amount of strength i would suggest merely the exercises illustrated in chapter vii to be taken in conjunction with the morning hot-water-drinking regimen. it should be remembered, however, that for the strengthening of the stomach one must really depend most of all upon a proper diet and the care of the stomach generally, rather than upon any system of exercises intended to invigorate this organ. to build up a strong stomach a daily plan of life must be followed which requires of the entire body a normal amount of activity, thus demanding and using a fairly liberal supply of nourishment. an active life is always favorable to good digestion, and especially so if it is an out-of-door life for at least a large part of each day, for then an appetite is created demanding of the stomach that healthy activity essential to strength building; in other words, an active and normal life generally is essential to the maintenance of a strong and healthy stomach. the body must be regarded not as an aggregation of parts, but as one complete unit, and anything that affects all parts affects each separate part. it is quite true that when the stomach is weakened from any cause, it is not wise to overtax it by the ingestion of foods that are difficult to digest. but at the same time a policy of using predigested foods, or others that are suited only to a weak stomach, is not likely to develop a vigorous digestion. it is essential that one should use a proper supply of natural and wholesome foods properly prepared. if this is done and the general rules of rational dietetics are observed, there is no reason why any one should not enjoy the possession of a strong stomach and a vigorous digestion. i cannot, however, place too much emphasis upon the value of outdoor life and general activity and the constitutional benefits that go with them for improving the stomach as well as all other parts of the body. chapter xi: preserving the teeth health to a large extent depends upon the teeth. food can not be properly masticated without sound molars. the modern tendency of teeth to decay early in life clearly proves that something is wrong with our dietetic or chewing habits. like any other part of the body, the teeth must be exercised in order to be properly preserved. our foods are so frequently macerated to a fine consistency and they are so often cooked to a mush before they are eaten, that the teeth have little to do. they decay and become soft or brittle because of lack of use. it is necessary to give the teeth a reasonable amount of regular use. cultivate the habit of eating zwieback, hard crackers or other hard food substances that require real vigorous chewing. if this is difficult, then make a habit of exercising the teeth in some way. the idea suggested in the illustrations accompanying this chapter will be found of value, though any method can be recommended that serves the same purpose. do not, however, depend upon the chewing of gum for hours each day as a means of exercising the teeth. chewing a hard gum for a few minutes after a meal might be of advantage, but continual gumchewing wastes and weakens the digestive elements of the saliva. in other words, if you sit down to a meal after chewing gum for two or three hours, the saliva that you mix with your food will not have the normal digestive elements. one might say that the "strength" of the saliva has been lost while chewing gum. if your teeth are decayed the offending members should be removed or the cavities filled. it is always wise to retain every tooth you can until extraction is practically compulsory. decayed teeth should be filled promptly. as long as a tooth can be filled it should not be extracted. a good dentist should be consulted at frequent intervals. if tartar has collected on the teeth, it should be removed by a competent dentist. one good method of keeping the teeth free from tartar is to rub the gums and teeth daily with table salt containing considerable grit. dampen the finger, place a quantity of table salt thereon and then rub the teeth where they meet the gums. make the process sufficiently vigorous to rub off any tartar that may have accumulated. the mouth should be rinsed with moderately warm water immediately after this process to remove the salt. any good tooth wash that is sold in the form of paste can be used instead of salt for this same purpose. this rubbing process is of more value to strengthen the gums and to cleanse the teeth than brushing the teeth with an ordinary tooth brush. tooth brushes, however, are valuable and should be used morning and evening. in caring for the teeth the following plan is suggested: soon after rising rinse the mouth out thoroughly with a mild antiseptic tooth wash; soap, or salt and water, is fairly good if nothing better can be obtained. plain water will also serve the purpose. lemon juice to which considerable water has been added, also makes a good mouth wash. orange juice can also be recommended. it may be said that most of the standard tooth powders and tooth pastes on the market at the present time are fairly reliable and satisfactory, particularly those of which the formula is printed on the wrapper. when brushing the teeth, avoid using a brush with the bristles too hard. a mediumor even a soft-bristle brush is preferable. the lateral action of the tooth brush, commonly used, is of limited value. one should use a vertical or up-and-down movement, so that the bristles will reach the crevices between the teeth. it is the spaces between the teeth that particularly need cleaning and the brush should be used in such a way as to reach these. it is here that decay usually begins. after having brushed the teeth then rub them in the manner previously described. spend two or three or even four or five minutes at this rubbing process. if the teeth are free from tartar do not use the salt more than once or twice weekly, though any good tooth paste could be used daily to advantage, not for brushing the teeth, mind you, but for rubbing the gums and teeth. for removing accumulated food substances from between the teeth silk or linen floss can be recommended. holding the thread between the fingers of each hand force it down between two teeth and bring it back and forth. if you have no regular dental floss, use any white silk thread for the purpose. it does not do one much good to brush the teeth if he does not remove decaying and acid-forming matter from between the teeth. the use of dental floss is fully as important as the use of a tooth brush. where rigg's disease, or pyorrhea, is present, an antiseptic can be used to advantage two or three times daily after rubbing or washing the teeth. massage of the gums may prove helpful, if gently applied, though in a serious case of pyorrhea a fasting and general blood-purifying regimen is advisable. the condition of the teeth is influenced to a large extent by the state of the stomach. where the digestion is perfect, the breath free from all foul odors, the teeth are less liable to decay and tartar rarely accumulates. where there is any stomach disorder, however, very great care must be taken to avoid a number of unpleasant symptoms associated with the gradual deterioration of the teeth. if the various suggestions i have made in this volume for maintaining superior health are followed with a reasonable amount of care, and the tooth brush is used regularly, in addition to proper attention being given to thorough mastication, the teeth should be retained as long as there is use for them. remember, however, the very important suggestion made in another chapter in reference to the value of fruit acid in cleansing the mouth and teeth. if you will rinse the mouth out at frequent intervals with the juice of an orange or eat part or all of an orange, you will be surprised at the cleansing influence of this acid fruit. almost any acid fruit will be of value, but the orange is perhaps the best for this purpose. the free use of water to insure alimentary cleanliness together with the acid fruit habit will form a very superior insurance for our teeth. finally, and of not least importance, the character of the diet has a great influence on the teeth. you cannot keep the teeth sound and strong if the foods you eat do not contain the material out of which teeth are built. if the food elements that build teeth and bone are lacking, you cannot expect the teeth to last long. a great hue and cry has been raised about the poor teeth of the school children of to-day, and an effort is being made to teach the children to brush their teeth. of course this is good as far as it goes, but it does not go far when the children are fed upon a diet that is defective. when you find the child of a poor family given a diet of little more than white bread and coffee you can absolutely depend upon it that his teeth are crumbling and decaying. no other result is possible, no matter if the greatest of care is used to keep the teeth well brushed and clean. therefore, my remarks in another chapter upon the influence of refined foods will apply particularly in the case of the teeth. a satisfactory supply of lime in the diet is especially necessary for building teeth and bone. whole-wheat bread will supply the material for building sound teeth, while oatmeal and other whole grain foods are almost equally satisfactory for this purpose. some women lose their teeth rapidly as a result of pregnancy, because the diet upon which they live is really a starvation diet so far as these important elements are concerned. eggs are rich in lime and elements required for building strong teeth, while vegetables and fruits in their natural state are valuable in this way. good milk is of value for its supply of lime and other organic minerals in the case of young children. furthermore, all natural foods that provide good exercise for the teeth through the necessity for mastication are valuable on this account for strengthening the teeth, as i have already said. dentistry is one of our most useful professions. but there would be need for few dentists if the suggestions given in this chapter were closely followed by men, women and children the whole country over. one may have strong teeth in practically every instance, as a result of proper care and suitable diet, just as he may have strong muscles, strong organs and strong nerves. chapter xii: how to eat civilization has brought with it a train of evils unknown in the natural life. there is no need, for instance, to tell a wild animal what to eat; his life is planned for him in advance. his food is supplied by nature and not superabundantly, so he is compelled to eat it in a manner to secure the greatest amount of vital vigor therefrom. hunger controls his eating, and therefore he always enjoys his food. if we were to eliminate many of the mechanical processes involved in the preparation of our foods, there would be little or no necessity for instruction in eating, for, if we ate our food in a natural state, we would be compelled to masticate it, and this is the fundamental requirement of healthy digestion. just here let me point out the importance of appetite. a food cannot possibly be of benefit unless it is thoroughly enjoyed. it must taste good. the more delicious a food tastes the more quickly and advantageously it will digest. the idea is frequently advanced that dieting must necessarily be unpleasant, for many think that a "diet" must consist of food that cannot possibly be eaten with enjoyment. this is a great mistake. diet of this character would indeed bring about harmful results in nearly every instance. the diet which will be of the most value is that which you can enjoy, confining your selection, of course, to wholesome articles of food. i cannot emphasize too strongly the extreme necessity for the enjoyment of your meals. do not under any circumstance ignore the demands of your taste in selecting your diet. your food must be thoroughly masticated as well as thoroughly enjoyed. this chewing should continue until the food becomes a liquid and actually passes down your throat involuntarily. food should never be swallowed hastily. swallowing should be an unconscious process associated with enjoyment; with a view to prolonging the pleasure of eating, each mouthful should be retained in the mouth until it is swallowed before you realize it. thorough mastication is absolutely necessary to the attainment of the very important requirements connected with the complete enjoyment of foods. now note the effect of prolonged enjoyment of food upon the digestive processes. when one is masticating an appetizing meal the digestive system is being prepared for the reception of this meal. the various glands of the stomach that perform such important work in digestion begin to pour their juices into the stomach; consequently when the food reaches this organ everything is ready for its reception. to begin with, as a result of thorough mastication and the action of the saliva, the food is already partly digested, and the stomach is ready to continue the process. the work is easy and satisfactory under such circumstances, and digestion continues unconsciously. you do not realize that you have a stomach. how often one hears a healthy man say that he has no conscious knowledge of the possession of such an organ! in other words, he has never had a pain or other unpleasant symptom located in its region. it is said on the other hand that the dyspeptic is so continuously and unpleasantly aware of the existence of this organ that he often thinks he is "all stomach." remember also the importance of a suitable mental attitude at meal-time. your mind should be occupied almost entirely with the pleasure of the meal itself. you should not be seriously diverted in any way. if for instance you are reading a newspaper or carrying on an engrossing conversation you are directly interfering with the digestive processes; for, as i have already said, a thorough enjoyment of the food is necessary to arouse to their greatest activity the glands which furnish the digestive juices. therefore, when meal-time comes around, devote yourself to the one single purpose of getting as much enjoyment as possible out of your food. if you are desirous of catching a train, do not make the mistake of bolting a meal. eat when you arrive at your destination, or eat on the train, when you can have the leisure to enjoy your food. remember that, with eating as with work, it is not how much but how well. if your time is limited it is better to eat only a small amount, and eat it properly, than to attempt to eat a large meal hurriedly. especially do not eat when you are angry or worried; do not allow anything to distract you at meal-time. if anything comes up that seriously mars your ability to enjoy your food it is far better to delay your meal or wait until the next meal, or until you can eat in accordance with these requirements. there can be no objection to light conversation, which requires no special amount of mental energy or concentration; in other words, any deviation can be recommended which does not seriously interfere with the enjoyment of your meal. music, for instance, if it is of a gentle, soothing character, or entertainment of any kind that is relaxing, is a helpful form of recreation. the "cabaret," if not carried to an extreme, is therefore a natural, well-founded institution. congenial company is also naturally advantageous in helping one to enjoy his meals. there has been much controversy as to whether or not one should drink during a meal. i have at all times condemned the usual habit of drinking at meal-time for the purpose of washing down food that is eaten hastily. for instance, it is not at all unusual with many people to take three or four mouthfuls of food, hastily swallow them, and then find a certain amount of liquid essential to avoid choking. i cannot too emphatically condemn a habit of this sort. i do, however, recommend the use of liquids during a meal when they are necessary to satisfy thirst. furthermore, it is of considerable importance to take some liquid during a meal if one is not in the habit of drinking freely of water between meals, since a certain amount of liquid is necessary to carry on the digestive process. when there is any digestive difficulty or when there is merely a weak digestion, hot water can be used to great advantage fifteen minutes or a half-hour before the meal. taking hot water in this manner cleanses the stomach and adds materially to the digestive capacity by stimulating the glands of the stomach. the quantity of water taken in this way may range from half a pint to a quart, depending upon one's physical condition. the amount of liquid taken during a meal must also be regulated by one's needs. for instance, if you are poorly nourished and apparently need more weight properly to round out your body, then an additional amount of liquid will often be of advantage, provided you do not take so much as actually to interfere with digestion. where increased bodily tissue is needed, therefore, in virtually every instance the free use of water during the meal will be of decided value; though one should always keep in mind the necessity of drinking these liquids warm or even hot if taking any quantity. the use of a large amount of cold water at meal-time is likely to be detrimental. there is a wide-spread custom of drinking ice-water during the meal. this is one of the most pernicious of all dietetic errors, since chilling of the stomach invariably retards digestion and favors dyspepsia. even water that is very cold, though not iced, is not desirable, unless used in very small amounts. also the use of icewater or extremely cold water between meals is inadvisable, since because of its low temperature one cannot comfortably drink enough of it to satisfy completely his bodily requirements. water that is only moderately cold or cool can be used liberally, and is always to be preferred in the case of overheating through violent exercise. it is usually advisable to drink water at the temperature that is most pleasant to you, though large quantities of cold water should always be avoided. and, as i have said, at meal-time, especially, if much water or other liquids are used they should be either warm or hot. without question, the greatest of all dietetic errors is to eat without appetite. it is nothing less than a crime against the stomach, and yet this practice is one of the most common of all those which contribute to the prevalence of dyspepsia in civilized communities. no animal, the human race excepted, would attempt to eat without the relish that absolutely depends upon the possession of a keen appetite. many thousands of people attempt to eat their meals regularly without regard to the demands of hunger merely because it is "meal-time." eating in such cases has only the excuse of habit, although frequently it is regarded as a duty. eating should never be regarded as a duty, nor should it be allowed to become a habit, for when not pleasurable it is not beneficial. one will often, hear the remark that one must "eat to keep up his strength." while this advice is fundamentally sound in a large sense under normal conditions and when a true appetite is present, yet there never was a greater delusion when it is applied to forced eating when the appetite is lacking. eating under such conditions does not keep up one's strength, but on the contrary actually impairs it by burdening the digestive system with food that cannot be properly assimilated. it is not what you eat but what you assimilate that keeps you strong, and digestion depends upon appetite and the enjoyment associated therewith. the question of enjoyment is really a question of appetite, and if you are not hungry and cannot relish the food keenly when meal-time comes it is certainly best to wait until the next meal or until you are hungry. every wild animal has sense enough to follow its natural inclination in this respect, but thousands of human beings go to the table because it is dinner-time, and force themselves to eat food that they do not desire simply because of the stupid delusion that continual and frequent eating is necessary for strength. the discussion of appetite brings up the question of the number of meals that is proper for each day. the prevailing system of three meals per day is a custom surviving from a time in which early rising and hard physical labor throughout a long day was the rule, especially in connection with out-of-door work. this does not mean, however, that three meals is always the best plan for civilized life in sedentary occupations. there are some wild races that eat only two meals per day, and there have been instances of hunters and even whole populations following the one-meal-per-day plan. naturally at the present time the occupation and the requirements of the individual would have much to do with the question. if one does hard work, has an appetite for three meals per day, and seems to thrive on that plan, it is the preferable one. if, however, you are a sedentary worker, and especially if you do not have an appetite for three meals per day and cannot thoroughly enjoy them, the two-meal-per-day plan would be much better. the two-mealper-day plan has often proven beneficial even when associated with the strenuous physical training required for athletic competition in racing, wrestling, boxing, marathon running and other vigorous sports. it is entirely a question of appetite. if you have no appetite for breakfast then follow the two-meal-per-day plan. i will say, however, that in many cases one can enjoy and profit by a breakfast of fruit. the question of how to eat is closely related to the question of how many meals one should take. overeating is a very prevalent failing. there is no question that large numbers eat themselves, as it were, into a condition of stupor. their energies are required for the disposal of the excessive quantity of food ingested, and they have no energy left for mental work or for physical activity. they are, so to speak, "food drunk." i am personally satisfied that the best cure for overeating is food in less frequent meals and the practice of masticating the food thoroughly in the manner that i have suggested. in a case of this kind the two-meal-per-day plan is also to be recommended. actual experience shows that those inclined to overeat do not eat any more at one meal when eating two meals than when eating three meals-they may possibly eat less, because of the more normal condition of the stomach. another good plan to pursue is the use of uncooked foods, or at least the adoption of a diet consisting in part of uncooked foods. it is entirely possible to eat too little of nourishing food, just as it is to eat too much. but one who lives a natural and active life, especially if out-of-doors a fair part of the time, is not likely to lack a good appetite nor to eat less than the required amount. good general health always brings with it a normal appetite. overeating, however, is no doubt in many cases due very largely to the inadequate character of the foods consumed. i am satisfied that if all our foods were eaten in their natural condition and if they perfectly supplied the needs of the body there would be no tendency toward overeating. the great trouble is that conventional methods of food preparation have such a destructive effect upon the nutritive value of the foods in common use that a healthy body often craves large quantities of diverse foods in order to get a sufficiency of certain elements which are lacking. the use of white bread is a case in point, for, as stated in another chapter, the best part of the wheat has been eliminated in the process of milling. furthermore, to a large extent the mineral salts are removed from our vegetables in the process of boiling; that is to say, when the water in which they were boiled is thrown away. the polishing of rice, the use of white flour in manufacturing macaroni, the refining of our sugar, and many other processes, are directly responsible for the almost universal habit of overeating. certain elements are taken out of the food, the body craves these elements, and in trying to secure adequate nourishment, one eats an excessive amount of the refined defective foods. chapter xiii: what to eat the suggestions offered in the previous chapter concerning the necessity for the enjoyment of food, give one a fairly clear idea as to what he should eat. in other words, he should select those foods that he thoroughly enjoys, keeping in mind the necessity of using only those that are at least reasonably wholesome. if you have a large variety from which to select, this will be to your advantage, provided you do not include too many foods at one meal. it is a good plan to get your variety from meal to meal and from day to day, but without including too many dishes at any one meal. one of the most remarkable cases of longevity with which i have ever come in contact proved in a very pointed way the value of this suggestion. this was a woman who had lived to be over eighty years of age. during the last forty years of her life she was as agile, as clearheaded and as capable as a young woman in the heyday of her youth. i am satisfied that to a large extent the unusual vitality possessed by this woman was due to her habit of eating but one article of food two meals each day, although occasionally she would eat only one. her meals were taken irregularly, because she would eat only when she was hungry. when she had a definite appetite it would nearly always indicate to her the particular food that she wanted. she would then prepare a meal of this food and thoroughly satisfy her appetite with it. nothing else was eaten at that meal. this woman naturally went through some very severe trials before she adopted this diet-indeed, a terrible lesson of some sort seems necessary to compel one to follow a strict dietetic regimen. at the age of forty she was a physical wreck, having been for years tortured with rheumatism. having vainly tried every other remedy, she finally became interested in diet, and through it finally overcame her difficulty. it might also be of interest in this connection to know that she never used salt, pepper, or condiments of any sort with her meals, and it would be well to emphasize that it is important to avoid the too free use of condiments and stimulating foods. we have used salt so long that our bodies seem adapted to it, and it is usually considered essential to the welfare of domestic stock; therefore it is a moot question as to whether it is advisable for human beings to avoid it altogether. yet the excessive use of it to which we are prone is certainly harmful. how is this to be avoided? if we eat our food in a hand, i have found that the longer you are without it the more you long for it, until the craving becomes much more intense than is the hunger of a man who fasts (the symptoms are those of a disease rather than of being hungry). among the uncivilized eskimos the dislike of salt is so strong that a saltiness imperceptible to me would prevent them from eating at all. this fact was often useful to me, and when our eskimo visitors threatened to eat us out of house and home we could put in a little pinch of salt, and thus husband our resources without seeming inhospitable. a man who tasted anything salty at our table would quickly bethink him that he had plenty of more palatable fare in his own house. on the score of what to eat i would reiterate what i have said about the use of foods in their natural condition. the refinement of various foods has made them entirely unfit for human consumption. of first importance without doubt is the use of the whole grain of the wheat for flour. wheat, as produced by the almighty, is practically a perfect food, containing all the elements required by the human body and in a proportion not very far from that found in the body. in modern methods of milling, however, the effort is made to eliminate everything in the wheat grain except the pure starch, which naturally makes a fine, smooth, white flour. the miller is not absolutely successful in his endeavor, but he does succeed in robbing the product of the natural state, that is in an uncooked form, salt can be more easily avoided, but cooking in many instances modifies the flavor to such an extent that salt seems necessary. i am not prepared to admit that it is a necessity, for i know of many who avoid the use of salt altogether and who have maintained unusual vital vigor. i have known of others, however, who have tried to eliminate salt from their diet and the results have been unsatisfactory. we may therefore say that in most cases the moderate use of salt can be recommended. one of the most interesting expressions of opinion on the subject of salt that i have seen was a statement by stefanson, the arctic explorer, in his "my quest in the arctic," in which he discusses the diet of the eskimos and their constitutional aversion to salt. "most people are in the habit of looking upon the articles of our customary diet, and especially upon salt, as necessities. we have not found them so. the longer you go without green foods and vegetables the less you long for them. salt i have found to behave like a narcotic poison; in other words, it is as hard to break off its use as it is hard to stop the use of tobacco. but after you have been a month or so without salt you cease to long for it, and after six months i have found the taste of meat boiled in salt water positively disagreeable. in the case of such a necessary element of food as fat on the other hand, i have found that the longer you are without it the more you long for it, until the craving becomes much more intense than is the hunger of a man who fasts (the symptoms are those of a disease rather than of being hungry). among the uncivilized eskimos the dislike of salt is so strong that a saltiness imperceptible to me would prevent them from eating at all. this fact was often useful to me, and when our eskimo visitors threatened to eat us out of house and home we could put in a little pinch of salt, and thus husband our resources without seeming inhospitable. a man who tasted anything salty at our table would quickly bethink him that he had plenty of more palatable fare in his own house." on the score of what to eat i would reiterate what i have said about the use of foods in their natural condition. the refinement of various foods has made them entirely unfit for human consumption. of first importance without doubt is the use of the whole grain of the wheat for flour. wheat, as produced by the almighty, is practically a perfect food, containing all the elements required by the human body and in a proportion not very far from that found in the body. in modern methods of milling, however, the effort is made to eliminate everything in the wheat grain except the pure starch, which naturally makes a fine, smooth, white flour. the miller is not absolutely successful in his endeavor, but he does succeed in robbing the product of the larger part of its food value, until it is absolutely incapable of sustaining life, and this serious mistake is without question the prime cause of the prevalence of constipation. the refining of rice by removing the coating, which contains organic salts, is another process by which is produced a food that is almost pure starch. the disease beriberi is now recognized as being due to a diet of polished rice. where the natural unpolished rice is used this disease is both prevented and cured. in refining our sugar a similar denaturing process 'is carried on. the same is true in the grinding of corn, and in preparing a whole host of other foods. the practice of "refining" is the great food crime of the age. in addition to this the average housewife adds to our difficulties when preparing vegetables and other foods, by "draining" off the water in which they are cooked, thus throwing away the invaluable mineral elements which have been dissolved in the liquor during the process of cooking. the ultimate result of these crimes of the manufacturer and mistakes of the cook, is that the people are to a large extent starved, as far as mineral salts are concerned, in spite of the enormous food supply and the payment of the highest prices. though bread is supposed to be the "staff of life," it might reasonably be termed the "staff of death" when it is made entirely from white flour and is depended upon exclusively for nourishment. it is well to point out also that bread of all kinds should be avoided in some cases of weak digestion. under such circumstances it often irritates the lining of the stomach and intestines. when symptoms of this kind are noticed bread must not be used-more especially when made with yeast. when the bread is made without yeast and is masticated very thoroughly it may do no harm. there are instances also in which there is a strong craving for white bread and when graham or whole-wheat bread is not appetizing. when one has an abundant variety of foods and the alimentary canal is unusually active the desire for white bread can be satisfied without harmful results. in fact when the diet is varied by numerous articles of food at one meal considerable white bread can be used if it is appetizing. those taking the treatment for constipation recommended in this book often stimulate the alimentary canal to such an extent that graham or whole-wheat products are slightly irritating in their effect. as long as such symptoms exist white bread can be used. remember, however, that whenever there is the slightest sign of constipation white flour products of all kinds should immediately be eliminated from the diet. as nearly as possible foods should be used in their natural condition. those that can be enjoyed when uncooked are more valuable when eaten without cooking. when cooking is necessary the food should be cooked in such a way that there is no waste nor loss of the natural elements. steaming and baking are both preferable in many cases to boiling; cooking in a double boiler may be especially recommended in the case of vegetables, as these are in such a case cooked in their own juices. therefore my most important suggestions on what to eat would be: first, to select only natural foods; and second, to avoid too much variety at one meal. as to what sort of a diet one should adopt, i might say that the proper answer to a question of this kind depends largely upon one's individual condition and requirements. unquestionably a perfect diet is furnished by nuts and fruits. from a theoretical standpoint this would appear to be ideal. i would say, however, that very few persons can be thoroughly nourished on a limited diet of this sort, and therefore it cannot be universally recommended. perhaps the next diet that closely approximates perfection would be a raw or uncooked diet. this would include all the foods that can be made palatable without cooking, such as nuts and fruits of all kinds, vegetable salads, cereals and dairy products. a diet of this sort can be continued indefinitely in some cases, and where one can be thoroughly nourished on this regimen it can be highly recommended. foods in their raw state possess a tremendous amount of vitality-building elements. they are live foods, consequently they give one life, energy, vivacity. one can usually fast longer with a smaller loss of weight and energy after a raw than after a cooked diet. but in many instances this diet does not maintain the weight and the bodily energies at high-water mark; consequently in such cases it often proves unsatisfactory, even where its first effects are pleasing to an unusual degree. nearly all restrictive diets are valuable for a short period where there is evidence of overeating. on this account many enthusiasts who adopt a restricted diet and who note their improved appearance and general increase of energy for a time, will be profoundly impressed with the idea that at last they have found a perfect diet. on account of their enthusiasm they will often continue such a strict dietetic regimen until it is productive of seriously harmful results. it should be kept in mind that any diet which is really adequate for all requirements will maintain your normal weight and your energy. in other words, you should feel well and look well, if your diet is as it should be. this is an invariable test, and can be depended upon absolutely. probably the next diet that can be recommended in many cases would be a meatless or vegetarian diet. there is absolutely no question as to the superiority of this plan over a regimen that includes meat, provided again that you can be fully nourished and that you feel energetic and capable. a vegetarian diet will usually make a better quality of tissue; you will have more endurance, and there is but little doubt that a healthy vegetarian will outlive a meat-eater, since his vital organs remain in a healthier condition for a longer period than those of one accustomed to a free use of meat. we must admit, however, that many cannot maintain their weight and keep their full allowance of energy on a vegetarian diet. where you find a vegetarian whose skin is white, whose lips are colorless, who is thin and seemingly in need of nourishment, you can rest assured that the diet is not agreeing with him. such persons in virtually every instance need animal food of some sort. it is therefore wise, if you are searching for a diet that is capable of developing in you the greatest degree of mental and physical efficiency, to make a careful study of your individual condition and requirements. after you have acquired sufficient knowledge on the subject it might even be well to do some experimenting, and in that way determine what particular diet is best suited to your needs. it is extremely difficult, however, for one to adopt a regimen which is radically different from that of those with whom he associates. you may have sufficient enthusiasm for a time to subsist on a nut-and-fruit diet or on an uncooked diet, but when your own family and friends are using other foods at all times the temptation to vary your own diet is sometimes too strong to resist, consequently you will be inclined gradually to resume the general regimen of those with whom you live. one can, however, maintain good health without being what might be termed a dietetic crank. to be sure, where one is suffering from a disease or is definitely in need of some special diet in order to secure certain results, a very rigid diet is of great importance and should be adhered to strictly. after such results have been achieved, however, and after normal health is regained, you can secure at almost any well supplied table a selection of foods which will furnish satisfactory nourishment. some intelligence in selection, however, is necessary. there are a few articles of food that it would always be well to avoid. for instance, nearly all white-flour products are to be condemned. this means not only bread but biscuits, cakes, crackers, and pastries made of white flour. unquestionably, if one is using meat freely, white-flour products are not nearly so harmful as when taken with a vegetarian diet. the meat supplies some of the deficiencies, though not all. at one time i had an experiment made which proved in a striking manner the defective character of white flour as a food. the subject tested the results of a fast of two weeks. he weighed himself before and after the fast and several times during its progress. he accurately determined his strength at all times, before, during, and at the completion of the fast. a considerable time thereafter he experimented with a diet of white-flour products for the same period of two weeks, eating white flour as commonly prepared, in the form of bread, cakes, etc. the result showed that he lost more weight and more strength while following the white-flour regimen than he had while fasting absolutely. this would seem to indicate that, in this case, at least, white-flour products were not a food, but a slowacting poison. among foods especially valuable i would call attention to green salads. if possible one should eat some food of this kind each day, more especially during warm weather. they are of great value as blood purifiers and they supply to a very large extent the mineral salts. various combinations can be used in the form of salads, and the most satisfactory dressing is probably a combination of olive oil and lemon juice. i do not recommend vinegar partly because it is seldom pure, and one never can tell what combination of chemicals it contains. lemon juice is preferable even to the best vinegar for the purpose of salad dressing. celery, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, water-cress, parsley, cucumbers, and other foods of this character are suitable for salad purposes. spinach, dandelion leaves, and other greens can be recommended in their cooked form, and it is unnecessary to add that virtually all cooked vegetables are of value. fruits of all kinds can be recommended for the same reasons that make the green salads so useful to the body. they are of the very greatest value where there is any tendency toward biliousness. in many cases of this kind where it is undesirable to undertake an absolute fast as a means of setting the stomach right and where there is a lack of appetite, a fruit fast can be highly recommended. this is simply an exclusive diet of fresh acid fruits, such as oranges, grapefruit, grapes, cherries, apples and other fresh fruits in season. it is especially important to know in such a case that these fruits should be eaten in their strictly natural condition, properly ripened and without the addition of sugar. as a general thing a sufficient allowance of fruit and green salads will so balance the diet that one is not likely to have any trouble even if he eats heartily of the foods served at the ordinary table. it would be well also to remember that acid fruits have valuable antiseptic (cleansing) qualities. they keep the mouth and teeth as well as the alimentary canal in a wholesome state. in fact the frequent use of acid fruit, more especially the orange, is of great value in counteracting the effects of digestive difficulties on the mouth and teeth. if a small piece of orange is taken whenever there is an unpleasant taste in the mouth it will destroy the germ life that is being rapidly propagated under such circumstances, though such symptoms indicate also the need of acid fruit of some sort by the stomach. especially is this required if there is a craving for fruit of this sort. in such cases the rule against eating between meals may be disregarded. whenever you have a strong desire for acid fruits between meals you are usually safe in using them. in fact they are often sorely needed under such circumstances to assist in digesting a meal that may have been eaten some hours previously. indigestion which leaves the mouth with a foul, unpleasant taste is often noticed on awakening at night after a hearty meal the evening before. on such occasions a few swallows of water, or whatever is needed to satisfy thirst, and a small quantity of acid fruit, like the orange, are of great value. they should be well mixed and moved about in the mouth until the acid comes in contact with every part of the mouth and teeth. when there is the slightest sign of digestive difficulties i would advise that each meal be completed with a small quantity of fruit. if you stop your meal at a time when you can enjoy the taste of acid fruit it is usually a definite proof that you have not overeaten. remember too that the orange, lemon and any fruit with a strong acid flavor is a splendid tooth or mouth wash, and it need not be ejected as an ordinary wash. it can be enjoyed and swallowed after mouth and teeth have been cleansed. therefore the frequent use of oranges as a dentifrice is a habit of great value. use them on retiring and on rising and the results will be unusually pleasing. what foods can be used as substitutes for meat? this is a question that assumes considerable importance to those desirous of testing the vegetarian diet. i may say that almost any food that is wholesome and hearty in character and which is craved by your appetite will make a satisfactory meat substitute. those containing a large percentage of protein are particularly desirable for this purpose. the following list will give one a general idea as to the nature of these foods: cereals of all kinds, either in the whole grain or in the form of flaked grain, contain a fair percentage of protein and may be recommended for the purpose, although refined flour or polished grains are of no value in this way. bread made from the whole wheat or any of the whole grains may be recommended. the "war bread" used in europe since the outbreak of the great war is of this type. the pumpernickel and "black breads" used in various parts of europe are so valuable from a nutritive standpoint that one can live on them entirely. many of the farming and peasant classes of europe live almost exclusively on breads of this type. nearly all the prepared foods ordinarily referred to as breakfast foods, and which are made up of whole grains of wheat, corn, oats or barley would come under this class. no breakfast food made of only a part of the wheat would be recommended for this purpose. all kinds of beans are splendid meat substitutes, including navy beans, lima beans and kidney beans. they are what one may call hearty foods and as a rule one should lead a fairly active life to enjoy and digest them satisfactorily. the same may be said of dried peas. lentils belong in the same class and are very similar to the bean in its nourishing elements. beans, peas and lentils form a class known as the legumes, and contain a high percentage of protein. nuts of all kinds make splendid meat substitutes, though they may sometimes be found rich for a weak stomach. they need to be used in small quantities and should be eaten only at meal-time. peanuts really belong to the legume family, but are quite as good as any kind of nuts. the only mistake in their use lies in the habit of eating them between meals. peanut butter and nut butters are of value. when nuts are easily digested they are satisfactory in every way. perhaps the most popular meat substitute is the egg. do not, however, entertain the idea that you are not eating any meat products when eggs are included in your diet. eggs must be classed as animal food, but they are very nourishing. they contain a good supply of lime, sulphur, iron, phosphorus and other mineral salts in addition to their protein and fats. it may also be said that milk should be classed as animal food, though it is of special value from a nutritive standpoint. milk, cheese and other milk products naturally make good substitutes for meat. butter is a practically pure fat and will not take the place of meat in supplying protein, although it will take the place of the fatty portions of the meat. cheese is often appropriately placed at the last part of the meal, and the statement that it will to a certain extent help to digest a hearty meal if but a small quantity is taken has been proven accurate in numerous cases. as a milk product buttermilk may be particularly recommended as a meat substitute if one uses a considerable quantity of it. we should distinguish, however, between real buttermilk and the fermented milk or sour milk which is often sold in cities under the name of buttermilk. fermented milk is highly recommended for all food purposes and is undoubtedly conducive to health, but from the standpoint of nutrition it has practically the same value as fresh milk. the true buttermilk, however, from which the fat-forming elements have been extracted in the form of butter, is a more purely protein product. if you use sufficient buttermilk, that is to say, two quarts or more a day, you can rest assured that you will not crave meat. chapter xiv: foods in the cure of chronic constipation constipation is probably the beginning of nearly all human ailments. there are a few exceptions but not many. it is a tremendous foe to vitality. pure blood is absolutely impossible when one is suffering from this complaint. active functioning of the alimentary canal is absolutely essential if the blood stream is to contain those elements essential to superior vital vigor. the regimen which i suggested in the chapter on cleansing and stimulating the alimentary canal will undoubtedly be sufficient to overcome any trouble of this character provided there are not dietetic causes that are serious in nature. where the disorder is chronic, and especially when it has extended over a term of many years, a comprehensive dietetic regimen may be necessary in addition to the adoption of measures previously suggested. the direct cause of constipation is a relaxed and weakened condition of the muscular walls of the stomach and intestines. a certain degree of strength of these muscular structures is essential properly to facilitate digestion, assimilation and elimination. the lack of tone in these muscles is chiefly due in nearly all cases to what might be termed a concentrated diet. our foods have been too much refined. as previously stated they are not eaten as they were created, but have been put through a prolonged milling process or other method of preparation which not only eliminates many elements of nourishment but also breaks up the food into the most minute particles, thus eliminating the rough, coarse and fibrous material in the food which ordinarily arouses what is known as the peristaltic activity of the bowels. our methods of food preparation also materially lessen the necessity for prolonged and thorough mastication. the habit of hurriedly swallowing our food undoubtedly lessens its vitality-building possibilities, besides materially affecting the strength and general hardiness of the teeth. constipation is also caused in numerous instances by a lack of liquids. men and women do not use sufficient water. one frequently loses what might be termed the water-drinking habit, usually as a result of sedentary occupations. the method of remedying constipation referred to in chapter vi pointedly illustrates the amazing value of water in remedying conditions of this kind. it is well, however, to remember the necessity for using at least a reasonable quantity of water throughout the entire day. if you do not drink water quite freely between meals then it is advisable and actually necessary to use a certain quantity with your meals. those who drink tea and coffee freely seem to recognize the need of this instinctively. the choice of these beverages, however, is distinctly bad. tea and coffee are destructive to both nerves and health, but aside from these stimulating drinks one can use almost any wholesome beverage at meal-time in order to supply his cravings in this direction. fruit drinks are excellent. i have referred to this question in a previous chapter. diet naturally has a tremendous influence on alimentary activity. white bread and white-flour products constitute the most serious cause of constipation. this defective food is lacking in the elements necessary to give life and vitality to the body, because the valuable covering of the grain has been removed in the milling process, while the life germ of the wheat has also been eliminated. the bran, which consists of several minute layers covering the wheat berry, has a distinct value in stimulating peristaltic action, and when it is removed, the resulting white flour must be a defective food. one of the first dietetic changes required in remedying constipation, therefore, is to eliminate white-flour products from the diet. graham bread, or that made from the whole wheat, or any of the whole grains, rye, oats, barley, corn, is a satisfactory article of diet, and will often remedy constipation without resort to any other dietetic change. what might be termed waste products, or fibrous material in food, are found especially valuable in promoting digestion and active functioning of the bowels. the woody fiber found in vegetables is most valuable. it is sometimes suggested that one should simply consume the juice of his foods but not the pulp. this pulp or fibrous matter, however, is especially important. following this requirement of bulk or waste in our food, we find such remedies as sand, refined coal oil, a mineral product that passes through the alimentary canal without change, and ordinary black dirt, which is usually taken in its dried form. when using sand, it should be sterilized, and the grains should be rounded and worn smooth by the action of waves or running water. do not use that in which the grains are sharp-edged. one or more of these products are valuable as a laxative and the devitalizing after-effects of a drug cathartic will be absent. they are, however, not by any means as pleasant as food laxatives, and remedies of this sort should not be employed except as a temporary expedient. whole grains of various kinds, wheat, rye, oats and barley, simmered in hot water for a long time until properly softened, not only afford a high degree of nourishment, but will be found of special value as a means of remedying constipation. they are best if used in their natural state, just as they come from the farm. they are more valuable when eaten raw with fruit or cream, or in some other palatable form, than when cooked. when flaked or crushed, as in the case of ordinary oatmeal, they may be used with figs, dates, raisins and a little cream, or they may be eaten with a little honey. one bowl of this class of food, either raw or cooked, each day, is very effective in overcoming constipation. salads of various kinds not only have great value by way of supplying food for the nerves, but they are also worth while for their mild laxative effect. i would recommend all forms of uncooked green food, chiefly to be used in the form of salads, such as lettuce, tomatoes, onions, celery, radishes, cucumbers, cold slaw, water-cress, parsley, and the like. all cooked green vegetables such as spinach, asparagus, string beans, fresh green peas, brussels sprouts, dandelion leaves, greens, cabbages, mushrooms and other foods of this sort will likewise be helpful. fruits are of even greater value for their laxative qualities. one should use them freely for ordinary health building, but especially when suffering from this complaint. apples, oranges, grapefruit, peaches, plums, grapes, and various berries are exceptionally good for increasing alimentary activity, though all kinds of fruit are valuable. prunes and figs are particularly recommended. such acid fruits as lemons, oranges and grapefruit are valuable not only for their stimulating qualities in connection with constipation, but also because of their antiseptic influence. cheese is very constipating to those inclined in this direction. all forms of cheese and food combinations containing it should be avoided. spaghetti and macaroni prepared in this way are especially inadvisable, though it may be said that even when served without cheese spaghetti and macaroni are constipating. rice in the ordinary polished form, as usually sold, is practically a pure starch and should be avoided. the same applies to tapioca, sago and foods of this character. needless to say white crackers, cookies and cakes are to be classed with white bread. one should use brown sugar in place of white wherever possible, or use the pure new orleans molasses. it is often difficult to secure this, however, inasmuch as most of the molasses on the market is made up chiefly of glucose or corn syrup, and often contains harmful chemical preservatives. it is best to avoid sugar altogether and to use honey for all purposes of sweetening, as honey is less inclined to fermentation. milk in some cases is inclined to produce constipation when used in connection with the ordinary diet. an exclusive and full diet of milk, is rarely constipating except during the first few days of the diet, but when milk is added to the ordinary foods, it frequently has a tendency in this direction. buttermilk or fermented milk can often be used to advantage if sweet milk should prove constipating to the patient. muscular weakness and defective circulation are prominent causes of constipation in many cases. this accounts for this disorder being found so frequently among sedentary workers. inactivity, the cause of many ills, is particularly prominent in contributing to this trouble. therefore muscular exercise is perhaps a most effective means of permanently remedying constipation. exercise has a direct mechanical influence upon the entire alimentary canal. the contraction of the abdominal muscles and the bending or other movements of the trunk of the body produce a certain amount of movement in and pressure upon the digestive organs in a direct mechanical way. walking, for instance, is of extraordinary value in remedying this difficulty because of its stimulating influence upon the entire functional system, and the slight jar of each step without doubt has a direct mechanical effect. walking furthermore is a tremendous factor in the building of vitality and this helps indirectly in remedying constipation. but there are also various special exercises that particularly affect the alimentary canal. bending forward and backward and from side to side and also various twisting movements of the trunk have a special influence in this direction. they actually massage the internal organs, and this means a great deal where there is any digestive weakness or lack of activity in the bowels. what i term inner-strength exercises, or as they may also be called, pressure movements, are also of considerable value. an example of this type of exercise will be found in placing the right forearm across the stomach, grasping the right wrist with the left hand, and then with the strength of both arms pressing vigorously inward upon the stomach for a moment. now relax and repeat. bringing up the right knee and left knee alternately, with strong pressure, using vigorously the strength of the arms against the abdominal region, is also a good example of this type of exercise, which has proven very effective in numerous cases. other exercises of this kind ( see chapter xv) can be applied to all parts of the upper body with great advantage to the inner organs, since such movements are of remarkable value in stimulating alimentary activity. in line with exercise of this kind, massage and percussion treatment of the abdominal region is likewise effective. the massage should be deep and may be administered by the closed fist. a wide circular movement is advantageous for this purpose, the hand being moved in the direction of the hands of a clock, that is to say, up the right side, across, down the left side and continuing around in that manner. rolling a baseball around in the same manner, pressing deeply though without strain, will afford an excellent form of massage for this particular purpose. the percussion treatment that i have suggested consists in alternate tapping or striking this region of the body with both hands. a chopping movement, using the outside edge of the hands, is very effective, and if you are very vigorous, the closed fist may be used. striking repeatedly and alternately with the two fists, go over the entire region of the stomach and abdomen. this can be done gently or vigorously, according to your condition, and it is an invaluable and effective means of stimulating peristalsis and functional vigor. mechanical vibration may also be suggested. cathartics are always to be condemned. the ordinary cathartic or laxative acts by reason of its irritating qualities. as a rule it abstracts the water from the intestinal walls, and the adjacent tissues, and the ultimate effect is to leave one in worse condition than before. those who have been accustomed to the drug treatment of constipation, usually find the condition growing continuously more stubborn. larger and larger doses of the cathartic must be taken to secure results until the function is practically paralyzed. there could be no greater mistake. if some laxative is required and sand cannot be used, the best remedy is ordinary table salt. stir up a level teaspoonful in a glass of water and drink it. this has a mild laxative action. or take daily two to four tablespoonfuls of ordinary bran in a glass of water. this bran may also be stirred into soups and cereals or mixed with whole-wheat flour when making bread. olive oil also should be used freely. as an emergency treatment, however, the enema is most satisfactory, and when employed it is best to do it thoroughly. i do not advocate the regular and continuous use of this measure. one should not come to depend upon it. a natural action is desirable, and this can invariably be brought about by a proper diet, as above suggested, by exercise and by a sufficient amount of water. the enema or colonflushing should be used only when absolutely necessary, though in case of acute disease, where rapid purification is essential, the enema is imperatively demanded, and no household should be without an outfit for giving this treatment. to some the continuous use of the colon-flushing treatment is inclined to be debilitating and in rare cases complaints have been made that it dilates the colon and weakens its muscular structures. this is occasionally true in the case of the hot enema. a fairly cool enema is less objectionable, while a cold enema has a decided tonic effect in contracting and strengthening the peristaltic muscles. the cold enema is less effective as a cleansing agent, as it does not have the relaxing effect of the hot enema. in most cases an enema of neutral temperature, or at about that of the body, may be suggested, though if one has been using this treatment very much it would be better to use either a cool or cold enema, if strong enough, in order to secure its contracting and tonic effect. if the cold water causes cramps one should modify the temperature. usually it is best to use plain water for the enema. in a case of illness where quick and radical results are required, a hot soap-suds enema may be suggested, but you should remember that this always has the effect of removing the natural oils and is inclined to leave the colon in an irritated condition. a saline solution is to be especially commended where there is a serious catarrhal condition of the intestines, or where there is much inflammation or irritation, such as might be manifested in extreme cases by bloody stools. for a normal saline solution use one teaspoonful of ordinary salt to a quart of water, or four teaspoonfuls to a four-quart enema. glycerin is frequently suggested, but it is not to be generally recommended. if one follows these methods persistently, constipation, even in its most aggravated forms, can be overcome. in some instances almost any one of the suggestions offered will bring about the results desired, but in a chronic case one should depend not on one but on a combination of all of these various remedial measures. the improvement in the condition of your skin, in the purity of your blood, and in the degree of energy that you will enjoy will more than repay you for your efforts in following the various suggestions made for cleansing, strengthening, and vitalizing the alimentary canal. chapter xv: pressure movements for building inner strength several years ago i discovered a unique and very effective means of strengthening the heart, lungs, stomach and other internal organs. i arranged a system of lessons, consisting of various pressure movements, which i termed an inner strength course. as my experience with this course had been limited, i refrained at the time from presenting its fundamental theories to the general public. i issued the course in a series of four lessons, and the strength of each applicant was ascertained through questions before the course was sent to him. the experience with several hundred students, however, has so thoroughly confirmed the value of this method of internal vitality building that i am now in a position where i can present the ideas upon which it is based to the general public. the usual price of this course was five dollars, and several thousand courses were sold at this price, each student naturally receiving a certain amount of personal attention. the same ideas, however, are presented in this chapter, with the warning that those who use the pressure exercises recommended must take care to avoid pressing upon the internal organs beyond their resisting power. the various forms of pressure movements recommended are clearly illustrated and those who are not especially strong should begin with a very mild pressure and with the open hand placed upon the abdomen or chest, though where ordinary or unusual strength is possessed, the side of the open or closed hand could be used. these exercises are especially valuable for strengthening the heart where the pressure movements are used very freely near this particular organ. they can be highly recommended for strengthening the stomach though they should not be used immediately after a meal. i referred to their value in the chapter on constipation in connection with the treatment of this ailment. after a long trial this system of increasing the internal strength is highly recommended, and will be found of special value as a means of varying the health-building methods that may be adopted for securing throbbing vitality. they are not a necessary part of the plan of body building especially recommended in this volume, but are presented merely as a valuable means of varying your efforts in working for increased vitality. it is an interesting fact that in some forms of athletics, the body is subjected to a certain amount of internal stimulation similar to that which i have systematized in these movements. this is especially true in wrestling, where the vital organism is often compelled to endure a great deal of pressure of this kind. the same is true of american football, although this is too violent for those who are not in an unusually vigorous condition. to suit these varying degrees of strength i have arranged these movements so that the first series (a) is comparatively mild. those who are not already vigorous can probably use the advanced form of treatment, but in most cases it will be best to take them up gradually. in cases of rupture, or where the abdominal region is weak, there is a possibility of injury if one makes the movements too vigorous. the first series, however, in which the open palm of the hand is used, is quite safe in all cases, if reasonable care is used. in each of these pressure movements remember that the pressure should be applied for one moment only, and then relaxed, repeating the pressure and moving the position of the hands in accordance with the directions accompanying each photograph. when a feeling of pain or great tenderness is noted in pressing upon any part of the body, this should be regarded as a warning that the pressure is not to be repeated. if there is only a feeling of uneasiness you can usually continue with the treatment and the discomfort will disappear in practically every instance. and while an acute sense of pain indicates the necessity for avoiding pressure on that particular part, yet it is sometimes a good plan to exert the pressure upon adjacent or surrounding parts, thereby influencing the circulation, and continuing the treatment until the inflammation which is the cause of the pain gradually disappears. one should be careful to exercise moderation in all cases, however. the second series (b) in which the closed hand is used is somewhat more vigorous, and this is made still more energetic by grasping the first hand with the other so that the pressure may be applied with the strength of both the arms. as the student progresses, the number of times that pressure is applied at each part of the body may be increased, so that at the conclusion of the treatment he may feel thoroughly tired, thus showing that he is making good progress toward the goal in view. the third series (c) includes movements especially intended for stimulating the functional regions from the back of the body, and should be given close attention. they are especially valuable for strengthening the kidneys. the last and most vigorous of the movements (series d ) are especially powerful in their influence upon the organs lying within the chest as well as upon those beneath the diaphragm. the heart and lungs will be very effectually stimulated and strengthened in this way. in chronic bronchitis, coughs and colds on the lungs these movements applied to the chest will be very helpful, besides directly strengthening these parts. you can absolutely depend upon it that when you have reached a condition in which you can exert the most vigorous pressure upon all of these parts, and do it with comfort and pleasurable results, your "department of the interior" is in a strong and healthy condition. you will find a radical change in the entire internal organism. you will find that the abdominal organs feel more solid and substantial, while the muscular walls of this region are far stronger. you will have a sense of strength in this region, and this is absolutely the case in so far as the external muscles of this part of the body are concerned. but the more valuable gain will be in the strength of the organs themselves. these organs are partly muscular in character, and they are firm and strong, or soft and flaccid, in accordance with the intelligent consideration that they receive and the amount of exercise given them. before long you should be able to use almost your entire strength in exerting pressure, and feel nothing but beneficial results. but when doing this it may be well to change the position of the hand slightly for each application of pressure, rather than to repeat such strenuous treatment so many times in one spot. the idea is to exert pressure throughout the entire region of the abdomen, chest, sides and back. it may occur to the reader that this form of exercise for the vital organs has a certain distant similarity to some features of massage treatment, known as deep massage. however, this method is much more vigorous than any form of massage, and is of a character to build a degree of real internal strength that cannot be attained through massage of any kind. and it has the advantage of being convenient for self-application. after a time you may be able to originate pressure movements of your own. one of my friends writes that he has used a similar idea associated with a vibratory motion. he slightly agitates the hand in different directions while pressing inwards. this is well worth a trial, and it partakes very much of the nature of massage. another good practice is to inhale a deep breath and then while holding this breath apply pressure all along the central portion of the abdominal region, from the breastbone downwards, from ten to twenty times. then, without exhaling the breath, draw in all the additional air you can and repeat the pressure movements six to twelve times, after which you may be able to take in still more air. one should be careful not to carry this holding of the breath too far. at the first signs of discomfort the breath should be exhaled quickly. chapter xvi: blood purification if one could maintain his blood in absolute purity disease would be virtually impossible. the blood is the life. you are what you are through the influence of the blood that circulates throughout your entire body. now, a proper supply of pure blood, as previously stated, depends first of all upon proper digestion and assimilation. this involves naturally a strengthening diet with a supply of foods that contain all of the elements required by the body and which will permit of a pure and perfect condition of the blood. next in importance are the chemical changes which take place in this life-giving fluid as it passes through the lungs. following this, the purity of the life stream depends upon the various organs that have to do with elimination; that is to say, the throwing off from the blood of the various accumulated wastes and poisons that are inimical to life. now you might call this the bloodpurifying process. the removal of these various waste elements from the blood depends entirely upon the proper activity of the depurating organs. i have already referred to the great importance of an active alimentary canal. you might say that the lower part of the alimentary canal is the sewer of the body. it removes a large amount of the impurities. in some cases of fasting that i have personally supervised, there has been a daily action of the bowels merely from the waste matter that has accumulated. the debris that is removed from the body in this way does not by any means consist entirely of the remains of food that is not absorbed by the circulatory system. the blood is purified to a large extent by the various waste elements that seek the alimentary canal for an outlet. if these waste products were allowed to remain in the circulation they would produce seriously injurious results. therefore, in the general scheme of blood purification an active alimentary canal is of first importance. i may say that proper breathing, together with the facilitation of this function through active exercise, is the next feature of importance in blood purification. following this we can without doubt reasonably maintain that a certain amount of activity of the kidneys is desired. this will nearly always be accomplished if one drinks the amount of water which is essential to satisfy a natural thirst. remember, however, that modern habits are often inclined partially to eliminate or entirely to destroy what one might call a natural thirst. for instance, there are various sedentary occupations in which one becomes so absorbed in his work that the desire for water will be ignored, and where this mistake is made for a long period, one acquires the habit of going without water, and consequently the natural desire is to a large extent lost. in such cases, it is even important to bring back the appetite for water. have a glass of water at hand and take a few swallows now and then. or, what would be better yet, carry out the suggestion which i have given in a former chapter on the drinking of hot water. that will usually supply the system with the proper amount of liquid necessary to insure normal activity of the kidneys. the next means of blood purification is one which rarely receives a great amount of attention. i refer to the eliminative function of the skin. we have more definite control over and can more easily influence this particular channel of elimination than any other. the skin unquestionably throws off a tremendous amount of impurities. where but little attention is given it, where one bathes at infrequent intervals and to a large extent smothers the skin with a surplus amount of clothing, the activity of the eliminative function of the skin is greatly reduced. there are various means at hand for stimulating the activity of the skin which are of unusual value in connection with blood purification. one of the simplest methods both of improvising the texture of the skin and accelerating its functional processes is found in dry friction. this friction can be applied with the palm of the hand, with a rough towel, or with friction brushes. in order to secure the greatest advantages of a friction bath it is advisable to brush or rub the surface of every part of the body until it assumes a pinkish glow from the increased peripheral circulation induced by the friction. where the skin is rough or covered with pimples this suggestion is of especial value. when using friction brushes for this purpose one should not attempt to use very stiff brushes in the beginning, for they will scratch too much. soft, fair skins usually cannot stand such rough treatment as well as can a thicker skin, or one which is oily in character. in many cases a dry turkish bath towel will answer the purpose splendidly. if the skin is rather tender it suffices to use the palms of both hands. after becoming accustomed to the friction, however, you will find that you will be able to enjoy stiffer brushes and i would suggest using a fairly stiff brush so long as it is not too uncomfortable. you will find that as you become accustomed to the treatment the skin will become softer and smoother as a result. also it will become more active. this dry friction bath may be taken each morning following your exercises. if you take a cold bath it should follow the friction. first exercise, then employ the friction rub, and then bathe. i would suggest that from five to ten minutes at least be devoted to this friction. it will furnish some exercise in connection with the rubbing, will quicken the general circulation, and will give you that warmth of body which makes the cold bath desirable and delightful. air baths are likewise valuable as a means of promoting activity in the eliminative function of the skin. primitive man, living in a state of nature, was not burdened with clothing. there was nothing to interfere with the healthy activity of his epidermis. there can be no question that the smothering of the skin by our clothing has much to do with defective elimination of wastes, and the more nearly we can avoid clothing, or the less clothing we can wear, the better. when possible, therefore, and especially in warm weather, it is advisable to remove all clothing and let the air come in contact with the surface of the body. this not only has a pronounced effect upon the purification of the blood but it likewise has a tonic effect upon the nervous system. in the same way the friction rub has a stimulating effect upon the nerves. this is due to the fact that in the skin are located a million or more of tiny nerve endings or so-called "end organs" of the nerves. these peripheral nerve endings are naturally influenced by all conditions that affect the skin, whether in the form of friction, air baths, cold baths, or baths of other temperatures. the air bath, therefore, has a splendid tonic effect and may be particularly recommended for those suffering with "nerves." sun baths are especially effective as a means of stimulating activity of the skin, and promoting elimination. sun baths likewise have a very powerful influence upon the entire organism inasmuch as they stimulate metabolism or cell-activity. they directly affect the circulation and promote the formation of red corpuscles. the sun is the centre of all energy and life upon this earth. it is our great vitalizing and life-giving principle, both in the realms of animal life and plant life. it is only natural, therefore, that sun baths should have a profound influence upon the body. a word of caution, however, is required because of the tremendous power of the sun and its powerful chemical effect when sun bathing is carried too far. those of very fair skins particularly need to be careful. brunettes, with considerable pigment of the skin can stand a great deal of sunlight without harm, but light-skinned persons, while needing a certain amount of sunlight, should not expose themselves for too long a time to the midday sun in summer, or at least not until they have gradually become sufficiently tanned to do so. everyone knows the painful character of a sunburn. this only illustrates the powerful chemical effect of the sun's rays. in taking sun baths one should very gradually accustom himself to the sunshine until he is so tanned that the pigment in his skin will protect him. the short or chemical rays of the sun are actually destructive to white men in the tropics. in may, june and july they have a pronounced chemical effect even in our own latitude. they are stimulating up to a certain point, but beyond that point one should be careful. i may say, therefore, that brunettes in summer may take sun baths even at noon, but blondes should take them preferably before nine or ten o'clock in the morning or after three o'clock in the afternoon. in winter, however, when the sun's rays are more slanting, the sun baths can be taken even by the blondes at any time. and because of the more limited amount of sunlight in winter, special attention should be given to sun bathing during that season. everyone needs a certain amount of sunlight, and if you cannot take a sun bath regularly every day you should at least wear clothing of a character that will permit the light-rays of the sun to penetrate. i will refer to this again, however, in the chapter on the subject of clothing. after all that we can say in regard to these various methods of stimulating the skin there is really nothing so effective as active exercise for those who are strong enough to take a sufficient amount of it. exercise, so far as function of the skin is concerned, is valuable because of the copious perspiration which is induced when one gets enough of it. in these days great numbers of people no longer "earn their bread by the sweat of their brow," and their health suffers in consequence. if you do not have to perform such an amount of physical labor as will promote free perspiration, then for the sake of acquiring the very purest quality of blood your special exercise should be sufficiently active and continuous to bring about free perspiration. there is really nothing so effective as a good old-fashioned "sweat" for rapidly purifying the blood. anyone who perspires each and every day as a result of physical activity, and whose habits are fairly satisfactory in other respects, can depend upon enjoying absolutely pure blood, or a condition which is not far from it. it does not matter what form of physical activity is employed to bring about this result. it may take the form of work that is useful and productive in character, or it may be play that is sufficiently active to cause deep, free breathing and bring out the perspiration. for those who are vigorous enough, cross-country running, wrestling, boxing, tennis and other games which involve real muscular effort continued for some time, will all prove satisfactory for this purpose. if you are anxious to purify your blood in cold weather it might be well to wear a good heavy sweater while taking such exercise in order to maintain a marked degree of warmth and thus bring out the perspiration in plentiful quantities. it is always well to avoid becoming chilled too quickly after exercise of this kind. it is not alone in stimulating the eliminative function of the skin that exercise has a blood-purifying effect; it accelerates all the functions of the body, it stimulates greater activity of the lungs and of the kidneys. it promotes such an active circulation through all the minute structures of the body that accumulations of waste and dead matter are taken up and swept on to be thrown out through the natural channels of elimination. under conditions of physical stagnation, when the circulation is less active, much of this waste matter tends to remain in the tissues of the body, accumulating and interfering with cell activity and normal functioning in general. the vigorous circulation of the blood induced by exercise gradually has the effect of flushing out all of the bodily tissues, and in that way has an internal cleansing effect that cannot be attained by any other means. in another chapter i have referred to the powerful influence of the drinking of hot water in connection with exercise as a means of promoting a more free circulation, but exercise under any circumstances tends to the same result, and for this reason as well as because of the perspiration brought about, exercise must be regarded as perhaps the most important of all measures for blood purification. no man can be continuously healthy without exercise. no man or woman can be internally clean, in the strictist sense, without a proper amount of daily exercise. however, for those who are not strong enough to take a large amount of exercise, and who cannot in this way bring about free perspiration, other methods of accelerating the activity of the pores of the skin may be employed. i have already referred to the influence of air baths, friction baths and sun baths. remember that through these agencies the pores may be made very active without any apparent result in the form of liquid perspiration, for under ordinary conditions perspiration evaporates and the body may not become wet. it is only when one perspires very rapidly that perspiration is manifested in the moistening of the skin. when taking your air baths there may be marked activity of the skin without any appearance of "sweat." various forms of bathing have the effect of inducing rapid elimination. russian and turkish baths are commonly used for this purpose, and every "man about town" knows the value of russian and turkish baths as a means of clearing his system and even of "clearing his head" through the profuse perspiration induced by the treatment. there is no question that these baths are effective in this direction, though it may be said that they are only a poor substitute for daily exercise as a blood-purifying measure. the man who neglects his requirements in the way of physical activity may strive to make up for it by a turkish bath, but cannot get the same results, although it is true he can accomplish a great deal in this way. the great objection to turkish and russian bath establishments is to be found in the unsatisfactory ventilation usual in such places. as a rule the russian or vapor bath is to be preferred to the turkish, or dry, hot air. especially if one is not very strong the steam bath is preferable. if one is vigorous, however, and has a strong heart, the dry hot air room will be very effective. naturally the "rubbing" and other adjunctive treatment in the turkish bath establishment are all beneficial. the influence of these measures (the russian and turkish baths) in purifying the blood may be secured at home through the agency of other baths. a cabinet bath in the home will be equally effective in providing either a steam bath or a dry, hot-air bath. naturally, a shower, or at least a quick sponging with cold water, should follow all such baths. if there is no bath cabinet in the home beneficial results can be secured by means of a hot-water bath. hot water has a profound influence upon the elimination of wastes and impurities through the skin. in cases of kidney disease, where the kidneys are unable to perform their work, it is often possible to keep one alive by making the skin do the work of the kidneys through frequent hot baths. the tub should be filled with hot water at a temperature of from 105 up to 112 or 115 degrees fahrenheit, that is to say, as hot as it can be endured, and one should remain in this bath from ten to twenty minutes, or as long as one's condition will permit. it may be a good plan to get into the water at a lower temperature, for instance, starting with water at 102 to 104 degrees, then afterwards adding hot water so as to raise the temperature to 108 or 112 degrees, or even higher. it is really necessary to use a bath thermometer (they can be obtained at a cost of ten or fifteen cents in any drug store) to regulate the temperature of the water. sufferers from any derangement of the heart or those handicapped by serious vital depletion should not use the water too hot. in such cases it may be well to limit the temperature to 103 to 105 degrees and to limit the duration of the bath to five or ten minutes. in such cases it will be necessary to take the bath more frequently, perhaps each evening, in order to secure results in the way of active elimination. if one is strong enough, however, and merely wishes to purify the blood one may be able to stay in the water from twenty to thirty minutes and to raise the temperature of the bath to 115 degrees or more. the hot bath is much used in japan and the natives there almost parboil themselves, using water at a temperature as high as 120 degrees. but it is not necessary to go to such extremes. it is most important that one should leave the bath immediately upon feeling any sense of weakness, dizziness or discomfort of any sort. if you feel oppressed by a sense of overheating, do not linger in the water but get out of it immediately. you will usually find that your face will perspire freely within a few minutes after being in the bath. this indicates its rapid eliminative effect. such a bath will not accomplish exactly the same work as a cabinet or turkish bath, but good results can be secured therefrom. the hot bath when used for perspiration purposes should be followed by a quick sponging with cold water or by a cold shower. an excellent plan is to have conveniently at hand what is called a hand spray, attached to a long rubber tube. by attaching this to the faucet and turning on the cold water one may quickly spray all parts of the body while standing in the tub of hot water. finally, the feet may be sprayed with cold water on getting out of the tub. rub dry quickly and thoroughly with a rough towel, after which wrap up warmly so that you may continue to perspire. it is most essential that one should not cool off too quickly and certainly that one should not become chilled after a bath of this sort. this hot bath is rather strenuous treatment, but it is effective, if one is strong vitally, for rapidly purifying the blood and eliminating the poisons in the body in any toxemic condition. it will be found valuable in the case of grippe or of a bad cold, in syphilis, or in any other disease characterized by a poisoned condition of the system and in which there is no fever present. in the case of fever, which also invariably involves a toxemic condition of the body, the elimination of the poisons through the skin should be accomplished by methods which do not involve the external use of heat in this manner. wet-sheet packs, both of the entire body and of parts of the body, are among the most effective of rapid blood-purifying measures. frequently where one is confined to bed a hot-blanket pack will answer the same purpose as the hot bath just described. where there is high fever a cold wet-sheet pack may be employed. this will relieve the high temperature to a marked extent, and will also eliminate the poisons of the body in a most remarkable way. the sheet pack is applied by first wringing one or two sheets out of cold water and then wrapping them completely around the naked patient, with the exception of the head. if a single sheet is used the flap on one side may be wrapped around the body under the arms and the flap from the other side passed over the outside of the arms. the patient should then be wrapped up thoroughly with warm blankets, fastened with safety pins. he will quickly react with warmth, although if the vitality is low it may be well to place hot irons at the feet to insure quick recuperation with warmth. one may remain in such a pack for two or three hours, or if it is applied in the evening one may remain in it all night, provided sleep follows and no discomfort is noticed. where the recuperative powers are weak a wet-sheet pack which covers the entire body, may tax the vitality too much and under such circumstances a chest and abdominal pack may be used. this is really a partial sheet pack covering the trunk of the body from the hips and abdomen to the line running round the chest just under the arms. a hot pack of this kind is in itself very effective, although where there is fever the pack should be applied cold. in all such packs it is well to lay several blankets on your couch first, then quickly place the wet sheet upon it so that after the sheet has been wrapped around the body the sides of the blanket can be pulled over so as completely to envelop the patient. these methods are all suggested because of their effectiveness in stimulating the activity of the skin where one is not able to bring this about through exercise and perspiration. in all chronic conditions, however, in which it is essential to purify the blood, the daily practice of dry friction or air baths is particularly advised. do not overlook the value of the hot-water-drinking regimen in combination with exercise, which i offered in the chapter on cleansing and stimulating the alimentary canal. it is especially important to guard against constipation if there is any tendency in that direction, and above all things, daily muscular activity is absolutely essential. inasmuch as many foods have great value in the purification of the blood, i have referred to this particular aspect of the question in the chapter on what to eat. before leaving this subject it should be said that where there is any necessity for a rapid, thorough and effective cleansing of the entire system there is nothing that will accomplish this result as effectually as fasting. fasting is the greatest of all methods of purification. where there is any derangement of the system, with temporary loss of appetite, it is usually advisable to fast until the appetite returns and a short fast of from one to three days is usually sufficient. where there is any serious disorder and it is necessary to undergo an extensive course of blood purification a prolonged fast of many days or even several weeks may be required. fasting is such an important subject in itself that i can-. not give any detailed suggestions in regard to it in this volume. before fasting one should make a comprehensive study of its physical effects and especially should one be informed on proper methods of breaking a fast. during a fast all of the eliminative functions of the body are exceedingly active. if there is any surplus material the body consumes it during the fast. owing to the complete rest of the digestive system the energy which ordinarily is required in the digestion of food is free to be diverted to the work of elimination. it would seem that under these circumstances all of the functions of the body are especially active in the blood-purifying processes. you should remember, however, that even a fast will naturally be made much more effective by the general blood-purifying methods which i have given in this chapter. the measures suggested for increasing the activity of the skin will all be especially valuable if employed as adjuncts to the fast. the free drinking of water and especially the hotwater-drinking plan, together with the colon-flushing treatment, will likewise help to facilitate the cleansing and blood-purifying action of the fast. pure blood is the all-important factor in health. if the blood is not pure it can be made pure by the methods which i have suggested. remember that this purity depends first upon pure food and functional strength, in order that a good quality of blood may be produced; and secondly, upon active elimination of wastes, poisons and impurities in general. chapter xvii: hints on bathing i have already referred to the value of accelerating the activity of the functions of the skin. the ordinary practice of bathing is of great importance in this connection. many diseases would be prevented if the skin were thoroughly cleansed with due regularity. probably a weekly soap-and-water bath is all that is absolutely essential for cleanliness if one follows a daily regimen which will maintain a condition of internal cleanliness. in fact, the cleansing of the external body is not required with such frequency if one secures sufficient muscular exercise and follows a dietetic and general regimen that will guarantee sufficient activity of all the eliminative functions; but if one neglects to employ other measures that help to maintain the purity of the blood and the activity of the skin, then more frequent baths are required to insure cleanliness. it has been my custom to recommend a hot soap-and-water bath once or twice a week, depending upon the individual requirements, and a daily cold bath. the hot bath is to be used as a cleansing agent while the cold bath is a tonic exclusively. a regimen of this sort will usually be satisfactory where one is taking a general system of exercise nearly every day which will insure a certain amount of internal functional activity. note, however, that the cold bath, though of some value, is not necessary, when following the hot-water-drinking regimen. there has been much controversy as to whether or not cold baths are really beneficial, since in some cases they have proved harmful. under such circumstances the failure to secure good results may have been due to ignorance of the principles involved and to the lack of vitality essential to reaction from the shock of the cold water. a great deal depends upon the manner in which the cold bath is taken and the physical condition of the individual taking it. a cold bath is a strong stimulant to the entire circulatory system, provided one can recuperate with a feeling of warmth immediately thereafter. if this feeling of warmth does not follow, if you feel cold, uncomfortable, nervous and trembling for some time after the bath, the shock has been too severe and is not of advantage. under such circumstances it is better either to avoid the bath altogether or else take more exercise in order more thoroughly to warm the body before taking the bath. usually if one is warm before bathing and if the cold bath is taken in a warm room it is easy to recuperate from it. another good suggestion in a case of this kind is to decrease the duration of the bath. do not stay in the water too long. in some cases what is sometimes called a hand bath may be advantageous. this bath is taken by merely wetting the hands several times in the water and applying the moist palms to all parts of the body. the familiar sponge bath, so-called, using either a sponge or a washcloth, is often advised, although the hand bath just mentioned is even easier to take. i have also frequently recommended the use of the dry friction bath, following exercise, as a means of preparing the body for a cold bath. i have already referred to these dry friction rubbings as a means of accelerating the activity of the skin. this friction bath will, in nearly all cases, warm the skin sufficiently to enable one thoroughly to enjoy the cold water. in fact, this friction is to a cold bath what appetite is to eating. you should enjoy your meals and you should enjoy your cold bath. it is only when the cold bath is a pleasure that it is a benefit. if you dread it, if the mere thought of taking a cold bath brings a shudder, it will not be of benefit to you. you should feel sufficiently vigorous and vital really to enjoy it. a friction bath will put your skin in a condition where the cold water will "feel good." exercise that thoroughly warms the body will naturally have the same effect. the statement has often been made that to take a cold bath when overheated is dangerous just as it would be to drink a large amount of very cold water when overheated. it is said that one should wait until he cools off before taking the cold drink or cold plunge. to a limited extent there is wisdom in this advice, especially as it applies to getting into cold water when overheated and then remaining there until you have cooled off. such quick cooling is certainly dangerous, just as drinking too much very cold water is dangerous. on the other hand, a short quick cold bath under such circumstances is not dangerous but highly advisable. the danger in such cases lies in remaining in the water until chilled. as a matter of fact, when one is overheated he can thoroughly enjoy the cold water. you will recuperate quickly under such conditions and you can better afford to take a cold bath when very hot than when chilled. do not attempt cold bathing when you have "goose flesh" or when your hands and feet are cold. under such circumstances the hand bath is preferable. it is always best when overheated to cool off gradually, and after the bath taken under such circumstances to use a sweater or bath robe or other covering to insure the desired result. when one is overheated, it is best to drink water lukewarm or hot or only moderately cool. if you drink lukewarm water when overheated you can take any quantity desired. as previously stated, however, i would like to point out that if you are carrying out the regimen of hot-water-drinking and exercise previously referred to, a daily cold bath is not at all necessary. it might be taken with benefit if you are vigorous, but by flushing the body with a large amount of liquid according to the plan i have suggested virtually all functions of the body, including that of the skin itself, are accelerated in their activities. under such circumstances less bathing is required, at least for the purpose of maintaining proper circulation and functional activity. therefore the question may be left open for each individual to determine. one may take a cold bath or not, just as he may desire, while following the regimen referred to. many who enjoy a cold bath are inclined to stay in the water too long. in this way one may deprive himself of some of the benefits that might be derived therefrom. it is safer to limit the cold bath to a short period. the chief value lies in the reaction. if this is secured then all is well. the first effect of the cold water is to contract the tissues at the surface of the body, including the blood vessels, thus forcing the blood away from the skin. in the reaction the blood is brought back to the surface in large quantities, producing the glow that is noticed after a successful cold bath. after a short plunge or quick shower this reaction should be secured. by staying in the water too long one may overtax his vitality and become chilled. when taking a plunge simply allow the water to come in contact with all parts of the body; then immediately get out. if the recuperative powers are defective you should not use cold water, though the hand bath as described should be satisfactory. in such cases, however, by maintaining the warmth of the feet you can recuperate quickly and easily. if you will stand with your feet in hot water while taking the hand bath, or sponge bath, or when using a hand spray in the bathtub, recuperation will be easier. when the feet are warm the circulation is more easily maintained. following a hot bath, the hand spray can be used for the shower, applying the water quickly to all parts of the body before getting out of the tub. one should always use a cold sponge, spray, or shower, after a hot bath to close the pores. then rub dry quickly and vigorously with a turkish towel. a sitz bath is recommended instead of a full tub bath, as it is a tonic of great value through its effect upon certain sympathetic nerve centers. this bath consists in immersing only the central part of the body, namely, the hips and abdomen. special sitz tubs are manufactured, but one can use an ordinary wash tub. an ordinary bathtub will serve if filled with water about six to ten inches deep. put the feet on the edge of the tub and lower the hips down into the water. this bath is especially valuable as a means of stimulating functional activity. the colder the water for the sitz bath the better, although if one is lacking in vitality, it should not be below 70 degrees fahrenheit. a hot sitz bath may sometimes be suggested for inflammatory and painful conditions in the pelvic region. in inflammation of the bladder, for instance, it is valuable. when taking hot baths for cleansing purposes the soap used is of some importance; especially so if the skin is thin or too dry. in such cases strong soaps are injurious, although their effect may be overcome to some extent by rubbing the body after the bath with a very little bit of olive oil. i would suggest, however, the use of a pure vegetable oil soap, such as castile, which is one of the best examples of a vegetable soap. this soap may be suggested in all cases, but it is particularly important when the skin is thin or dry. very frequently dryness of skin is noticed in those of very light complexion. in the preceding chapter on blood purification i referred to a hot bath for the purpose of rapidly eliminating poisons and wastes in the body. an ordinary warm bath for cleansing purposes need not be taken at such a high temperature. in other words a soap-and-water bath will be perfectly satisfactory at a temperature of 103 to 105 degrees f. and need not occupy more than a very few minutes, whereas the hot bath referred to for the special purpose of blood purification may be of longer duration and of a much higher temperature, running up to 110 or 115 degrees fahrenheit. there is another type of warm bath, however, which is of special value in many cases. this is what i have sometimes termed a neutral bath, inasmuch as it is neither hot nor cold. this is a bath at about the temperature of the body, that is to say, 95 to 98 degrees fahrenheit. one should use a bath thermometer to be sure of the right temperature. this neutral bath has a sedative or quieting effect upon the nerves through its effect upon the innumerable nerve endings in the skin. it is neither hot nor cold, neither stimulating nor weakening, and one could remain in such a bath for hours without harm. it has a quieting effect upon the nerves and reference has been made to it in the chapter on sleep as a means of overcoming excitement or nervousness. in attacks of mania it is especially valuable, and is now extensively used in all insane asylums because of its wonderful effect in quieting the nerves. this bath at 98 degrees is also especially commended in the case of severe burns covering a large surface. it is about the only way in which a person suffering from such an extensive burn can be made comfortable. it is also one of the most perfect forms of treatment in a case of that kind. the serious character of the burn depends not so much upon the severity as upon the extent of the surface involved. therefore, one who has been seriously burned could remain immersed in a bath at 98 degrees f. for many days continuously, or until the skin has had a chance to heal. immersion in water is a natural condition, for there was a time away back when all the animal life of the earth was found in the water. it was only through special variation in the character of evolution that certain forms of life finally became adapted to a life outside of the water. therefore, immersion in water, except for the head, is not entirely an unnatural condition. chapter xviii: some facts about clothing the statement is often heard that a man is made or marred by the clothes he wears. this is frequently said with a view to emphasizing the importance of being presentably appareled, but it has a meaning beyond this. to a certain extent we are really made, or we may more properly say marred, by the clothes we wear. civilized costumes have become what they are through the dictation of the creators of style, the clothing manufacturers. every year the styles change through the commands of those whose profits are increased by this continual variation in the fashions. it is said that a woman would rather be out of the world than out of style. therefore, each year she discards her old-style costumes and buys the latest modes. we have to recognize, however, that clothing is a necessary evil at this period of human progress, so-called. there was a time when clothing was worn entirely as a matter of protection or as a means of adding warmth to the body. there was no thought given to the necessity for covering the body, for every part of the human anatomy was as commonplace as nose, fingers and toes. but now clothing is commanded as a means of hiding our bodily contour. prudery has come in and branded the human anatomy as indecent and consequently it must be covered. now in considering what we should wear we are compelled to adhere, at least to a reasonable extent, to what we call style, but beyond this our first thought must be for bodily comfort. and in speaking of comfort we mean not only the warmth essential to this but also the ability to use every part of our bodily structure with as little restraint as possible. if we could wear a costume which would permit us to feel just as free and untrammeled in our movements as we do when without clothing such a form of dress would be ideal. our movements should not be restricted by our clothing any more than is absolutely unavoidable. the ordinary skirt, supposed to be a necessary part of feminine apparel, is in its nature an evil of first importance. every step taken by a woman wearing such a garment is hampered; she is continuously handicapped by her skirt. if a man were compelled to walk through tall, heavy grass all his life he would get some idea of the extent to which the feminine skirt interferes with the freedom of woman. numerous other defects of our costumes interfere with bodily freedom. take our tight and ungainly shoes. here is an abominable instance of our slavery to style. in most instances the foot is made to fit the shoe, and the suffering that is endured by many so-called stylish people for the purpose of making the foot fit the shoe would be difficult to describe. a shoe should fit the foot. the more nearly you approximate the same freedom when walking in a shoe as you do when barefooted the more perfect the shoe. the toes should not be squeezed out of shape. the great toe should follow the straight line of the inside of the foot instead of being bent over to the position normally occupied by the middle toe. all the toes should be allowed to spread out in the shoe, at least to a reasonable extent. furthermore, a shoe that really fits should feel comfortable the first time it is put on. there should be no necessity for "breaking in" a shoe. the artificial heel added to the ordinary shoe is another curious freak of fashion. if the almighty in perfecting the human foot had found a high heel necessary it would have been provided. the artificial heel, especially the very high heel commonly used on shoes worn by women, is an insult to nature, to the creator. some day, when we are really civilized, high heels will be unknown. i am convinced that the omnipotent creator knew his business thoroughly when he created the human foot, that the sole of the human foot, heel included, was made for locomotion, and that it is impossible for human ingenuity to improve upon the foot. in other words, if you can secure footwear that will enable you to walk with the same freedom that you can enjoy when barefooted, you will then have attained perfection in foot covering. sandals and moccasins allow the feet the same freedom as one enjoys when barefooted. the sole of these forms of footwear has the same freedom in gripping the ground and adapting itself to the requirements of every step as the bare foot, and it is a curious and yet significant fact that whereas more or less foot trouble is the rule rather than the exception among civilized peoples, yet those races who wear moccasins or sandals, or go barefooted, never have flatfoot, broken arches, bunions or other defects of this type. passing to the other extreme of the body, our tight hats should be condemned. hats should be as light as possible and should not be so tight as to interfere with the circulation of the scalp. many bald headed men owe their loss of hair to tight hats. the stiff collars worn everywhere at the present time mar the natural contour of the neck, make an erect position more difficult, and are one cause of the round shoulders that are so common everywhere to-day. the suspenders worn by men have also an influence of this sort. they are inclined to pull the shoulders forward and make it more difficult to maintain an erect position. the flat-chested man will not feel his suspenders, but the man with a full round chest, properly carried, is under continuous pressure from his suspenders. if i were to select an ideal costume for men i am inclined to think that i would go back to the roman toga, to the flowing drapery of the greeks, or to the scottish kilt. the kilt is undoubtedly better suited than the robe to the colder weather of northern europe and america. these costumes not only allow a reasonable amount of freedom for all bodily movements, encouraging rather than discouraging the correct position of the body, but they also allow free circulation of air to the central portions of the body. as a hygienic feature this is of tremendous value. the air coming in contact with the skin is of value at all times, but it is especially required in these important parts of the bodily organism. many weaknesses are brought about through the unhealthful covering and restriction of these parts. trousers are not by any means an ideal garment. to be sure, they are a vast improvement over the long skirt, but they are not by any means equal in healthfulness to the costume of the scottish highlanders. in feminine apparel corsets are perhaps productive of more injury than any other part of the costume. the injury wrought by tight lacing is now everywhere understood, and in recent years large waists have become stylish. this tendency of the times will ultimately mean the elimination of the corset. when fully clothed we should have the same freedom of movement as when unclothed. the most perfect costume is our "birthday clothing," the clothing with which we came into the world, the human skin. to be sure, in cold climates bodily covering is necessary for warmth a part of the year, though in warm climates, or warm seasons, the more nearly we avoid restrictive apparel, the more happy and more healthy we are. the ideal costume in warm weather, therefore, would be no costume, but conventions demand that we cover our nakedness, and this command should be followed in a manner that will restrain our movements as little as possible. the question of color is an important factor in clothing. this is especially true in summer when exposure to the sun makes it especially necessary to consider our comfort. all dark-colored clothing absorbs the heat and the sun becomes very oppressive to the wearer. then, too, black and dark-colored coverings shut out the light, another objectionable feature. in my reference to sun baths in the preceding chapter on blood purification i placed special emphasis upon the value of light as a vitalizing and stimulating factor in life and health. ordinarily we not only smother our skins so far as the air is concerned, but we also shut out the light, hiding our bodies in a cellar, so to speak. our bodies need light as well as air and for this reason dark colored clothing cannot be recommended. for warmth when in the sunshine during the winter, black is very effective. when out of the sunshine black is cooler in winter than light-colored fabrics because it quickly radiates the body heat. it is well known that a black stove radiates the heat much faster than a nickel-plated or brightly polished stove. white or light-colored garments are advised in summer, both because they are cooler and because they permit the light to reach the skin. the arabs, bedouins and others who live in unforested countries where they are much exposed to the tropical sun use turbans and flowing robes of white as a means of keeping cool. pure white is often unserviceable, because it quickly becomes soiled, and therefore gray and tancolored garments are recommended. it is easily possible to absorb too much sunshine, especially in the lower latitudes. the various races of the earth enjoy a degree of pigmentation of the skin corresponding to the intensity of the sunlight in the latitude to which they have become accustomed through the course of evolution. equatorial races are black, far-northern races are blonde with very fair skin, and those occupying mean latitudes are either brown or olive-hued. brunettes or fairly dark-complexioned white men can stand more sunshine than the blue-eyed, fair-skinned types of scotland, norway and sweden. where the latter are exposed to intensely strong sunshine in latitudes further south than their natural home, and especially when visiting the tropics, where the sun's rays are nearly vertical, some special protection from the excessive light is necessary. then the upper or outer clothing should be white or light-colored, but an undergarment of some opaque or dark-colored material should be used to shut out the light. in the case of tropical animals nature provides a light-colored or tawny growth of hair, with an underlying black or heavily pigmented skin. the white man when in the tropics or when subject to the chemical rays of the sun in midsummer would do well to follow nature's example, wearing light clothing outside with blackor orange-colored or other opaque underwear. the hat should be white or tan or light-colored on top, but with a dark-colored lining extending under the brim. blonde types spending the summer in a latitude like that of texas or mexico would do well to consider these suggestions. sunlight is essential to life. sun baths are invaluable and ordinarily our clothing should be such as to permit the light to reach the skin. but when the sun's rays are nearly vertical fair-skinned persons may easily protect themselves and maintain comfort by following this suggestion. as a general thing, during both winter and summer, one should wear no more clothing than necessary, and that should be of a type to permit easy access of air to the skin. for this reason the character of one's underwear is important. wool is undoubtedly warmer and more or less suitable for exceptionally cold weather; yet for most purposes linen is to be preferred because of its more porous character. linen permits of free circulation of the air, and when the underwear is woven with an open mesh it is especially satisfactory. next to linen cotton is to be preferred, being likewise porous. the question of underwear is one to be determined largely by individual taste and requirements, but always it should be understood that one should wear underwear as light as is consistent with warmth and as porous as possible. this principle should also apply in the matter of shoes. air-tight foot coverings are highly detrimental as well as uncomfortable. leather in its natural state is porous and therefore a healthful foot covering. patentleather shoes, however, have been made air-tight by a special process, and are very hot, uncomfortable and unsanitary. the sole of the shoe should consist of nothing but plain leather. so-called waterproofing processes, making the shoe air-tight as well as waterproof, should be avoided. patented, waterproof soles are highly objectionable. if you can have your shoes made to order see to it that the sole consists of nothing but leather-indeed a single layer of good sole leather is most satisfactory. although such shoes will absorb water they will dry readily, and the disadvantage of wet feet on occasions is more than offset by the benefits gained from a porous foot covering the rest of the time. anyway, wet feet are unimportant if the feet are warm. a word about winter clothing. heavy underclothing is entirely unsuited to the temperatures maintained inside our houses during the winter. we usually have a summer temperature indoors in winter and should wear summer clothing. it is true that we require warmer clothing out-of-doors in winter, but this should be used only when out-of-doors; we should not wear heavy, warm garments both indoors and out. therefore, while the farmer who spends the day in the open would probably need heavy warm underwear, the city man should dress approximately the same as in summer when indoors, and add the garments necessary for additional warmth when going out. sweaters, gaiters and overcoats should be depended on when going out-of-doors instead of heavy undergarments. clothing, as i have said, is a necessary evil. so far as possible it should not hamper our movements and should not deprive our bodies of light and air. since it is necessary to wear clothing, i would strongly emphasize the importance of taking air baths at frequent intervals. when spending the evening in the privacy of your own room, studying or writing letters, you have a good opportunity to enjoy an air bath during the entire evening. and furthermore, when at home you should lay aside your coat and use no more bodily covering than is necessary. if you cannot take sun baths at a special hour each day, then i would advise that when taking your walk out-of-doors in the sunshine you wear clothing of such a character as to admit the rays of the sun, thus enabling you to enjoy a sun bath during your walk. a special suit of clothes, made of natural-colored linen, with a thin light shirt, lightcolored socks and no underwear, would answer all purposes admirably. chapter xix: suggestions about sleep sleep is one of the first essentials in maintaining or in building vitality. there are differences of opinion as to how much sleep may be necessary to health, but that sufficient sleep is required if one wishes to maintain the maximum of energy no one can question. sleep is far more necessary than food. one can fast for many days, or many weeks if necessary, and without any special disadvantage if he is well nourished before beginning the fast and has a satisfactory food supply after ifs conclusion, but no one can "fast" from sleep for more than a few days at a time without experiencing ill effects. one can scarcely endure an entire week of absolute sleeplessness. it has been found that dogs kept awake even though sufficiently fed, suffer more than when deprived of food and permitted to sleep. when kept awake continuously they die in four or five days. man can endure the strain a little longer than the dogs, but five or six days usually marks the limit of human life under such conditions. in early english history condemned criminals were put to death by being deprived of sleep, and the same method has been employed in china. enforced sleeplessness, in fact, has been used as a form of torture by the chinese, being more feared than any other. the men subjected to this frightful ordeal always die raving maniacs. these facts illustrate only too well the imperative necessity for sleep. unfortunately "late hours" prevail, especially in large cities. manifestly, if complete lack of sleep is fatal, late hours and partial lack of sleep is at least devitalizing and detrimental to health. the late hours kept by large numbers of people in civilized countries undoubtedly contribute very largely to neurasthenia and allied diseases. improvements in artificial lights have contributed largely toward the increase of the evil of late hours, injurious not only through the loss of sleep entailed, but also because of the eye-strain incidental to strong artificial lights and the drain on the nervous system. if civilized man would follow the example of primitive man and of many of the birds and animals in retiring to bed with the coming of darkness and arising with the appearance of daylight, this one change would revolutionize the health of the whole human race. how much sleep do we need? this is a question that cannot be answered arbitrarily as applying in all cases. individuals differ. without doubt, some require more sleep than others. thomas a. edison, who is an extraordinary man, not only in respect to his vitality but in every other characteristic as well, has frequently been quoted as saying that most men and women sleep too much. mr. edison himself claims to maintain the best of health with from three to five hours' sleep out of every twenty-four. we have heard of other cases too, of men and women with exceptional vitality, who have seemed to thrive on four or five hours' sleep. it is possible that this small allowance of sleep may be sufficient in such cases, but if so, it is undoubtedly due to the exceptionally powerful organism which these particular persons have inherited. no definite rule can be laid down as to the amount of sleep required by different individuals, for those possessing the greatest amount of vitality and the strongest organisms will require less sleep than those of limited vitality and weak functional powers. those possessing a strong functional system and great vitality are able to build up energy during sleep and recuperate from the exertions of the preceding day more rapidly than can those less favored in this respect. in other words, a very strong man can be quickly rested. his system can more rapidly than that of a weak man repair the wear and tear of his daily work. the man or woman with limited strength and a less vigorous functional system would require a longer time in which to recuperate. therefore, what would hold good in the case of such an extraordinary man as mr. edison cannot be depended upon in the case of the average man or woman, and certainly will not meet the needs of those who are debilitated and striving to build vitality. generally speaking, therefore, i maintain that most people at the present day sleep too little rather than too much. i would not stipulate any special number of hours for sleeping but i would advise everyone to secure as much sleep as he requires. it has often been said that if you sleep too much you will be stupid as a result. such results are usually brought about by sleeping in unsatisfactory environment, particularly in stuffy rooms in which the air is vitiated and really unfit to breathe. i cannot imagine one feeling stupid as a result of oversleeping when sleeping out-of-doors, or when the supply of air is absolutely fresh. excessive heat would probably be conducive to restlessness, but this is purely a detail which i shall take up later. under natural and healthful conditions one will rarely sleep too much. if you sleep until you wake up naturally there is little danger of your sleeping too much. without doubt most people need from seven to eight hours' sleep; some of them need more, particularly women and children, who in many cases require from nine to ten hours' sleep or even more. these are general statements. individual exceptions will be many, but, as i have said, it will be found that those who need less sleep are men and women of extraordinary vitality. the quality of sleep is really more important than the duration of sleep. it is quality or depth of sleep that is really what counts, and to secure this it is necessary that certain healthful conditions be observed. the first of these is a normal condition of physical or muscular fatigue. this is easily distinguished from nervous fatigue or exhaustion in which the entire system is more or less upset. abnormal states of this sort arise from excitement, excessive mental work, or other conditions involving severe nerve strain. this nervous fatigue is not usually conducive to sleep, but a tired condition of the muscles of the body generally, as a result of natural physical activity, is always favorable to sleep. many who complain of insomnia, therefore, would often be able to remedy their trouble by the simple expedient of a long walk, covering sufficient distance to bring about the physical fatigue which makes sleep possible. conditions of air, temperature and bed covering are also important factors in connection with the quality of sleep. if you are a sound sleeper it may be possible for you to secure more benefit from three to four hours' sleep than a shallow sleeper may secure in eight hours of a lighter degree of sleep. this extreme depth of sleep means complete rest for the brain, absolute loss of consciousness, and, to a certain extent, loss of sensibility in respect to our senses. in the lighter degree of sleep certain parts of the brain may be at rest, while others are more or less active. dreaming represents a state of partial consciousness rather than a condition of complete rest, inasmuch as various parts of the brain are active. one may thus be conscious of his dreams. there is no doubt, however, that in other cases various parts of the brain may be active though we may not be conscious of their activity. we have all heard of instances where mathematical problems appear to have been worked out during sleep, and we have heard of musical compositions and poems being produced during sleep. all these phenomena represent a condition in which one is partly asleep and partly awake; in other words, some parts of the brain are active and others are asleep. in extreme depth of sleep when all the mental faculties are at rest, the energies are relaxed, and the activities of the body are at a low ebb; it is such sound sleep that makes for rapid recuperation. the deepest sleep generally occurs within the first few hours after falling to sleep, and it gradually becomes lighter and lighter in degree until consciousness is reached. dreams, therefore, represent partial consciousness and usually appear in the earlier hours of the morning. when one states that he dreams all night he is invariably mistaken. one may seem to live over periods of days and even years in a dream, the actual duration of which may be measured in minutes. the chances are that the dreamer enjoyed a sound sleep before his dreaming commenced. although i have said that depth of sleep is more important than the duration of sleep, yet it is true that when one sleeps very soundly he usually sleeps longer. in other words, when one reaches great depth of sleep the transition to the period of wakefulness is only gradual, and it requires a longer time to complete the sleep and wake up than it would if one did not sleep so deeply, or, as we would say, so soundly. it will be found that healthy children, who unquestionably sleep very soundly, also sleep for many hours at a time. they may have dreams but these occur in the later hours of sleep, as every mother has observed. the man or woman well advanced in years who can secure the same depth of sleep that a vigorous child en joys will undoubtedly spend the bigger part of the night in sleep and will acquire exceptional vitality as a result. bodily rest, even without sleep, is undoubtedly of great value for purposes of recuperation. to a certain extent such rest, especially if associated with a state of very complete relaxation of the muscles, will make it possible to take less sleep without serious devitalizing results. the man or woman who suffers from insomnia should learn that he can recuperate to a considerable extent through simple physical relaxation without the unconsciousness of sleep. undoubtedly the physical inactivity common among civilized races has much to do with their ability to keep late hours. but of course this involves more or less nerve strain. the brain does not get sufficient rest, and the loss of sleep involves such an expenditure of energy through the brain as to constitute a serious drain upon the nervous system. even though rest for the body during consciousness is of certain value, it cannot go very far in taking the place of true sleep. to the higher centers of the brain and nervous system an opportunity must be given for the complete relaxation that comes only with the entire loss of consciousness. as i have already said, those who are lacking in vitality and who are trying to build strength need more sleep than those who are already strong. especially those who find it difficult to sleep need additional nervous strength and should carefully observes rules that will promote sleep. one will often hear sufferers from insomnia complain that they never sleep! they are convinced that night after night and week after week passes without their being able to close their eyes in slumber. they are deluded in every case, because they could not maintain life for more than five or six days if this were true. the fact is that they drop off to sleep and then awaken without being conscious that they have been asleep. at the same time, in all such conditions, it is necessary to improve the quality of sleep so that it will be truly refreshing. i have already referred to the influence of good healthy muscular fatigue as a means of enabling one to sleep. walking and out-of-door life will in almost every case make the nervous man or woman sleep like a child. one should not be too fatigued, but sufficiently so to thoroughly enjoy the sensation of lying down. one cannot truly enjoy sleep except when he has reached this condition of bodily fatigue. to induce this, i would recommend a walk in the evening before going to bed, covering several miles. although walking for health should ordinarily be brisk enough to stimulate breathing and arouse an active circulation, thus strengthening the internal organs, for the purpose of promoting drowsiness the last mile or two of the evening walk should preferably be very slow. fast movements are stimulating to mind and nerves. slow movements have a sedative effect. by walking very slowly as if one were tired the desired effect of fatigue is more satisfactorily secured. one imagines the need of rest under such conditions. the quality of the air is another important factor, though i need not dwell upon that here. the air you breathe during sleep should be especially fresh and pure, particularly so because of the more shallow character of the breathing. if you are in a room, all the windows should be open as wide as possible. if you have a covered balcony or porch, or if you can avail yourself of a flat roof, it is always advisable to sleep out-of-doors. the increased vitality will more than repay you for your trouble. there is something about out-of-door sleeping that vitalizes, energizes, and refreshes one to an unusual extent. circulation is another important factor in sound sleep, especially for nervous persons. many of those who complain of an inability to sleep suffer more or less from congestion of blood in the brain; also they complain of cold feet or cold hands and feet. in such instances, warm feet will often bring a solution of the problem. in some instances drinking a half cup of hot milk or hot water before going to bed will draw the blood from the brain and enable one to sleep. a hot foot bath before going to bed will do the same thing, or one may use a hot-water bag or hot flatiron wrapped up in flannels, or even a hot brick treated in the same way, to keep the feet warm when in bed. in extreme cases it might be advisable to apply cold packs to the head while applying heat to the feet or when taking the hot foot bath. another measure of special value for nervous persons is a bath at the temperature of the body, to be taken for a half-hour before going to sleep. in cases of extreme excitement, anger or nervousness this bath is invaluable. fill the tub with water at 96 degrees fahrenheit or 98 degrees fahrenheit. you can remain in this bath for several hours without harm, for it is neither weakening nor stimulating. it has a soothing effect upon the nerves and is even valuable in preventing attacks of hysteria or other nervous difficulties. this particular bath is so effective in hospitals for the insane that it has frequently obviated the use of padded cells and straight jackets. it is just as effective for the nervous person who wishes to overcome the excitement that is preventing sleep. a half-hour bath should be sufficient for ordinary purposes. another remedy of great value for soothing the nerves is the air bath. i have referred to this in another part of this volume, but it is extremely valuable for quieting the nerves in cases of insomnia. if the room is comfortably warm, an air bath can be advantageously taken for half an hour before going to bed. one of the most valuable remedies for those suffering from sleeplessness is to lie in an air bath during the entire night. this idea can be carried out very easily by raising the bed covering in such a way as to remove its weight from the body, thus providing what we might call a chamber of air in which to sleep. with the aid of a large safety-pin or a horse-blanket safety-pin, the bed clothing may be kept thus suspended. the safety-pin is pinned through all the coverings in the centre of the bed and then by means of a string passing through the safety-pin and running from the top of the head of the bed to the top of the foot of the bed the bed covering can easily be raised to the desired height. the appearance of the bed is then somewhat like that of a small tent. one may not feel warm immediately after entering, if the weather is cold, but if the covering is thick enough and the air is entirely excluded, a perfect air bath, warm and comfortable, can be enjoyed during the entire night. the head, of course, will keep its usual position outside of the covers. no underclothing or night clothing should be worn when attempting to carry out this idea. the problems associated with covering are of considerable importance. many people are unable to sleep because of cold feet and many are overheated by an excess of covering. it should not be necessary to bury one's self underneath a heavy load of covers in order to keep the feet warm. use as little covering as possible and still maintain the bodily warmth. eider-down bed covers are very valuable because of their light weight and great warmth-retaining qualities. overheating during sleep produces restlessness and robs one of the sense of refreshment on awakening. the question of cold feet i have already dealt with. the difficulty, in most cases, is one of defective circulation before going to bed. if one will be sure that his feet are warm and his circulation good before retiring to bed he will invariably have no trouble of this kind, even during winter time. i do not mean that one should be chilled by insufficient bedding, but i certainly would advise as little covering as is compatible with a comfortable degree of warmth. the feather beds, much used in europe, are undesirable, as they are unsanitary and are too warm for nearly all seasons of the year. it is always best to sleep between clean linen sheets. for purposes of warmth, however, bear in mind that cotton is of very little value, whereas animal-product covers such as wool and down, or feathers, are exceptionally warm. cotton comforters in cold weather are very heavy, but cold, whereas woolen blankets, wool-filled comforters or downfilled comforters are warm, but light. "a warmth without weight" should be the chief consideration in cold weather. and in using woolen coverings you can get sufficient warmth without much weight and with the very least quantity of covering. in summer use only a single woolen blanket or a light cotton coverlet over the sheet. when the nights are hot and sultry it would be well to use no covering of any kind. for warmth in winter special attention should be given to warm fabrics underneath the lower sheet as well as the coverings. one may become chilled from underneath if lying upon a thin mattress or an uncovered mattress. a wool-filled comforter, or double woolen blanket, placed over the mattress and under the sheet will contribute greatly to one's warmth. if the mattress is of proper thickness one can be comfortable with less covering and therefore less weight. however, i would suggest as a better plan the one that i have presented of sleeping in a virtual air bath the whole night through. the use of a pillow is necessary in nearly all cases. when one is sleeping on his back a pillow is certainly an objectionable feature. it tips the head forward and is conducive to round shoulders. a pillow is of value when sleeping on the side or in the partial face-downward position, as indicated in the illustration. the accompanying illustration shows a special position that i can recommend for securing restful sleep and for insuring deeper respiration. in this position you sleep with the body tipped forward partly upon the chest, and on the forearm, with one elbow just back of the body and hand under the waist. the knee of the upper leg will be drawn up somewhat. while this is a very comfortable position its chief advantage lies in the effect upon the respiration. it will be noted that in this position the organs lying below the diaphragm are placed in a suspended position, so to speak. the stomach and other organs by their own weight pull downward from the diaphragm, thus naturally allowing more space in the lungs, and particularly in the lower part of the lungs. through the simple effect of gravitation, therefore, this position allows one to breathe a larger amount of air through the entire night. one may turn from one side to the other in order to change the position, as it will be equally comfortable on right or left sides. in cases where there is weakness of the heart the left-side position can not be recommended if discomfort of any sort is noticed. one often hears a reference to beauty sleep and is often asked: "is it really true that an hour of sleep before midnight is equal to two hours after midnight?" there are many writers who claim that the time when you sleep matters but little if you secure a sufficient amount of sleep. it is doubtful, however, if this view is absolutely correct. i am inclined to lean towards the old-fashioned view as to the good effect of early retiring on beauty development that is based on health building. in one sense, it is reasonable to conclude that an hour of sleep before midnight is worth more than an hour thereafter. i am satisfied that there is greater exhaustion of the body from late than from normal hours, and it is difficult to get the full benefit from sleep when going to bed after midnight. at least the nerve strain of artificial light tends to produce a certain degree of vital depletion that one would not experience if his waking hours included only the daylight. then again, there is probably some mysterious influence that we do not fully comprehend which makes sleep at night more restful than sleep during the daylight. those who go to bed at midnight or thereafter use several hours of daylight in the early morning for sleeping. i realize that there are nocturnal animals and that the human race has developed nocturnal habits to a certain extent, but the human race and the animal life of the world generally have followed the habit through the ages of sleeping at night. without doubt a revolutionary change in this habit has more or less effect upon the restful character of our sleep. perhaps the mere question of light has much to do with it. daylight is stimulating. light has a chemical action and tends to stimulate animal metabolism. darkness, or the lack of light, tends to a restful condition. without doubt this question of light has much to do with the supposed benefits of sleep before midnight. the old saying that "early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise" may not hold true in the matter of wisdom and wealth in all cases, but there is no doubt it has much to do with the development of health and vitality. chapter xx: mind-the master-force for health or disease we hear of many miraculous achievements in the building of health and the cure of disease through mental influence. the mind is unquestionably a master-force. i will not go so far as to say it is limitless, for certainly a hungry man cannot imagine he is eating a dinner and secure the same benefits that he would from the meal itself. nor can a man who is passing away into the other world, through a definite vital defect, bring back life through mental force. but we should remember that many diseases are to a great extent imaginary. and some of those not actually imaginary may at least be brought about through fears that are the results of abnormal delusions. and where such diseases are combated by mental forces of the right sort, a cure can be effected in many instances. in numerous cases, also, it is well to remember that the mental state is the actual cause of disease. you become blue, hopeless and to a certain extent helpless. you see nothing in the future. life is dull. ambition, enthusiasm, have all disappeared. it would not be at all difficult for this state of mind to bring about disease in some form. health, strength, vitality of the right sort, should radiate all the elements and forces associated with life's most valuable possessions. happiness and health are close friends. it is very difficult to be gloomy and miserable if you are healthy. it is perhaps even more difficult to be healthy if you are gloomy and mentally ugly. therefore it is a wise precaution to cultivate a hopeful spirit. if the day is gloomy, if the sun is obscured by clouds, then develop the sunshine in your own spirit. try to radiate good cheer. by seeking to cheer up others you will cheer yourself up, for always when we help others, we inevitably help ourselves, though this should not be our main purpose in the action. when we try to build up the characters, improve the morals and add to the mental and physical stability of others our efforts develop our own powers. therefore, the best way to help yourself is to help others. we have a remarkable exemplification of the value of mental influence in what is known as christian science. even the most prejudiced enemy of this cult will admit that many remarkable cures have been accomplished through the principles it advocates. these cures alone indicate clearly that the mind is a dominating force that works for good or for evil. they prove that your thoughts are building up or tearing down your vital forces; that to a certain extent "thoughts are things," that good thoughts are a real tangible influence for developing mental or physical force, and-that bad thoughts have an opposite influence. it is well for each one of us to determine clearly whether the thoughts that fill our minds each day are constructive or destructive in nature. your thoughts can actually destroy you. they can kill you as unerringly as a bullet fired from a rifle. keep this fact very definitely before you, and try to make your thoughts each day the means of adding to your life forces. there are many emotions that are harbored on occasions, which are devitalizing and destructive. we are all, to a certain extent, slaves of habit, whether good or bad. for instance, there is the worrying habit, for worry is really a habit. therefore, it is a splendid plan to become slaves of good habits. one who has acquired the chronic habit of worrying needs a mental antiseptic. worry never benefited anyone; it has brought thousands to an untimely grave. to give prolonged and grave thought to a problem that may come into your life, with the view of forming an intelligent conclusion, should not be called worry, but anxiety. there is a very great difference between worry and concentrated study of a vexing problem. the characteristic of worry is a tendency to brood anxiously over fancied troubles. the typical worrying mind will take mere trifles and magnify them until they become monumental difficulties. many acquire the habit of going over and over again, and still again, the various unpleasant experiences which they have passed through during life. this inclination is baneful in its influence, to such persons i would say, eliminate the past. try the forgetting habit, cultivate health and along with it good cheer. make your mind a blank so far as the past is concerned, and fill it with uplifting thoughts for the present and the future. worry is a mental poison, the toxic element produced in the mind by retention of waste matter, thoughts of the dead past that should have been eliminated with the passing of out-worn periods of existence. self-pity is another evil. it is closely allied to worry. there are many who cultivate a mental attitude of this sort because of the sorrows through which they have passed. such individuals find their chief delight in portraying, in vivid details, the terrific sufferings which they have had to endure. no one has suffered quite so much as they have. they harrow their friends by going over frequently and persistently the long, gruesome details of their "awful" past. this habit is destructive to an extreme degree. why harbor past experiences that only bring sorrows to mind? why add to the bitterness of your daily life by dragging up the lamentable past? why pass along to your friends and acquaintances pain, sorrow and gloom? each human entity is a radiating power. you have the capacity of passing around pain or happiness. as a rule, when you ask a friend to "have something with you" your offer is supposed to bring good cheer. you surely would not ask a friend to have pain with you, or share with you the gall of bitter, experiences through which you have lived. therefore, if you are the victim of self-pity and if your own past sufferings discolor your every pleasant thought, at least do not taint the minds of your friends. at least keep your direful broodings to yourself if you are determined to retain them. it is, however, far wiser and manlier to avoid such thoughts, in which case your memory of these torturing experiences will gradually fade away. live in the future and forget the past. the man or woman who lives in the future, and for the future, will invariably be optimistic and cheerful. it is a good habit to cultivate. then there is a mental poison called anger. avoid it as you would a venomous snake. it has indeed been said by scientists that the venom of the snake is developed through anger, induced by impure circulation, for in reptiles the pure arterial blood mixes in the imperfectly formed heart with the impure venous blood. scientists have also stated that anger produces a poison in the perspiration that emanates from the human body. this may or may not be true, but there is no question, however, about anger being a mental poison. it represents a tremendous waste of nervous energy. to be sure, there may be occasions when anger is justified, when it is actually desirable, but such occasions are rare. learn to master such emotions. get control of your feelings and mental states. avoid useless anger definitely and finally. it usually indicates a lack of mental control, and should be recognized as a destructive force to be carefully avoided. hate is, to a certain extent, synonymous with anger. one may call it anger in a chronic form. hate and the personal enmities associated with it develop emotions and characteristics that unquestionably have a destructive influence. why hate anybody? why waste your nervous energies by trying to "get even" with a fancied enemy? a tremendous amount of human energy is wasted in this manner. you may be impressed with the idea that someone has wronged you. you lie awake at night forming plans for "getting even." every mental effort spent in this direction is not only destructive to body, mind and character, but it represents a waste of nervous energy. one's life should be so filled with useful activities that no time will be left for a waste of this sort. show me a man who spends his time and efforts trying to "get even" with his supposed enemies, and i will show you a shining example of failure. no man can succeed who wastes his nervous forces in this manner. then there is the poison of avarice. financial gain seems to be the one end and aim of many ambitious men. they struggle day after day and year after year in the whirlpool of perverted enthusiasm, looking continuously for wealth and still more wealth. but there is something more in life than money. health, for instance, is worth a thousand times, and self-respect should be rated a million times, more than money. do not allow a struggle of this sort to enslave you. do not allow pursuits of any sort to interfere with the development and maintenance of those powers that indicate superior manhood and womanhood. it is also well to avoid the complaining and critical spirit. you will find frequent references in the good book to what might be termed the thankful spirit. it commands us to be thankful for what we have received. and whether or not the tenets of theology appeal to you, the thought presented is of the greatest value. if you can be thrilled each day with gladness because of the remembrance of pleasures that you have enjoyed the previous day the mental influence will be invaluable. being thankful for what you have received does not necessarily indicate that you should not strive for more and better things. dissatisfaction or discontent is not always necessary to spur one on to added powers and responsibilities. avoid the complaining spirit, which will add gloom and despair to your life, no matter what may be your environment. be thankful for the favors and opportunities that may have come to you, be they large or small, and your mental attitude in this respect will represent a potent health-building influence. envy is another evil it will be well to avoid, largely because it is inspired by selfish attributes. do not envy others the joy of possessions that may be theirs. happiness, after all, is worth but little if it comes unearned. life's greatest pleasures are secured only through intelligent and diligent efforts. they come as the results of hard work. a man who inherits great wealth secures little or no benefit from it. it adds but little to his pleasure in life, for the greatest possible happiness comes from the pursuit rather than the attainment of an object. more happiness comes from the pursuit of wealth or pleasure than from its actual attainment. let the attainment of truth be your aim. truth is magnificent. it is tremendously weighted with power. whatever your ambitions or hopes in life may be, seek for the truth. in some cases the road that leads to this goal may be devious and hard to follow. dangers of all sorts may beset you, as you struggle along the rugged pathway that leads to truth, but the rewards will amply repay you for every effort. don't be a leaner. try to stand alone. be yourself. bring out your own personal characteristics, do not be a stereotype, a parrot, a copy. let others live their own lives, but you see to it that you live yours. many of our public schools are turning out factory-made human beings; each pupil, as far as possible, a duplicate of every other. they are educational brick factories tuning out their products stamped exactly alike. individuality is crushed out. now the child is not so much like clay to be molded into any form, as it is like a precious crystal, that must be shaped with regard to its original nature. each human soul is an uncut diamond. it often has within it capacities and powers which, if developed, might achieve results which we now expect only from exceptional human beings. therefore; be yourself. hold up your head, throw back your shoulders; remember that the earth and all that is thereon belongs to you. anyway, it is well to be inspired by such a thought. it is the proper mental attitude. life is a hard battle, and the rewards are to the strong and courageous. be inspired by the dominating determination to get all there is in your life. develop all your capacities and powers to their utmost limit, and then you can rest assured, that every thought that stirs your soul will be upbuilding rather than destructive in nature. chapter xxi: the laugh cure the physiological effects of the mechanical and mental processes involved in laughing are not generally understood and appreciated. the "laugh cure" is a reality, for it is a remedy of very great value. many a man, placed in a trying situation, would have been saved from tragical consequences if he could have found some means of arousing the emotions expressed in a good hearty laugh. naturally there may be times in life when a laugh is utterly impossible, or may seem so. nevertheless the inclination to stimulate the emotions associated with laughter and good humor should be encouraged at every opportunity. there is no question that laughter has valuable vitalizing qualities. it undoubtedly adds to one's stamina. it gives one a hopeful spirit. it leads one to look upon the bright side of life. when you can laugh, the sun is shining regardless of how many clouds obscure the sky. no matter what other efforts you may be making to build strength and vitality, do not allow the serious aide of life to occupy you continuously. each day should have its laughing time, or its many laughing times. it is barely possible, of course, that laughing, like any other emotional expression, would become tiresome if overdone, but i am inclined to doubt the possibility of harmful effect under any circumstances. "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy," and the relaxation and recuperation that go with laughing should be sought with a certain amount of regularity. if you cannot find recreation of this kind through any other source, then attend a "funny show." go to a theatre where merriment is supreme. on such occasions at least i would avoid tragedies or dramas that are inclined too much toward the sorrowful side of life. personally, i have never had much use for plays of this sort. there are slough serious experiences in life without searching for recreation in the sorrows of others, which are, after all, only the expression of the imagination of some brooding dramatist. some abnormal characters find pleasure in misery. i have heard some women say that "they enjoyed a good cry so much," and that "crying dramas were just grand." but i have been unable to discover anything rational in such sentiments. i may say, however, that in a sense there is a certain basis for this sentiment under certain circumstances. for crying, like laughter, has the physiological effect of producing a relaxation of tense nerves. there is a fundamental basis for crying, but this applies only to exceptional instances in which there is too much nervous tension. when nerves are strained to the "breaking point," crying will bring about a state of relaxation, and one will feel better. if there are times of strain when laughter is utterly impossible, then crying might even be beneficial. the effect on the breathing is very much the same in both cases, and there is a curious similarity in the action of the diaphragm and the mechanical character of the expulsion of the breath. looking tat a person from behind, one cannot tell whether he is laughing or crying. both produce relaxation of the nerves, both increase the activity of the lungs, and both involve a form of gymnastics for the diaphragm and entire breathing apparatus. but, while crying offers relief from extreme tension or grief, it does not justify crying for the so-called pleasure derived from it. laughter is a pleasure, in itself, as well as a symptom of merriment. it is the expression of keen, bounding joy. it is an emotive manifestation that stirs one's whole nature and vitalizes every part of the body. there is a sound, physiological basis for amusements that make us laugh. taking the world over, incalculable sums of money are spent for amusements that make us laugh, and it is money well spent. it is a sound and healthy instinct that leads the tired business man or the tired laborer to seek for mirth-provoking recreations. professional "funny men" like john bunny and charles chaplin undoubtedly add to the health of the human race, and they add to the vitality of those in whom they stimulate laughter. i feel sorry for anyone who has lost the power to laugh freely and heartily. when a man has brooded so much over the sorrows and miseries of life that he can no longer laugh, his condition is indeed serious. "laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone," is one of the truest things that ella wheeler wilcox ever said. for a laugh that is spontaneous and heartfelt is truly contagious, and in your little world, the circle of your friends, laughing brings a rich reward in increasing your own happiness as well as theirs. the bodily expression and mechanical efforts that go with happiness will often induce the feelings and emotions associated therewith. to prove the accuracy of this statement, some morning when you are feeling especially gloomy and unpleasant, look into your mirror and go through the process of trying to make yourself smile. screw up your features in such a manner as to force the required contractions of the facial muscles. if you continue your efforts long enough you will surely be rewarded by a real smile, and with the sense of good cheer that a smile will bring. you will make the surprising discovery at it is no longer an effort, for you will smile spontaneously. to go even further try the laugh cure in the following manner. first of all assume a laughing position, in order to laugh properly and to secure the best results. stand with feet far apart, and with the knees slightly bent. now bring the palms of both hands down and "slap" them vigorously on the legs just above the knees, and then swing your bent arms overhead, making a noise as nearly as possible like laughing. yes, you are quite right, it will sound very much like a cold stage laugh at first, and you will have to force it, but as you go on with the experiment it will gradually become more natural. continue this long enough and i defy anyone to differentiate the emotions aroused from those associated with a real, spontaneous laugh. in fact, if you have company while you are going through this process, i will guarantee that they will soon be "guffawing" loudly and violently. this experiment is an excellent one to thy on a company that is especially dull and in need of something unusual to awaken the spirit of good cheer. chapter xxii: singing-the great tonic singing was designed by the creator as a means of giving vent to joyous emotions. when one is overflowing with happiness it is entirely natural for him to break forth into song. therefore when you sing the bodily mechanical efforts associated therewith are naturally inclined to arouse the mental attitude of joy, delight and allied emotions. i have already explained the tremendous value of certain bodily positions and mechanical efforts as a means of influencing the mental attitude. if singing is naturally the expression of joy, then by forcing oneself to sing when mentally downcast one encourages, and at times actually produces, happiness and good cheer. but it is not only for its influence upon the mind that singing is valuable. it is a physical exercise requiring considerable effort. it wakes up the diaphragm. it promotes active circulation. it improves digestion. therefore it has a double value for stimulating the physical as well as the mental functions. i would by all means encourage every inclination towards physical efforts of this sort. remember that the cultivation of the singing voice especially requires the expansion of the lungs. it means that breathing exercises of unusual value will be practiced diligently and persistently on every occasion that you exercise your vocal powers. it not only affects the lungs but the action of the diaphragm involved, and serves to massage, stimulate and invigorate the internal organs lying underneath. there is no need to dilate upon the value of exercise of this sort, for i have referred to this aspect of the question in a previous chapter. if you have no special knowledge or training in the use of the singing voice, then simply do your best. sing at every opportunity. if there is no music in your voice do not allow this to discourage you. follow out the idea that singing is an exercise pure and simple. let your friends understand that you are not impressed with your vocal ability, but that it is simply a form of exercise you take with religious regularity. naturally if you can secure the opportunities associated with a musical education you are to be congratulated, and musical training largely devoted to vocal culture is far more valuable in its influence upon physical and mental powers than when limited to instrumental work. even apart from singing a good voice represents capital of great value. any efforts that you make with a view to developing the singing voice will improve the speaking voice to a similar degree. effective speakers do not always have musical voices, but all good singers possess good speaking voices. therefore the work that you may do with a view to improving your singing voice will surely add to your vocal capital. furthermore, all the time spent in the development of your voice should be looked upon as a recreation. if you can make voice culture a hobby, so much the better. there is really no better means of taking one "away from oneself." you will find no more effective means of diversion from exhausting mental responsibilities, since you cannot think of something else while devoting your entire attention to singing. your mental attitude makes considerable difference in the results. singing, as i have previously explained, is an expression of joy. to sing properly you should really be influenced by joyous emotions, and, though your musical efforts may be forced and mechanical in the beginning, you will usually find that the delight ordinarily associated with vocal expression will soon appear as a result of the physical and mechanical efforts involved in the training of the voice. naturally it is advisable to use the singing voice in the most advantageous manner, if possible, and it would therefore be well to secure the advice of competent instructors if you can, or at least to gain what helpful information there is in books on the subject. it is, of course, impossible to give any detailed advice in this short chapter, but i may say that i am engaged in the preparation of a book on vocal culture which will deal with the subject in an unusually practical manner. voice culture, in many instances, is a mysterious and intricate study that even many of its teachers do not seem to understand in every detail. it is a notorious fact that many so-called vocal instructors, including some of the highest-priced members of the profession, frequently ruin magnificent voices by wrong methods of instruction. it is a simple matter to build up a good voice, but it is also a simple matter to ruin one by unnatural methods of training. it is therefore well to learn to use the voice in a strictly natural manner, and without any straining or forcing of the tone. for instance, it is advisable to avoid any constriction of the muscles of the throat; that is to say, there should be no tension in the throat when singing. one should learn how to "place" the voice. resonance is all-important. many really good teachers differ as to the proper methods of using the voice. although there may be a reasonable excuse for a difference on some of the minor details of voice culture, yet there are certain fundamental principles upon which there should be a definite agreement, and it is these basic principles which will be presented in the book to which i have just referred. at all events, whether or not you desire to take up vocal culture in a serious way, at least you should make it a point to sing at every opportunity. break forth into song whenever the slightest excuse appears. if your voice is harsh, unpleasant and reminds your friends of a carpenter filing a saw, do not be discouraged. every vocal artist had to make a beginning. no matter how bad your efforts may be you can probably recall voices that are still worse. remember also that all voices improve with training. it is a matter of common agreement among instructors that anyone who possesses a speaking voice can also learn to sing. anyway, at the worst, your hours of practice can be so arranged as to avoid annoying other people, or you can adopt a method that i have often used. for instance, when you are on a train, or in a busy centre of the city in which there is a combination of noises which will drown your own voice, you can then sing or hum to your heart's content without annoying others. remember that humming, if you carry it out with sufficient breath to produce real resonance, is practically as good as singing for the training of the voice. there is one particular point of special value, and that is the advantage of singing when the stomach is empty. vocal artists commonly refuse to sing immediately after eating. your voice is free and full and clear when the stomach is empty. a few minutes of singing before each meal would enable one to digest his food far more satisfactorily. it would also establish the mental attitude best suited to perfect digestion. whenever you find responsibilities crowding upon you beyond your power to bear them, or when you realize that your mental attitude is sour, crabbed and pessimistic, then is the time to break forth into song. nothing will bring about a pleasing change more quickly. hum a tune. sing some popular song. put your soul into your efforts as much as possible, and you will literally be amazed at the value of this suggestion. chapter xxiii: the daily regimen following is a brief summary of the suggestions in this volume which may be incorporated in the daily regimen: rise from six to eight o'clock. drink a cup of hot or cold water immediately upon arising. take the thyroid-stimulating exercises. follow by spine-strengthening movements in combination with the hot-water-drinking. following these exercises a dry friction bath may be taken, if desired; also a cold bath. the latter is not necessary to the same extent while following the hot-water-drinking regimen as under ordinary circumstances. the bath may be varied from time to time by taking a cold sitz bath instead of a complete bath. before breakfast indulge in a good laugh or a little singing. eat a light breakfast-preferably consisting chiefly of acid fruits, such as oranges, apples, pears, grapefruit, grapes, etc. throughout the day while following your daily duties remember the suggestions in reference to proper position. make a continuous and never-ending fight to keep a straight spine. hold the chin in, down and backward, with spine erect as nearly as possible, whether sitting or standing. be hopeful, be cheerful, but cultivate the fighting spirit. you cannot have too much will power, determination. eat your first hearty meal between twelve and two o'clock, depending upon the time at which you had breakfast. from five to six hours should elapse between meals to insure perfect digestion. masticate thoroughly. enjoy your food as much as possible. do not eat without a keen appetite. try to take a walk some time during the day. remember during this walk to practice the thyroid-stimulating exercise-chin inward, downward and backward while holding a deep full breath, with the abdomen expanded. do not forget the necessity of using liquids freely. have water close at hand so that your thirst can easily be satisfied. some time during the day, if possible, take some form of outdoor exercise which will compel deep full breathing similar to that induced by running. try to get a good laugh or do a little singing before your evening meal. your evening meal should be taken between six and eight o'clock, depending upon the time of breakfast and lunch. do not forget my suggestion for closing the meal with a little acid fruit. a few spinal exercises, a walk or a short run before retiring can be highly recommended. during the evening, if convenient, take an air bath. take a combination sun bath and air bath in the morning or at any time during the day that is convenient. if you cannot take a regular sun bath wear light-colored clothing and walk on the sunny side of the street when outdoors to get the sun's rays through your clothing. take a hot soap-and-water bath once or twice a week. retire early enough to awake thoroughly refreshed at proper rising time without the warning of an alarm clock. the end the school of recreation: or a guide to the most ingenious exercises of hunting. hawking. riding. tennis. racing. bowling. fireworks. ringing. military singing. discipline. cock-fighting. the science of fowling. defence. angling. by _r. h._ _london_, printed for _h. rhodes_, at the _star_, the corner of _bride lane, fleet-street_. 1696. _the school of recreation._ [illustration] _printed for henry rodes near bride lane in fleet streete._ the preface to the reader. _reader, in this small book you will find such variety of recreations, that nothing of the nature ever appeared so like accomplish'd in any one volume, of what largeness soever: for besides my own experience in these acceptable and delightful particulars, reduced under proper heads, easy to be understood, and put in practice; i have taken the opinions of those whose ingenuity had led them to these exercises in particular or general, and are approved for the performance of them in the exactest manner, whose judicious approbations the more embolden'd me to a publication of them: in which you will not only find pleasure, and keep up a healthful constitution in moderately pursuing them, but in most or all of them find considerable profit and advantage, when you can spare leisure hours from your devotions, or to unbend your cares after the tiresome drudgery of weighty_ temporal matters; _not that i think it is proper so eagerly to pursue them, as if you made them rather a_ business _than a_ recreation; _for though in themselves they are harmless, yet a continual or insatiate prosecution of any thing, not only lessens the pleasure, but may render it hurtful, if not to your self, yet in giving offence to others, who will be apt to reflect upon such as seem to doat upon them, and wholly neglect their other affairs._ _we find the taste of honey is delicious and desirable, yet nature over-burthened with too great a quantity, surfeits, and begets a loathing of it. wherefore to conclude, i commend them as they are,_ viz. _suitable_ recreations _for the_ gentry _of_ england, _and others, wherein to please and delight themselves. and so not doubting this_ work _will be accepted, as it was well meant to serve my_ country-men, _i take leave to subscribe myself, kind reader_, your most humble and obliging servant, _r. h._ of hunting. hunting, being a recreation that challenges the sublime epithets of royal, artificial, manly, and warlike, for its stateliness, cunning, and indurance, claims above all other sports the precedency; and therefore i was induced to place it at the head to usher in the rest. but to come to the purpose: the young hunter, as yet raw in the true knowledge of this royal sport, with what is meerly necessary and useful, without amusing him with superfluous observations for his instruction: i shall therefore observe throughout this treatise this method: 1. the several _chases_ or games which fall under the first denomination, hunting. 2. the genuine of infallible rules whereby we are to direct our selves, for the obtaining the true pleasure in prosecuting the same, and the desired effects of it. know than; the beasts of venery or forest, are, _viz._ the _hart_, _hinde_, _hare_. as likewise the wild beasts, or beasts of chace are, _viz._ the _buck_, _doe_, _fox_, _marten_, _roe_. the beasts of warren, are, _viz._ _hares_, _coneys_, _roes_. _note_, the _hart_ and _hind_ before spoken of, though they are of one kind, yet, because their seasons are several, are esteemed distinct beasts; and in the _hart_ is included the _stag_, and all red _deer_ of antlier. and because i reckon it the most necessary part of the hunter to understand the names, degrees, ages, and seasons of the aforesaid different beasts of forest or venery, chase, and warren, i therefore, present him with these following _beasts of forest_, &c. the _hart_, the first year is called a _hind-calf_, 2 a _knobber_, 3 a _brock_ 4 a _staggard_, 5 a _stag_, 6 a _hart_. the _hind_ the first year a _calf_, 2 a _hearse_, 3 a _hind_. the _hare_, the first year a _leveret_, 2 a _hare_, 3 a great _hare_. _beasts of chase._ the _buck_, the first year is called a _fawn_, 2 a _pricket_, 3 a _sorrel_, 4 a _sore_, 5 a _buck_ of the first head, 6 a great _buck_. the _doe_, the first year a _fawn_, 2 a _teg_, 3 a _doe_. the _fox_, the first year a _cub_, 2 a _fox_. the _marten_, the first year a _cub_, 2 a _marten_. the _roe_ the first year a _kid_, 2 a _gyrl_, 3 a _hemuse_, 4 a _roe-buck_ of the first head, 5 a fair _roe-buck_. as for the beasts of warren, the _hare_ being spoken of before, little or nothing is to be said. the _coney_ is first a _rabbet_, and then an old _coney_. thus much for their names, degrees, and ages: now let us next observe their proper seasons for hunting. the _hart_ or _buck_, beginneth fifteen days after _mid-summer-day_, and lasteth till _holy-rood-day_. the _fox_, from _christmass_, and lasteth till the annunciation of the blessed _virgin mary_. the _hind_ or _doe_, from _holy-rood-day_, till _candlemas_. the _roe-buck_, from _easter_, till _michaelmas_. the _roe_, from _michaelmas_, till _candlemas_. the _hare_, from _michaelmas_, to the end of _february_. thus much i thought fit to speak briefly of the proper names, degrees, ages, and seasons of the several chases which we hunt: but having almost forgot some, i shall insert here, as intending to speak somewhat of them, and they are the _badger_, _otter_, and wild _goat_. as for the terms of art appropriated to hunting. and now i bring you to the second thing i proposed, _viz._ the rules and measures we are to learn and observe in the aforementioned sports or chases; and in this we must begin with the pursuers or conquerors of these chases, namely. _of hounds._ there are several kinds of hounds, endued with qualities suitable to the country where they are bred; and therefore consult his country, and you will soon understand his nature and use: as for instance, the western countries of _england_, and wood-land, mountainous countries, as also _cheshire_, and _lancashire_, breed the _slow-hound_; a large great dog, tall and heavy. _worcestershire_, _bedfordshire_, and many other well mixt soyls, where the champaign and covert are equally large, produce the _middle sized_ dog, of a more nimble composure than the fore-mentioned, and fitter for chase. _yorkshire_, _cumberland_, _northumberland_, and the north parts, breed the light, nimble, swift slender dog. and our open champaigns train up excellent grey-hounds, hugely admired for his swiftness, strength, and sagacity. and lastly, the little _beagle_ bred in all countries, is of exceeding cunning, and curious scent in hunting. for the choice of hounds we are to rely much on their colours, and accordingly make our election. the best and most beautiful of all for a general kennel, is, the white hound, with black ears, and a black spot at the setting on of the tail, and is ever found to be both of good scent, and good condition, and will hunt any chase, but especially the _hare_, _stag_, _buck roe_, or _otter_, not sticking at woods or waters. the next is the black, the blacktann'd, or all liver hew'd, or the milk white hound, which is the true _talbot_, is best for the string, or line, as delighting in blood; the largest is the comliest and best. the _grizled_, usually shag-hair'd, are the best verminers; and so fittest for the _fox_, _badger_, or other hot scents; a couple of which let not your kennel be without, as being exceeding good cunning finders. for the shape of your hound, you must consult the climate of his breed, and the natural composition of his body; but by these following characters you may know a good hound. if you like a large, heavy, true _talbot_ like hound, see his head be round and thick. nose short and uprising. nostrils wide and large. ears larger and down-hanging. upper lip-flews lower than his nether chaps. back strong and rising. fillets thick and great. thighs and huckle-bones round. hams streight. tail long and rush grown. the hair of his belly hard and stiff. legs big and lean. foot like a _fox's_, well clawed and round. sole dry and hard. all these shew an able hound. if you would choose a swift light hound, the _yorkshire_ one in the generality will please you; for that (as these have) he ought to have a slenderer head, longer nose, shallower ears and flews, broad back, gaunt belly, small tail, long joynts, round foot; and in fine of a gray-hound-like make. thus much to direct the choice of hounds; now something ought to be spoken of the composition of kennels, wherein i must appeal to the affection of the gentleman, the lover of this sport, and let him tell me the reasons that induced him take pleasure in hounds, whether it be he fancies cunning in hunting? or sweetness, loudness, or deepness of cry? or for the training his horses? or for the exercise of his body only? if for cunning hunting; breed your dogs from the slowest and largest of the forementioned northern hounds, and the swiftest and slenderest of the west country, of both kinds, approved to be not given to lie off, or look for advantages, but staunch, fair, even running, and of perfect fine scent. these will make a horse gallop fast, and not run; being middle-siz'd, not too swift as to out-run, or too slow as to lose the scent; are the best for the true art and use of hunting. if for sweetness of cry; compound your kennel of some large dogs, of deep solemn mouths, and swift in spending, as the _base_ in the consort; then twice so many roaring, loud ringing mouths, as the _counter-tenor_: and lastly, some hollow plain sweet mouths, as the _mean_: so shall your cry be perfect. observe that this composition be of the swiftest and largest deep mouth'd dog, the slowest and middle-siz'd, and the shortest legged slender dog. for these run even together. if for loudness of mouth, choose the loud clanging (redoubling as it were) mouth, and to this put the roaring, spending, and whining mouth, which will be loud, smart, and pleasant: such are for the most part your _shropshire_, and _worcestershire_ dogs. if (lastly) for deepness of cry, the largest dogs having the greatest mouths, and deepest flews, are the best; such are your west-country, _cheshire_, and _lancashire_ dogs. but if you have your kennel for training horses only; then compound your kennel of the lightest, nimblest, and swiftest dogs, such as your northern hounds are. for the strong and violent exercises of their horses, through the natural velocity of their hounds, in the north parts, have render'd them famous for truth and swiftness above all other parts of _england_. lastly, if for the maintenance of your health, by preventing infirmities and grossness of humours, you compose your kennel; consult first your own ability for this exercise; and if you think you are able to foot it away, then the biggest and slowest dogs you can get are best. but if you would pad it away through an unability of footing it, than choose the slowest or middle-siz'd hounds, of good mouths and noses, for loud cry, and ready scent. thus far for the composing a kennel: i come now to the _kennel it self_, of which i need say little, as indeed unnecessary, leaving that to the discretion of the _huntsman_; only i would have him observe, that it be built some pretty way distant from the dwelling-house, in a warm dry place, free from vermine, and near some pond or river of fresh water; and so placed, that the morning sun may shine upon it. be sure to keep it clean, and let them not want fresh straw every day. feed them early in the morning at sun-rising, and at sun-set in the evening. as for the meat, i leave to the ingenious huntsman to get when they come from hunting; after you have fed them well, let them to their kennel, and wash their feet with beer and butter, or some such thing, and pick and search their cleys, for thorns, stubs, or the like: if it is in _winter_, let a fire be made, and let them beak and stretch themselves for an hour or so at the fire, and suffer them to lick, pick, and trim themselves; hereby to prevent the _diseases_ incident to them, upon sudden cooling, as the _mange_, _itch_, _fevers_, &c. but before i treat of the keeping your hounds in health by curing their diseases, i must speak a word or two of the way to _breed good whelps_, viz. having a hound and a bratch of that general goodness in size, voice, speed, scent, and proportion you like, put them together to ingender in _january_, _february_, or _march_, as the properest months for hounds, bitches, and bratches to be limed in; because of not _losing time_ to enter them. when you put them together, observe, as near as you can, if the _moon_ be in _aquarius_ or _gemini_; because the whelps will then never run mad, and the litter will be double as many dogs, as bitch-whelps. when your bitch is near her _whelping_, separate her from the other hounds, and make her a kennel particularly by her self; and see her kennell'd every night, that she might be acquainted and delighted with it, and so not seek out unwholsom places; for if you remove the whelps after they are whelp'd, the bitch will carry them up and down till she come to their first place of littering; and that's very dangerous. suffer not your whelps to suck above two months, and then _wean_ them. when your whelps are brought up, _enter_ them not into hunting till they are at least a year and half old: that is, if whelpt in _march_, enter them _september_ come twelve month; if in _april_, in _october_ come twelve months after, _&c_. when you would _enter_ them, bring them abroad, with the most staunch and best hunting hounds; (all babling and flying curs being left at home:) and a _hare being the best entering chase_, get a _hare_ ready before, and putting her from her form, view which way she takes, and then lay on your hounds, giving them all the advantages may be; if she is caught, do not suffer them to break her, but immediately taking her, strip off her skin, and cutting her to pieces, give every part to your young whelps; and that beget in them a delight in hunting. _diseases incident to dogs, and their cures._ _for sick dogs._ take sheeps-heads, wooll and all, hack, and bruise them into pieces, make pottage of it with oatmeal, and _penny-royal_, and give it warm. _lice and fleas._ boyl four or five handfuls of _rue_, or _herb of grace_, in a gallon of running water, till a pottle be consumed, strain it, and put two ounces of _staves-acre_ poudered, and bathe them with it warm. _itch._ take oyl of _flower-de-lys_, powder of _brimstone_, and dry'd _elicampane-roots_, of each a like quantity, and _bay-salt_ powdered; mix these powders with the oyl, and warm it, anoint, scratch, and make it bleed, it will do well. _tetter._ take _black ink_, juice of _mint_ and _vinegar_, of each alike, mix them altogether with powder of _brimstone_ to a salve, and anoint it. _worms._ give your hound _brimstone_ and new _milk_, it will kill them. _gauling._ may _butter_, yellow _wax_ and unflackt _lime_, made to a salve, and anoint therewith, is a present remedy. _mange._ take two handfuls of _wild-cresses_, of _elicampane_, of the leaves and roots of _roerb_ and _sorrel_, the like quantity, and two pound of the roots of _frodels_, boyl them all well in lye and vinegar, strain it, and put therein two pound of _grey soap_, and after 'tis melted, rub your hound with it four or five days together. _for any ear disease._ mix _verjuice_ and _chervile_ water together, and drop into his ears a spoonful or two, morning and evening. _sore eyes._ chew a leaf or two of _ground ivy_, and spit the juice into his eyes. _surbaiting._ wash his feet with _beer_ and _butter_, and bind young red _nettles_ beaten to a salve to his soles. _biting by snake, adder_, &c. beat the herb _calaminth_ with _turpentine_, and yellow _wax_ to a salve, and apply it. to expel the inward poyson, give the said herb in milk. _biting by a mad dog._ wash the place with _sea-water_; or strong _brine_, will cure him. the quantity of a hazel-nut of _mithridate_, dissolved in sweet wine, will prevent inward infection. _madness._ lastly, if your hound be mad, which you will soon find by his separating himself from the rest, throwing his head into the wind, foaming and slavering at mouth, snatching at every thing he meets, red fiery eyes, stinking filthy breath; then to knock him in the head, is a present remedy, and you'l prevent infinite dangers. and now i proceed to give some brief instructions for hunting the several chases, _viz._ the _time when?_ and the _manner how?_ having your kennel of hounds in good order and plight, lead them forth, and to your game; only take this caution; do not forget to have in your pack a couple of _hounds_, called _hunters in the high-wayes_, that will scent upon hard ground, where we cannot perceive pricks or impressions; and let a couple of _old stench hounds_ accompany you, by whose sure scent, the too great swiftness of the young and unexperienced ones may be restrained and regulated. _of hart_ or _stag hunting._ to understand the _age_ of this our game, it is known by several marks, amongst which this is the most authentick: that if you take his view in the ground, and perceive he has a large foot, a thick heel, a deep print, open cleft and long space, then be assured he is old; as the contrary concludes him young. to find him? examine the following annual, or monethly. _november_, in heaths among furs, shrubs, and whines. _december_, in forests among thick and strong woods. _january_, in corners of the forests, corn-fields, _wheat_, _rye_, &c. _february_ and _march_, amongst young and thick bushes. _april_ and _may_, in coppices and springs. _june_ and _july_, in out-woods and purlieus nearest the corn-fields. _september_ and _october_, after the first showers of rain, they leave their thickets, and go to rut, during which time there is no certain place to find them in. when you have found him in any of these places, be careful to go up the wind; and the best time to find him is before _sun-rising_, when he goes to feed; then watch him to his leir, and having lodged him, go and prepare; if he is not forced, he will not budge till evening. approaching his lodging, cast off your _finders_, who having hunted him a ring or two, cast in the rest; and being in full cry and maine chase, comfort and cheer them with horn and voice. be sure to take notice of him by some _mark_, and if your dogs make _default_, rate them off and bring them to the _default_ back, and make them cast about till they have undertaken the first _deer_; then cheer them to the utmost, and so continue till they have either set up or slain him. it is the nature of a _stag_, to seek for one of his kind, when he is imbost or weary, and beating him up, ly down in his place; therefore have a watchful eye unto _change_. as likewise by taking _soil_ (i.e. water) he will swim a river just in the middle down the stream, covering himself all over, but his nose, keeping the middle, least by touching any boughs he leave a scent for the _hounds_; and by his crossings and doublings he will endeavour to baffle his persuers: in these cases have regard to your _old hounds_, as i said before. when he is imbost or weary, may be known thus: by his creeping into holes, and often lying down, or by his running stiff, high and lumpering, slavering and foaming at mouth, shining and blackness of his hair, and much sweat; and thus much for _stag_ or _hart hunting_. as for the _buck_ i shall not speak any thing, for he that can hunt a _stag_ well, cannot fail hunting a _buck_ well. as likewise for the _roe hunting_, i refer you to what is spoken of the _hart_ or _stag_. _of hare hunting._ as for the _time_, the most proper to begin this game, note; that about the middle of _september_ is best, and to end towards the latter end of _february_, when surcease, and destroy not the young early brood of _leverets_; and this season is most agreeable likewise to the nature of _hounds_; moist and cool. now for the _place_ where to find her, you must examine and observe the seasons of the year; for in summer or spring time, you shall find them in corn-fields and open places, not sitting in bushes, for fear of snakes, adders, _&c_. in _winter_ they love tuffs of thorns and brambles, near houses: in these places you must regard the _oldness_ or _newness_ of her _form_ or _seat_, to prevent labour in vain: if it be plain and smooth within, and the pad before it flat and worn, and the prickles so new and perceptible, that the earth seems black, and fresh broken, then assure your self the form is new, and from thence you may hunt and recover the _hare_; if the contrary, it is old, and if your _hounds_ call upon it, rate them off. when the _hare_ is started and on foot, step in where you saw her pass, and hollow in your _hounds_ till they have undertaken it, then go on with full cry. above all, be sure to observe her first doubling, which must be your direction for all that day; for all her other after doublings, will be like that. when she is thus reduced to the _slights_ and _shifts_ she makes by doublings and windings, give your dogs _time_ and _place_ enough to cast about your rings, for unwinding the same; and observe her _leaps_ and _skips_ before she squat, and beat curiously all likely places of harbour: she is soon your prey now. _of coney catching._ their _seasons_ are always, and the way of taking them thus: set pursenets on their holes, and put in a _ferret_ close muzzled, and she will boult them out into the nets: or blow on a sudden the drone of a bag-pipe into the burrows, and they will boult out: or for want of either of these two, take powder of _orpiment_ and _brimstone_, and boult them out with the smother: but pray use this last seldom, unless you would destroy your warren. but for this sport _hays_ are to be preferred above all. _of fox-hunting._ _january_, _february_, and _march_, are the best seasons for hunting the _fox_ above ground, the scent being then strong, and the coldest weather for the _hounds_, and best finding his earthing. cast off your sure finders first, and as the _drag_ mends, more; but not too many at once, because of the variety of chaces in woods and coverts. the night before the day of hunting, when the _fox_ goes to prey at midnight, find his earths, and stop them with black thorns and earth. to find him draw your _hounds_ about groves, thickets, and bushes near villages; pigs and poultry inviting him to such places to lurk in. they make their earths in hard clay, stony grounds, and amongst roots of trees; and have but one hole straight and long. he is usually taken with _hounds_, _grey-hounds_, _terriers_, _nets_ and _gins_. _of badger hunting._ this creature has several names, as _gray brock_, _boreson_, or _bauson_; and is hunted thus. first go seek the earths and burrows where he lieth, and in a clear moon-shine night, stop all the holes but one or two, and in these fasten sacks with drawing strings; and being thus set, cast off your _hounds_, and beat all the groves, hedges, and tuffs within a mile or two about, and being alarm'd by the dogs they will repair to their burrows and kennels, and running into the bags, are taken. _of the martern or wild cat._ these two chases are usually hunted in _england_, and are as great infesters of warrens, as the two last mentioned vermine, but are not purposely to be sought after; unless the huntsman see their place of prey, and can go to it; and if the _hound_ chance to cross them, sport may be had. but no rule can be prescribed how to find or hunt them. _of the otter._ this creature useth to lye near rivers in his lodging, which he cunningly and artificially builds with boughs, twigs and sticks. a great devourer of fish. it is a very sagacious and exquisitely smelling creature, and much cunning and craft is required to hunt him. but to take him, observe this in short. being provided with _otter-spears_ to watch his vents, and good _otter-hounds_, beat both sides of the river's banks, and you'll soon find if there is any. if you find him, and perceive where he swims under water, get to stand before him when he _vents_, (_i.e._ takes breath) and endeavour to strike him with the spear: if you miss him, follow him with your _hound_, and if they are good for _otter_, they will certainly beat every tree root, _bul-rush bed_, or _osier-bed_, so that he cannot escape you. _of the wild goat._ the _wild-goat_ is as big and as fleshy as a _hart_, but not so long-legg'd. the best time for hunting them is, at _all-hallontide_; and having observed the advantages of the coasts, rocks, and places where the _goats_ lie, set nets and toils towards the rivers and bottoms; for 'tis not to be imagined, the dogs can follow them down every place of the mountains. stand some on the tops of the rocks, and as occasion offers throw down stones; and place your relays at the small brooks or waters, where the _goat_ comes down; but let them not tarry, till the _hounds_ come in, that were cast off. _thus much for hunting._ _of riding._ here we must first examine the ends and design of our proposing this art to our selves, and accordingly lay down as briefly as may be the necessary rules and lessons are to be observed and learnt; and i take these to be the usual perfections we aim at. _to ride well the great_ horse, _for the wars or service, and the_ horse _for pleasure_; of both which as concisely as i can, in their order. we must begin with _taming a young colt_. after you have kept him at home some time, and made him so familiar with you, as to suffer _combing_, _currying_, _handling_, and _stroaking_ any part, 'tis high time then to offer him the saddle, which you must lay in the _manger_ first, that by its smell, he may not be afraid of it, or the _styrrups_ noise. then gently saddling him (after his dressing) take a sweet _watering trench_, anointed with honey and salt, and place it in his mouth so, that it may hang directly over his _tush_; then lead him abroad in your hand, and water him; and after he has stood an hour rein'd take off his bridle and saddle, and let him feed till evening; then do as in the morning; dress and cloath him, having _cherisht_, by the voice delivered smoothly and gently; or by the hand by gently stroaking and clapping him on the neck, or buttock; or lastly by the _rod_, by rubbing it on his withers or main. on the next day as before; and after that, put him on a strong _musrole_, or sharp _cavezan_, and _martingale_; which is the best guide to a horse for setting his head in due place, forming the rein, and appearing graceful and comely; it corrects the yerking out his head, or nose, and prevents his running away with his rider. observe therefore to place it right, that it be not buckled straight, but loose, and so low, that it rest on the tender grizsle of his nose, to make him the more sensible of his fault, and correction; and so as you see you win his head, bring him straighter by degrees; let him but gently feel it, till his head be brought to its true perfection. having observed this well, lead him forth into some soft or new plowed land, trot him about in your hand a good while: then offer to mount; if he refuse to suffer you, trot him again; then putting your foot into the _styrrop_, mount half way; if he takes it impatient, correct him, and about again; if not, cherish him, and place your self a moment in the saddle, dismount, cherish, and feed him with _grass_, or _bread_: all things being well, remount, even in the saddle, keeping your rod from his eye; then let one lead him by the _chaff-halter_, and ever and a-non make him stand, and cherish him, till he will of his own accord go forward; then come home, alight gently, _dress and feed him well_. this course in few dayes will bring him to trot, by following some other horse-man, stop him now and then gently, and forward; not forgetting seasonable _cherishings_ and _corrections_, by voice, _bridle_, _rod_, _spurs_. being thus brought to some certainty of _rein_, and _trotting_ forth-right, then to the treading _forth of the large rings_. and here first examine your horses nature, before you choose your ground, for, if his nature be dull and sloathful, yet strong, then _new-plow'd-field_ is best; if _active_, _quick_ and _fiery_, then _sandy-ground_ is to be preferred; in the most proper of which mark out a large ring, of a hundred paces circumference. walk about it on the right seven or eight times, then by a little straightning your right rein, and laying your left leg calf to his side, make a half circle within the ring upon your right down to its center; then by straightning a little your left rein, and laying your right leg calf to his side, make a half circle to your left hand, from the center to the outmost verge, and these you see contrary turned make a roman _s_. now to your first large compass, walk him about on your left hand, as oft as before on the right, and change to your right within your ring; then trot him first on the right-hand, then on the left, as long as you judge fit, and as often mornings and evenings, as the nature of your horse shall require. in the same manner you may make him to _gallop_ the same rings, though you must not enter it all at once, but by degrees, first a quarter, then a half-quarter; and the lightness and cheerfulness of your body, not the spur, must induce him to it. the next lesson is to _stop fair_, _comely_, and without danger. first see that the ground be hard and firm, then having cherisht your horse, bring him to a swift trot, about fifty paces, and then straightly & suddenly draw in your bridle hand; then ease a little your hand to make him give backward, and in so doing, give him liberty and cherish him; then drawing in your bridle hand, make him retire, and go back; if he strike, ease your hand: if he refuse, let some by-stander put him back, that he may learn your intention and thus he may learn these two lessons at once. _to advance before_, when he stoppeth, is thus taught: when you stop your horse, without easing your hand, lay close and hard to his sides both calves of your legs, and shaking your rod cry, _up_, _up_; which he will understand by frequent repetition, and practice: this is a gracefull, and comely motion, makes a horse agile, and nimble, and ready to turn; and therefore be careful in it: that he take up his legs even together, and bending to his body; not too high, for fear of his coming over; not sprawling, or pawing; or for his own pleasure; in these faults correct him with spur and rod. to _yerk out behind_ is the next lesson, thus learnt, presently upon your making him stop give him a good brisk jerk near his flank, which will make him soon understand you. when he does it, cherish him; and see he does it comely, for to yerk out his hinder legs, till his forelegs be above ground, is not graceful; or one leg yerk't farther out than the other; or one leg out while the other is on the ground; in this case a single spur on the faulty side, is best. but to help him in yerking, staying his mouth on the bridle, striking your rod under his belly, or touching him on the rump with it. to _turn readily on both hands_, thus: bring his large rings narrower, and therein gently walk him, till acquainted. then carry your bridle-hand steady and straight, the outmost rather straighter than the inmost rein, to look from, rather than to the ring; trot him thus about, on one side and the other successively, as aforesaid. after some time stop, and make him advance twice or more, and retire in an even line; then stop and cherish him. to it again, after the same manner, making him lap his outmost leg above a foot over his inner. and thus the _terra a terra_, _incavalere & chambletta_, are all taught together. perfect your horse in the large ring, and the straight ring is easily learnt. your horse being brought thus far to perfection, with the _musrole_ and _trench_, now let a gentle _cavezan_ take their place; with a smooth cannon-bit in his mouth, and a plain watering chain, cheek large, and the kirble thick, round and big, loosely hanging on his nether lip; and thus mount him, and perfect your horse with the _bit_ in all the aforesaid lessons, as you did with the _snaffle_; which indeed is the easier to be done of the two. to teach your horse _to go a side_, as a necessary motion for shunning a blow from an enemy, is thus: draw up your bridle hand somewhat straight, and if you would have him go on the right, lay your left rein close to his neck, and your left calf likewise close to his side (as in the _incavalere_ before) making him lap his left leg over his right; then turning your rod backward jerking him on the left hinder thigh gently, make him to bring to the right side his hinder parts, and stand as at first in an even direct line: then make him remove his fore parts more, that he may stand as it were cross over the even line, and then bring his hinder parts after, and stand in an even line, again. and thus you must do, if you would have him go on the left hand, using your corrections and cherishings on the right. use it, and you may be sure of perfection. for the _carreere_, only take this: let it not extend in length above six score yards, give your horse warning before you start him by the bridle hand, and running full speed, stop him suddenly, firm and close on his buttock. for the _horse of pleasure_, these following lessons are to be learnt. as first to _bound aloft_, to do which: trot him some sixteen yards, then stop, and make him twice advance; then straighten your bridle-hand; then clap briskly both your spurs even together to him, and he will rise, tho' it may at first amaze him; if he does it, cherish him, and repeat it often every day, till perfect. next to _corvet_ and _capriole_ are motions of the same nature, and in short are thus taught. hollow the ground between two joyning walls a horses length, by the side of which put a strong smooth post of the same length from the wall, and fasten at the wall an iron ring over against the post: thus done, ride into the hollow place, and fasten one of the _cavezan_ reins to the post, and the other to the ring; then cherish him, and by the help of the calves of your legs, make him advance two or three times; then pause, and cherish him; make him advance again a dozen times more, and then rest; double your advancings, and repeat them till it becomes habitual to him, to keep his ground certain, advance of an _equal hight_ before and behind, and observe a _due time_ with the motions of your legs. the inequality of his advancing his hinder legs, is helpt by a jerk on the fillets by some body behind him with a rod. _of racing._ a racer must have the _finest cleanest shape_ possible, and above all, _nimble_, _quick_, and _fiery_, _apt to fly with the least motion_; nor is a long bodied contemptible, it assuring _speed_, tho' it signifies _weakness_ too. the _arabian_, _barbary_, or his bastard, are esteemed the best for this use, these excelling _fennets_, tho' they are good too. having furnished your self with a horse thus qualified, you are to observe his right and due _ordering_, before your designed _racing_. _bartholomew-tide_ is the most proper time to _take him from grass_; the day before being dry, fair, and pleasant: that night let him stand conveniently, to empty his body; the next day _stable_ him, and feed him with _wheat-straw_ that day, and no longer; lest you exceeding that time, it straighten his _guts_, heat his _liver_, and hurt his _blood_; for want of _straw_, riding him morning and evening to water, airing, or other moderate exercises will serve. then feed him with good old sweet _hay_, and according to the season, and temperature of his body clothe him; for a _smooth coat_ shews _cloth_ enough, and a _rough coat_ want of it. observe likewise where you _water_, your _race-horse_, that it be a running _water_, or clear _spring_, far distant (a mile or more) from the _stable_, adjoyning to some _level_; where after he has once well drank gallop him, and so water and scope him till that he refuse to drink more, for that time; then walk him gently home (being an hour on your way, or more) clothe, and stop him round with soft _whisps_, and let him stand an hour upon his _bridle_, and after feed him with sweet sound _oats_, throughly dryed either with _age_, _kilne_, or _sun_; if he be low of flesh, or bad stomacht, add a third part of clean old _beans_, or two parts of _oats_, or wash his _oats_ in strong _beer_ or _ale_. for _dressing_ take these rules. _dress_ your horse twice a day, before you water him, both morning, and evening, thus: _curry_ him after he is uncloath'd, from his _ear-tips_ to his _tayle_, and his whole body intirely (save his legs under the knees, and cambrels) with an _iron-comb_; then dust him, and rub him with a brush of _bristles_ over again; dust him again, and wetting your hand in clean water, rub off all the loose hairs, and so rub him dry as at first; then with a fine _hair cloth_ rub him all over; and lastly, with a fine linnen cloth; and then pick his eyes, nostrils, sheath, cods, tuel, and feet clean. the best food for your _racer_, is good, sweet, well dryed, sunned, and beaten _oats_: or else bread made of one part beans, and two parts _wheat_ (_i.e._) two bushels _wheat_, to one of _beans_, ground together: boult through a fine range half a bushel of fine _meal_, and bake that into two or three loaves by it self, and with water and good store of _barm_, knead up, and bake the rest in great loaves, having sifted it through a _meal-sieve_: (but to your finer, you would do well to put the whites of twenty or thirty _eggs_, and with the _barm_ a little _ale_, 'tis no matter how little water:) with the courser feed him on his resting days, on his labouring days with the finer. the best time for feeding your _runner_ on his resting days is, after his watering in the morning, at one a clock at noon, after his watering in the evening, and at nine or ten a clock at nights: on his days of labour, two hours after he is throughly cold outwardly and inwardly, as before. as for the proportion of meat, i shall not confine your love to a quantity, only give him a little at once, as long as his appetite is good: when he begins to fumble and play with his meat, hold your hand, shut up your sack. as for his _exercise_ it ought to be thrice a week, as his bodily condition requires; if he be foul, moderate exercise will break his grease; if clean, then as you judge best, taking heed of breaking his mettle, or discouraging him, or laming his limbs. before you air him, to add to his wind, it is requisite to give him a raw egg broken in his mouth: if your horse be very fat, air him before sun rising and after sun-set; if lean, deprive him not of the least strength and comfort of the sun you can devise. to make him sweat sometimes by coursing him in his cloaths is necessary, if moderate; but without his cloaths, let it be sharp and swift. see that he be empty before you course him; and it is wholesome to wash his tongue and nostrils with _vinegar_; or _piss_ in his mouth, before you back him. and after his exercise, cool him before you come home, house, litter and rub him well and dry; then cloath him, and give him after every course a scouring thus prepared. _for scouring a race-horse._ take 20 _raisins_ of the _sun_ stoned, 10 _figs_ slit in the midst, boyl them till they be thick in a pottle of fair water, mix it with powder of _annis-seeds_, _lycoras_, and _sugar-candy_, till it come to a stiff paste, make them into round balls, roul them in butter, and give him three or four of them the next morning after his course, and ride him an hour after, and then set him up warm. or this may be preferred, being both a purge and a restorative, a cleanser and a comforter, thus prepared. take three ounces of _annis-seeds_, six drams of _cummin-seeds_, one dram and half of _carthamus_, one ounce and two drams of _fennugreek-seed_, one ounce and half of _brimstone_; beat all these to a fine powder, and searse them; then take a pint and two ounces of _sallet-oyl_, a pint and half of _honey_, and a pottle of _white-wine_; then with a sufficient quantity of fine white meal, knead and work all well into a stiff paste; keep it in a clean cloath, for use. when occasion requires, dissolve a ball of it in a pail of water, and after exercise give it him to drink in the dark, that he may not see the colour, and refuse it: if he does refuse, let fasting force him to be of another mind. to conclude, these instructions, i will give you 'em in short before you run, and then away as fast as you can. _course not your horse hard four or five days before your match, lest you make his limbs sore, and abate his speed._ _muzzle him not (except a foul feeder) above two or three nights before the race, and the night before his bloody courses._ _give him sharp, as well at gentle, courses on the race he is to run._ _shoe him a day before you run him._ _let him be empty on the match day._ _saddle him in the stable, and fix to him the girths and pannel with shoe-makers wax._ _lead him with all gentleness to his course, and let him smell other horses dung to provoke him to stale_, &c. and lastly, being come to the starting place, rub him well, uncloath him; then take his back, and the word given, with all gentleness and quietness possible, start and away; _and god speed you well_. school _of_ recreation. _how to make artificial fire-works of all sorts, for pleasure_, &c. of artificial fire-works for recreation, there are three general sorts, _viz._ those that ascend or mount in the air. those that consume on the earth: and such as burn on the water. and these are again divided into three particulars, _viz._ for the air, the sky-rocket, the flying saucisson, and balloon: for the earth, the ground-rocket, the fiery lances, and the saucissons descendent. for the water-globes or balls, double rockets, and single rockets; and of these in their particular orders, to make them, and such other matters as may occur relating to fire-works. but before i enter particularly on them, it will not be amiss to give the unlearned instructions for making his moulds for rockets, _&c._ this mould must be of a substantial piece of wood, well season'd, and not subject to split or warp; and first the caliber or bore of it, being an inch in diameter; the mould must be six inches long, and breech an inch and half; the broach that enters into the choaking part, three inches and a half long, and in thickness a quarter of an inch. the rowler on which you wrap the paper or paste board, being three quarters of an inch diameter, and the rammer somewhat less, that it may easily pass and re-pass, made hollow to receive the broach; for the cartoush coffin must be filled with the materials, the broach being in. if the bore be two inches diameter, the rocket must be twelve inches in length: if an inch and a half in bore, then nine inches long, and so proportionably to any other diameter. the cartoush or case must be either strong paper or fine paste-board, choaked within an inch and a quarter of the top, rowled on the rowler with a thin paste, to keep the doublings the higher together, that it may have the greater force and higher flight. having thus far considered your mould and cartoush or case, i proceed to the composition and filling part, &c. _a_ sky-rocket, _how to make it_, &c. in the composition of your filling materials be very cautious that you exceed not the just proportion, for which i shall give directions to be a standard in this case, _viz._ having beat a pound of powder very fine, and sifted it through a lawn sieve that no whole corns remain in it; do the like by two ounces of charcole; then sift them together, so that they may mix well, which done, fill a small rocket with this mixture, and if it break in mounting before it come to the supposed height, or burns out too fierce, then is there too much powder, and more fine sifted charcole must be added; but if there be too much charcole in the composition, then upon tryal it will not ascend, or very little. observe in charging your rocket, at every quarter of an ounce of ingredients or thereabouts, you ram it down very hard, forcing your rammer with a wooden mallet, or some weighty piece of wood, but no iron or stone, for fear any sparkles of fire fly out and take your combustible matter; so fill it by degrees: if you design neither to place stars, quills, or small rockets on its head, you may put in about an inch and a half of dry powder for the bounce, but if you are to place the fore-mention'd things on the head of a great rocket, you must close down the paper or paste-board very hard, and prick two or three holes with a bodkin, that it may give fire to them when it expires, placing a large cartoush or paste-board on the head of the rocket, into which you must put the stars or small rockets, paper-serpents, or quill-serpents; of which i shall speak more hereafter. note further, that if you would have your rocket sparkle much, you must put some grosly bruised salt peter into the composition; but then it must not lie long before it be let off, for fear it give and damp the powder. if you would have it leave a blue stream, as it ascends, put fine beaten and sifted sulphur into it, but of neither of these more than a third part of charcole; and in this manner greater and lesser rockets are made, but the lesser must have more powder and less charcole than the greater, by a fifth part in six. _golden rain, and golden hair._ for golden rain, or streams of fire, that will, when at height, descend in the air like rain: take large goose-quills, take only the hollow quill as long as may be, fill it with beaten powder and charcole; as for the air rocket only add a little powder of sulphur. being hard filled to a quarter of an inch, stop that with wet powder, called wild-fire; place as many as you think convenient on the head of a great rocket, pasted on in a rowl of paper, so that it may not fall off till the rocket bursts, there being a little dry powder in it to force the end when the stream of fire ceases, at which time they taking, will appear like a shower of fire of a golden colour, spreading themselves in the air, and then tending directly downwards. this is to be considered when you stand directly, or something near under them; but if you are at some distance, then they will appear to you like the blazing tail of a comet or golden hair. _silver stars, how to make them._ to make stars that will expand in flame, and appear like natural stars in the firmament for a time: take half a pound of salt-peter, the like quantity of brimstone, finely beaten together, sifted and mingled with a quarter of a pound of gunpowder so ordered: then wrap up the composition in linnen rags or fine paper, to the quantity of a walnut, bind them with small thread, and prick holes in the rag or paper with a bodkin, and place six or ten of them on the head of a great rocket, as you did the quills, and when the rocket expires, they take fire and spread into a flame, hovering in the air like stars, and descend leisurely till the matter is spent that gives them light. _red fiery colour'd stars, how to make them._ take in this case half a pound of powder, and double the quantity of salt-peter; as much fine flower of brimstone as powder, wet them with fair water and oyl of petrolum till they will stick together like pellets; then make them up somewhat less than the former, and rowl them in sifted dry powder, then let them harden, by drying in the sun or air, and place them on a great rocket, as you did the other stars, and you will perceive them when the rocket is at the height, fall, like bodies or globes of fire, in the manner as if real stars were shooting or falling from the sky, for by reason of their wetness or density they cannot expand into flame, which occasions them by the pressure of their weight to descend with greater impetuosity till they waste and vanish into air, _&c._ _another sort of stars that give great reports in the air, as if armies were fighting._ here you must observe to place six, seven, or eight small rockets on the head of a great one, filled only with dry powder, but indifferently rammed, and on the ends of them holes being prick'd through, place any of the sorts of stars, or a mixture, as your fancy leads you; and when the small rockets go off like thunder in the air, the stars will take fire, so that the noise will seem to the spectators as if it proceeded from them, because they will be seen on fire before the sound of the reports can be heard. _to make paste-board mortars for balloons._ these stately prospects of fire are to be carried into the air by the force of powder, by the help of mortars; and therefore the making of the mortars are in the first place to be considered. take a rowler of wood, about 12 inches diameter, and three foot and a half in length, wet strong paste-board, and rowl upon it as close as may be, glewing the paste-board between each rowling; then being about five inches thick, bind over it strong pitch'd rope, though indifferent small: then choak the breech of it, which must be beyond the length of the rowler, with a strong cord; pitch or glue it over that the powder may not force its vent that way, and so when the mortar is well dry'd, draw out the rowler, and make it as even as can be; bore a touch-hole two inches from the breech, that it may enter into the hollow of the mortar, and set it by for use. _to make balloons, the rarity of fire-works._ take strong paper, or paste-board, rowl it on a 12 inch rowler, near as thick as 'tis long, then with a strong small cord choke it at one end only, leaving a port-fire, which is a place to put in a quill of wild-fire, that will last till being shot out of the mortar it comes to its height; then next to that put on an ounce and a half of loose powder, and place in it as many small rockets and stars as it will hold; so choak up the other end quite. you may also put into it little quills of wild-fire, then being closed up, only a port-fire remaining, which made of a quill of wild-fire, as is said, or stopple, to make which in the close of this head i shall instruct you, charge the mortar, being set sloaping upwards with half a pound of corn powder, and it will by giving fire at the priming holes, send the balloon up into the air a prodigeous height, and when it comes to the dry powder, that will break the balloon; and then the stars and rockets in it taking fire, will scatter abroad in various curious figures delightful to the spectators; and as they are cunningly placed, they will represent crowns, cyphers, characters, dates of the year, _&c._ _the airy or flying saucisson, how to make it._ this curious fire-work must be made in the composition matter for filling mostly of corned powder, putting before it when you fill the cartoush or case as much fine sifted powder and charcole as composed for the rocket, will carry it to its height; leave a hole for the port-fire in the choaking as big as a goose-quill will enter filling it with dust-powder and charcole, and so close up the open end, by turning in the paper or paste-board corner-wise, either glewing or waxing it down. _paste-board guns to cast the saucissons into the air, how to make them._ to make these kind of guns, take a rowler, some what less than for the balloon, rowel on it your paste-board, and cord it over with strong packthread, making their touch-holes at the bottom, because they must be placed upright on a plank or board in a row fixed into the plank or board in holes cut proportionable to them, and lashed fast to staples above and beneath with strong cords, and being charged with a quarter of a pound of powder, fire by match or otherways, given to the touch-hole underneath the plank, when the saucisson is lightly put in with the neck or port-fire downward, so that it may touch the powder; and this will serve for use a considerable time. _saucissons for the earth or water, to make them._ make your cartoushes or cases about 9 inches long, and an inch in the diameter of the calliber, by rowling paper or thin paste-board on a woodden rowler; choak the ends only, leaving at one end a passage to thrust in a goose-quill filled with dust-powder and charcole well mixed, at a port-fire, glue them over, or use small cord glued or pitched to strengthen the case that it burst not unseasonably by the force of the composition, with which you must fill them when you have choaked; only at the port-fire end, the composition being about 2 inches, the same as the former, the rest corned powder, having primed and fixed them on a plank in a row about a foot distance, lay a train of stouple, and they will fire gradually, flying about on the earth or the water, according as you place them, giving reports like a volley of muskets. this stouple is useful for trains; and port-fire is no more than cotton-wool well dressed in water and gun-powder dryed in the sun, or in a clean swept warm oven, that it may come somewhat near tinder, but more swift and fiercer in its fire when it has taken. _fire-boxes, to make them._ take a great cartoush or case made, as for the balloon, croud it full of small rockets or serpents, with the choaked part downward, prime them with stouple or wild-fire; fix it firm on a pole, make a priming hole in the side towards the lower end, and run in a quill of fine beaten powder, and they will fly out (the upper end being left open) one by one as swift as may, or if you scatter loose powder they will fly out several together with a prodigeous noise, and breaking, imitating a deal of thunder. _firey lances, how to make them._ these are usually for running on the water making there a very pleasant pass-time: their cartoush or cases are made like the small rocket, with thin paste-board glued and rowled up on a wooden rowler about 9 inches long: if you would have it carry a long fiery tail on the water, the composition must be 2 ounces of charcole, half a pound of brimstone, half a pound of powder, and half a pound of salt-peter, or proportionable for so many as you make, bruised finely and sifted; but if you would have it burn bright like a torch, put only four ounces of powder to the fore-named quantity of brimstone and salt-peter, without any charcole-dust, tying to each line a rod in the same nature as to the sky-rocket; but not of that largeness; and they will float about a long time, making a strange shew in a dark night, their ends being so placed on a frame when you give fire, that they may leap out of them selves one, two, or three, at a time, or as you design them, by putting more or less stouple for port-fires; scatter a very small quantity of loose powder underneath. _to make the appearance of trees and fountains of fire._ this is done by placing many little rockets on the head of a great one, by passing their slender rods through its large cartoush; and if they take fire whilst the rocket is vigorously ascending, they will spring up like branches or fiery trees; but if they go off just as the rocket is spent, and descending, they will appear like a fountain of fire. _girondels or fire-wheels, how to make them._ take a wheel of light wood, like the circle of a spinning-wheel, on which the band is placed; tie small rockets round it in the nature of a band, so fast that they cannot fly off, and so head to tail, that the first fired when it bursts may give fire to the next, whose force will carry the wheel (which must be placed on a strong pin in the axeltree) round so fast that although but one rocket go off at a time, it will seem all on fire, and so continue whilst all are gradually spent; and this especially at the angles of great fire-works are very ornamental. _ground-rockets, and the best way of making serpents._ the mould of the ground-rocket may be made in all particulars like that for the sky-rocket, but less in length and circumference, six, seven, or eight inches being a warrantable length; rowl on the cartoush or case to a moderate thickness; choak it at one end, fill it, the broach being in as the sky-rocket; with this composition. put but an ounce of charcole to a pound of powder, and about half an ounce of salt-peter; beat, mingle and sift them finely; put in about a quarter of an ounce between every raming till it is full with in an inch with corned powder, lightly raming it, leaving only so much room as may choak it at that end, cutting then off what hangs over, and leaving it with a picked end; being thus finished, prime it with a little wet powder, and lay it a drying till you dispose of it for your pass-time. the serpent is a kind of a small rocket; to make them therefore well, make a case of strong white paper, about six inches and a half, the rowler being about the thickness of a small arrow, it must have a head and a broach proportionable, being rowled up hard, past the edg that turns over; choak it with a strong pack-thread, and fill it with a composition of six ounces of powder to one of charcole, both beaten finely, sifted and well mingled; put in a little and little at time in, and every time you put any in, ram it down hard till within an inch full; then put in corned powder, press it down gently, and with the end of your rammer force down the end that stands a little above; so that it may cover the powder, and then seal it down with wax; prime with dust-powder, and a little flower of brimstone, and with your match having a good coal on it, give fire as you see occasion. _fiery globes or comets, to make them._ take half a pound of powder, two onces of brimstone, an ounce of salt-peter, bruise these grosly, and wet them; aqua-vitã¦ and oyl of petrolum, that they may be moulded like a paste, that so they may be made up into balls, as big as ordinary wash-balls; then dry them very hard, and wrap them up in cerecloaths made of brimstone, rosin, and turpentine, in which make a little whole, and prime with wild-fire: put the ball then into a sling, and the wild-fire being touched, throw it up as high as you can into the air, and when the body of the ball fires, it will appear to the beholders like a fiery globe, with a stream or blaze, like as if a comet or blazing star were ascending or descending, according to its height or declination, _to try the goodness of powder, that you may know its strength._ observe whether it be well dryed and corned, which you have taken notice of, and approved; lay a few corns scattered on a sheet of white paper, and fire them; when if they leave a black and sooty mark behind them, with a noisom smell, and sindg the paper, then is that powder gross and earthy, and will fail your expectation, if you use it in your fire-works: but if in the sprinkling and firing there appear few or no marks, or those of a clear bluish colour, then it is airy and light, well made, full of fire, and fit for service; half a pound of it having more strength than a pound of the other. and thus reader, have i given you an insight into the making fire-works, _&c._ such as are very pleasing, and now used on occasions in all christian countries, in making which, by a little you may soon be perfect. _st._ george _and the_ dragon _fighting_ &c. _also mermaids, whales_, &c. form your figures of paste-board, strengthen'd with wicker, small sticks within pasted to the board to keep it hollow, tight, and bearing out; and place a hollow trunk in the body for a large line to pass through, and likewise for a smaller to draw them too, and from each other, that they may the better seem in combats, which must be fattened at the _dragons_ breast, and let one end of the cord be tied, which must pass through the body of st. _george_, turning about a pully at the other end, and fastning it to his back, and tye another at his breast, which must pass through the body of the _dragon_, or a trunk at his back; and so returning about a pully at that end, it must be drawn streight, and fastened to the _dragons_ tail; so that as you turn that wheel, they will run furiously at each other, and as you please you may make them retreat and meet again, soaping the line to make them slip the easier; at the _dragons_ tail, in his mouth and eyes you must fix serpents, or small rockets, which being fired at their setting out, will cause a dreadful sight in a dark night. thus a mermaid, or a whale, may be made to float on the water, but then the figure must be fixed on a convenient piece of board, with two fire wheels fixed on an axle, run through the poised part of the body, by the force of which it moves in a swift line in the water; the wheels must have little rockets or serpents tyed round them, as the girondel before mentioned. _a fire-drake on a line._ having made the figure of paste-board to the proper form of a dragon with paste-board and wicker, as has been taught before, make a hollow trunk through the body of it for a great line to pass through, and fasten small lines to draw it too and from you at the breast and tail of the drake; put into the eyes, mouth and tail of it rockets so fixed, that they cannot fly out, as you may put wild-fire rowled up hard and long in paper: then fire that in the eyes and mouth first, and draw it with pullies from one end of the line to the other; then that in the tail, and draw it back, and it will seem as retreating from danger, with fire coming out of the belly of it. _a burning castle and dragon on the water._ make the dragon of paste-board and wicker, as before; the bottom of the castle of light wood, and the work of paste-board with paper, turrets and battlements of a foot height, in the portal of the castle fasten a line that it may come level with the water and therefore some part of the castle must be under water; this line must be fastened to the other side of the water, or in the water, if it be broad, and admit not the former on a pole or stake knocked down, and pass in a hollow trunk through the belly of a dragon, that being in the castle, may upon firing the rockets, placed advantageously in the tail, eyes and mouth, come out of the castle and move on the line; to meet which, you may at the other end of the line, in the same manner, prepare a neptune in a chariot, or riding on a sea-horse, with a burning trident, or a whale with a rocket or wild-fire in his mouth; which if it ly low, by spouting out, will make the water fly about, as if it spouted fire and water out of its mouth; then by a train fire, some little paste-board guns in the castle, which if the composition of the train be made of wild-fire, or stouple, will go off by degrees, and coming to a train of brimstone, rosin and powder, make the whole frame expire in a terrible blaze. _a wheel of fire-works to run backwards and forwards on the ground._ procure a pair of wheels, being of light wood, like that of a spinning wheel, fasten them on an axel-tree, and place rockets round them, as bands are fastened round a wheel, and so primed at tail and head, that when one expires the other may take fire, half of them placed with their heads and tails the contrary way to the first: so that when the first are spent, and the wheels have run on plain ground a great way, the other firing will turn them again, and bring them to the place where they first set out. _a fire that will burn in the water, or water-ball._ sow up a case of canvas, like that of a foot-ball, but lesser, pitch or glue it over: then take one pound of powder, eight ounces of roch-alom, four ounces of live sulphur, two ounces of camphire, linseed-oyl, and that of petrolum, each an ounce and half, an ounce of oyl of spike, with two ounces of colophonium bruis'd and well mixed together, and stuff the ball hard with it, with a stick pitch or glue it over again, binding it with marline on pitch, on that leave two vents or port-fires, set it on fire, trundle it on the water, and it will burn under it. _the exactest military discipline for the exercise of_ foot _and_ horse, _as in use at this day, at home and abroad, in all the words of command_, &c. to be well disciplin'd and train'd up in military affairs, has been the study and pride of all warlike nations, whereby they have acquired to themselves fame and riches, by being able to defend themselves against invaders, and gain conquests abroad; but above all other, for many hundred years past the _english_ have excelled in this, being much helped by their natural courage. but since i only at this time intended to write to the learner, to train him up in his exercise, by which means his own industry and experience may lead him forth to greater matters. i shall not enumerate the many brave men, who from mean conditions have rais'd themselves by arms, to the highest pitch of honour and preferment; but shew our youth what they are to do and observe in their first training, as to the words of command, to order their arms in their various postures with dexterity. and first of foot exercise, i shall speak of the _pike_, because it is the most ancient, to train which, many, who are now great commanders, have taken it as an honour. _the exercise of the_ pike_, by word of command,_ &c. 1. =pikes take: advance your pikes.= to do this, as the first thing required, move in a direct line with your _pike_ upward, with your left-hand near your side, your right-hand almost as high as you can reach, keeping your left by a depression, as low as you can, your fingers being strait out; and so raise the _pike_ till the butt-end come to your hand, then place it between your breast and shoulder, keeping the butt-end close, that it may be the more steady and upright. 2. =to the front.= to do this, put your left-hand on your _pike_, even with the top of your shoulder, keeping your fingers strait, and bring your _pike_ right before you with a swift motion; drawing your right-heel into your left-instep, and so keep the _pike_ strait. 3. =charge.= here you must fall back with your right-leg, placing the heel of your left foot against the middle of your right, and bring down your _pike_ with a quick motion, support it with your left-elbow, and charge breast high; and upon yielding your body forward, bend your left-knee to fix your self firmer, holding the butt end of your _pike_ in the palm of your right-hand, your left-toe pointing in a line with the spear of the _pike_, your feet set at a moderate distance: then bring it down somewhat beneath your breast, be cautious of clattering, and when it is charged, close it to your breast. 4. =to the right four times.= here turn your left-toe to the right, then make your left-heel come up to your right-instep with a sudden motion, recovering your _pike_ strait before you, and having turn'd, fall back with your right-leg, and charge as before. 5. =to the right about.= now by turning your left-toe, bring it to the right about, bringing up your right-heel; your _pike_ being recovered, charge with much swiftness. 6. =as you were.= to do this, by turning to the _left about_, bring up your left toe; so bringing your _pike_ recovered, observe that your left hand be never higher than your mouth, your feet placed in order, and when turn'd, you must fall back with your right-leg and charge, bringing your _pike_ strait up without any clattering. 7. =to the left four times.= 8. =to the left about.= 9. =as you were.= 10. =advance your pike.= these must be done, as has been shewed in the right, only making your observation of eight left motions, &c. and the better to do this, bring your right-heel to your left-instep; your _pike_ being before you, fall out with your right-foot, and so bring your _pike_ to your right-thigh. 11. =shoulder your pike.= here extend your fingers on the left-hand, and lay it on the _pike_ level with your shoulder; make your right-heel come up even with your left-instep, your _pike_ right before you, fall back with your right-leg, and as far as may be put back your right-arm, keeping your _pike_ about half a foot from your side, your eye fixed on the spear directly to the rear, your _pike_ sloped: then forsake it with your left-hand, and bring in your right-leg, laying your _pike_ on your right-shoulder, closing your elbow to your body, the butt of your _pike_ being about half a foot from the ground, in the middle of the distance. 12. =charge to the front.= in doing this, fall back with your right-leg, keeping as much as may be your arm back, and the spear exactly to the rear, sloaping the _pike_ to the same height as shouldering; then bring with your left-hand the butt-end backwards, turning the head with your right; so quit it with that hand, then taking hold on the butt-end, charge breast high, keeping the palm of your hand open against the butt-end, your left-elbow under the _pike_, and your left-toe in line with the spear; and when you charge it must be directly forward, your left-heel being just against the middle of your right. 13. =shoulder as you were.= here raise your _pike_ with both hands, so quit it with the right, and with the left turn the head backwards, the spear even with the rear; so with your right-hand seize it again as high as you can reach with little straining, and stand with it from your body aslope; bring up your right-leg, and then forsake your _pike_ with your left-hand, and lay it on your shoulder, ever keeping the spear in a direct point to the rear, not crossing your fellows. 14. =charge to the right.= in this case fall back with your right-arm and leg, the spear being kept in the rear sloping at the height of shouldering; then turn your left-toe to the right, suffering the right to fall behind the left-foot; so that the middle of your right-foot may be over against your left-heel; then bring up your _pike_ in this action, and turn backwards the butt-end by your right-side; then pressing it in your right palm, charge. 15. =shoulder as you were.= make your left-toe come to the left, and the middle of your right-foot come also against your left-heel, with your _pike_ up; and then turn the head to the right, (that is) directly to the rear, doing it at one motion: so take hold of your _pike_ with your right-hand, and keep it sloped with both hands a little distance from your body; as in shouldering, at what time bring up your right-leg, and lay your _pike_ on your shoulder. 16. =charge to the right about.= in this case give back with your hand and leg, then stand with your _pike_ a little distant from your side, and turning your left-toe to the right about, bring the butt end of your _pike_ to the right-side, falling back with your right-leg and charge, keeping the spear all the while to the rear a shouldering height; and when you are to face to the right about, level your _pike_ and charge. 17. =as you were.= in this, turn your left-toe to the left about, advancing your right-foot a moderate step, that the middle of it may stand against your left-heel; then with your left-hand bring the butt-end by your left-side, taking notice the spear be exactly with the rear a shouldering height; then lay on your right-hand as high as you can easily reach, and stand with it in form; after which, bring up your right-leg, and shoulder. 18. =charge to the left.= here fall back with your left-arm and leg, as in the former chargings: turn the left-toe and the butt-end of your _pike_ with your left-hand to the right, after which, bring up your left-leg, and charge. 19. =as you were.= raise the spear with both your hands, turn the left-toe to the right, and so fall back with your left-leg and arm, keeping your _pike_ from your side, the spear to the rear; then bring up your left-leg, and shoulder. 20. =charge to the left about.= here fall with your arm and leg back, bringing the _pike_ over your head with both your hands, the spear directly to the rear at a shouldering height: turn your left-toe to the left about, then bring up your right-toe, that the middle may come with your left-heel, and charge. 21. =port.= observe here, as in charging in the front; being wary that you sink not the spear of your _pike_, rest it between the thumb and fore-finger, keeping your elbow close to your side. 22. =comport.= as far as may be bring your left-hand backward, at the same time stretching out the right, make thereupon a step forward with the right-foot, grasping fast the _pike_ as high as you can reach with the right-hand, not tossing the spear too high; then forsake it with your left-hand, and bring back your right-leg even with your left; then close it to your side, keeping the spear the height of your head. 23. =charge to the front.= here extend your right-arm, advancing at the same time your right-leg, drawing back your left-hand as far as may be; and bringing your _pike_ forward, give a step back with your right-leg, and take hold of the butt with your right-hand; then charge; and in all chargings observe it be done breast high. 24. =fire.= herein face to the right about, suffering the spear of your _pike_ to fall behind, you; after which, quit your right-hand from the butt-end, without any motion of the left, and be cautious not to strike upon the spear. 25. =charge as you were.= here turn to the left about, place the butt-end in the palm of your right-hand, and charge, the spear being kept an even height. 26. =advance your pike.= in this exercise bring your right-heel to your left-instep, your _pike_ directly before you to the recovery; and so fall out with your right-foot that it may come even with your left, and so bring the _pike_ to your right thigh. 27. =order your pikes.= raise your left-hand, so that it may come even with the upper part of your shoulder, place it on your _pike_, stretching out your fingers; then sinking your left-hand, raise your right; and then raise the _pike_, that when the butt-end your right-hand may be against your eye; keep the _pike_ near your head by clapping the butt-end to the latchet of your shoe; and here all the butt-ends of as many as are exercised must fall to the ground at one and the same time. 28. =pikes to you inside order.= place the butt-end on the inside your right-foot to the middle, not moving your foot, but only your _pike_. 29. =lay down your pikes.= as many as exercise in this case, must step altogether with their right-legs; stoop together with a very quick motion, and lay their _pikes_ down very strait with their right-hands. 30. =quit your pikes.= fall back with your left-leg, bringing it even with your right: then quit your _pike_ absolutely, and rise up with a quick motion. 31. =handle your pikes.= here you must step forward in a quick motion with your left-leg, and then as many as exercise must stoop together, and extend their right-hands as far as they can reach, and then grasp the _pike_. 32. =order you pikes.= with your right-hand raise the pike, and step back with your left leg, with a swift motion, clapping the butt-end of the _pike_ to facilitate the raising of it on the inside of your right-foot about the middle. 33. =pikes to your outside order.= in this exercise place the butt-end of your _pike_ on the out-side of your foot, not moving your foot, but the _pike_. 34. =advance your pike.= this must be done, as the fore-going; and thus much for the exercise of the _pike_ in particular by it self, till i come to speak of its exercise conjunctly with the _musquet_, in the general exercising a company or battalion. _the words of command in the exercise of the_ musquet, _and how they are to be observed and performed_. when you enter on this exercise, be sure to keep your footing firm, your feet at a moderate distance; that at all times, and on all occasions, you may retain your full strength. observe moreover to keep the right heel firm, and set the right foot steady, and then attend to the words of command, which you are summoned to do by this expression of the commander, viz. _musketiers, have a care of the exercise, and carry your arms well._ after which, the proper words of command follow in their order. 1. =lay your right-hand on your musket.= here the lock being uppermost, turn the barrel towards you, and extending your fingers, lay your right-hand directly behind the lock; so close the butt end to your shoulder, suffering the _musket_ to be in all parts of an equal height. 2. =poise your musket.= in doing this, you must hold it with a hard grasp, facing to the right, and turning with a quick motion on your left-heel, your _musket_ kept directly before you the height of it, between your shoulders; your right elbow on your side, keeping your feet at a moderate distance, that when you turn about, your left-toe may stand to the front, and your right-toe as you face to the left; let your left-heel be against the middle of your right-foot; and by such means you will be in a resting posture. 3. =rest your musket.= here slide your _musket_ down to your left-hand bearing your arm as low as possible without stooping, and so receive your _musket_ where the scowrer enters into the stock, touching with your hand no part of the barrel, keeping it about half a foot from your side sloping, your right-hand, with your fingers, extended being behind the lock. 4. =cock your musket.= place the right-thumb and your finger behind the trigger, so clap your _musket_ against your thigh, and cock; keeping it that it slip not your thumb, now removed steady on the head of the cock. 5. =guard your musket.= bring it with a very swift motion strait before you, to recover your left-hand even with your mouth, about half a foot distance from it, not suffering your _musket_ to sink, nor stooping your body, observing in bringing up the _musket_ before, which is a recovering, that the right-heel be brought to the left-instep, your _musket_ being perpendicular. 6. =present.= here fall back with your right-leg, that the middle of the right foot may be against the left-heel; cause the butt-end to rise to your shoulder, fixing it firm, and keep your right elbow even with the height of the piece, being in a readiness with the fourth finger of your right-hand to pull the trigger, bowing the left-knee keeping the right firm and steady, and so level your _musket_ breast high. 7. =fire.= keep here an exact motion in drawing the trigger, every one drawing at once, so that the whole fire of a company or battalion may be as of one report: keep your body steady, and your _musket_ hard against your shoulder after you have fired, till the next word of command is given, _viz_. 8. =recover your arms.= here let the butt-end sink in both your hands, and bringing it strait before you, keep your right hand under the cock and the left even with your mouth. 9. =half bend your musket.= fall back with your right-leg, and let the _musket_ at once rest, placing the right-thumb upon the cock, and the fingers of that hand behind the trigger; then closing it to your thigh, half bend the cock, and keep it rested with your fingers extended. 10. =clean the pan.= do this with the ball of your thumb, pressed into the pan, keeping your fingers of the right-hand behind the lock. 11. =handle your primer.= take the little end between your finger and thumb, turning the other end to the back of your hand, your arm bearing backwards. 12. =prime.= level your piece, and strike your bruised powder into the pan half full, or some what more, keeping your left-toe to the front. 13. =shut your pan.= this do by using your two first fingers, casting back your primer and bringing up your right-heel to your left-instep, your _musket_ strait up before you, as in the recovery, with the barrel towards you; do it with a quick motion with the thumb of your right-hand on the top of the steel, levelling your left with your mouth. 14. =blow off the loose corns.= bring your mouth within four inches of the pan, give a strong blast without declining your head, casting out your arm, and suffering the _musket_ to sink from its former posture. 15. =cast about and charge.= advance your right leg, turn the barrel of your _musket_ downwards, bring it to your left-side a little backward, with your left-hand, not touching the barrel with your fingers; place the toes of your right foot to the front and the right-heel against the middle of the left-foot, ballancing your _musket_ in the left hand, the muzzle to the proper front, in an equal height, half a foot from you, joining your right-hand to the muzzle, your thumb extended to the side of the barrel. 16. =handle your charger.= gripe fast your bandilier or charger, hold it even with the muzzle of the _musket_ underneath, about an inch distant. 17. =open your charger with your teeth.= in this case, bring it up to your mouth without declining your head, then bring your charger within an inch of your muzzle, about an inch from it, covering your chargers mouth with the ball of your thumb. 18. =charge with powder.= pat the powder into the barrel with a quick motion, and put the charger underneath as before. 19. =draw forth your scowrer.= in this let fall your charger, and upon turning your hand, draw forth your scowrer at three motions, holding it level the height of your forehead, with an extended arm, as if you designed to dart it. 20. =shorten it to an inch.= turn the great end of your scowrer towards you, sinking it till within an inch of your hand, rest it some what below your right-breast, bearing forward a little. 21. =charge with bullet.= take the bullet out of your mouth with your right-hand, put it into the barrel with a swift motion, holding the big end of your scowrer near the muzzle of your musket. 22. =ram down powder and ball.= grasp full with your thumb and fore-finger from the muzzle, your thumb on the top of the scowrer reserving a handful in your hand. 23. =withdraw your scowrer.= your hand, thumb and fore-finger turned towards the muzzle, clear your scowrer at three motions, and hold it up even with your forehead, extending your arm as if you were about to dart it. 24. =shorten it to an handful.= turn the butt-end of your scowrer towards you; sink it till within an inch of the end, letting it rest against your body a little below your right-breast, the scowrer sloping. 25. =return your scowrer.= put it up in its proper place; grasp the muzzle of your _musket_ with your right-hand, extending your thumb upon the scowrer, keep it half a foot distant from your side. 26. =poise your musket.= here before you bring up your _musket_ with your left-hand, grasp it under the cock with your right, falling with your right-leg to your left: keep it poised against your nose, and when faced to the front, let your right-elbow rest upon your body. 27. =shoulder your musket.= in this do as has been taught in the like case before. 28. =order your musket.= sink a little your right-hand, and take hold on the stock on the top of the scowrer with your left-hand, then suffer that hand to sink, and take hold on the muzzle with the right-hand, letting the butt-end easily sink near the ground; then let it after a little pause come down: as many as exercise grounding them together, then close to the right-foot, and place the butt-end about the middle of it, your right-hand an inch below the muzzle, the lock being outward. 29. =lay down your musket.= turning it with the back upwards, step forwards with your left-leg, so with your right-hand place it on the ground, that it may lye with the rest in a strait line; this some call grounding a _musket_. 30. =quit your musket.= here stand upright with a quick motion, rising with a falling back of your left-leg to your right. 31. =handle your musket.= with your left-leg step forward, and lay your right hand on the muzzle. 32. =order your musket.= raise the muzzle, and fall back with your left-leg to your right, turning the lock outwards by the middle of your foot. and thus much for the exercise of the _musket_ by it self, which may be much advantageous to young trainers, who have occasion to be called or sent out upon duty in the city or country and country militia of the _trained bands_, or for any other who is desirous to be knowing in, and entering upon military affairs, from whence i shall proceed to the brief exercise of the _pike_ and _musket_, jointly, as they are exercised in companies, battalions, _&c._ _the exercise of_ pike _and_ musket _jointly._ we now supposing the _muskets_ shouldered, and the _pikes_ advanced; the word next is, 1. =musketiers, make ready.= hereupon you must perform all the postures and motions together, till you stand cock'd and guarded with your _musket_ before you; and for the better security your thumb on the cock; whereupon the _pikes_ are to be recovered before the _pike-men_: the butt-ends in the palms of their hands, and the spear upright on their left hands to the height of their mouths, when the commander gives the word =charge.= then the _muskets_ and _pikes_ must be brought at once, by turning the left-toe that way the charge is made, and the left-heel against the middle of the right-foot in every charge, charging directly forward; not at the first charging, closing the _pikes_ to your breasts; but in bringing down the _pike_, charge a little way distant, and when they are brought down, then close them. the _charge_ is, _to the right_ four times; then to the _right about_, and so, _as you were_. then to the _left charge_ four times; then to the _left about_, and so, _as you were_. furthermore the _pike-men_ must turn as the _musketiers_, bearing up their right-heels to their left-insteps, their arms being extended as they turn; so that they bring their _muskets_ straight before them, carrying their left-hands as high as their mouths, bearing back their arms; and when they face, fall back with their right-legs, not bringing down their arms till the word _charge_ is given; and then it must be done with a decent quick motion, not suffering the _pikes_ to clatter. after this, the words of command are, _viz._ =recover your arms.= =half bend your muskets.= =poise your muskets.= =shoulder your muskets.= this exercise is to be observ'd, as is before laid down in the exercise of the _musket_. the _musketiers_ upon this, being at shoulder; and the _pikes_ that stood recovered falling out with their right-legs, whereupon the _pikes_ are brought to their thighs in their advance. then the next is. =poise your muskets.= upon this, the _pike-men_ with their left hands must grasp their _pikes_ over against their shoulders, after which the words are, =order your arms.= =pikes, to your inside order.= =lay down your arms.= =quit your arms.= =to the right about.= =march.= you must observe these, as directed in the exercise, only over and above, when you are clear of your arms; you must disperse, and upon the beat of _drum_, close hastily together with a huzza, your swords unsheathed, with their points upwards. then further observe the words of command, _viz._ =return your swords.= =handle your arms.= =order your arms.= =pikes, to your out-side order.= =advance.= in ordering your arms, observe you make a little stop before you let the butt-ends come to the ground; so that each one may bear you company, and they may fall together at once; and after they are laid down, and quitted, you must stand up together so suddenly, as all your risings may appear as it were but one motion. when you march from your arms, step front and rear at once, with the left-feet marching but a little distance. then lay your right-hand on your sword, taking hold of your scabbard with your left; and then drawing, hold your swords upright before you; after you have held them there a while, bring them down at one motion, and when by command your swords are returned, stand upright to your arms, facing to your proper front; and if any thing is to be further known, consider the exercise of the _pike_ and _musket_ distinctly, and you will be informed to your satisfaction. _of the match-lock._ these locks were formerly in more use than _fire-locks_, and at this day they are sometimes mixed among them; wherefore i shall speak somewhat relating to the words of command, that seem to differ from the _fire-lock_, _viz._ =1. lay down your match,= =2. handle your match,= =3. blow your match,= =4. cock and try your match,= =5. return your match.= all these chiefly consist in keeping your match in order, with a good hard and well lighted coal, fastning it on command, advantageous in your skrew, blowing the coal, and so by pulling the trigger, trying your pan with false flashes, laying it down at command, and by the same order taking it up again; shortning it to the pan, that it may give true fire, and upon firing, to return it, and recover the coal, if it be shattered by the force of the powder. you must observe also to keep your match dry, that on occasion you may not be disappointed. and this in brief is all materially relating to the _match-lock_; the other postures of the _musket_ are all ready described, being sufficient to direct the exercise; yet seeing many lay much stress on the beat of _drum_, take that a long with you, as it relates to exercise, and so i shall take leave of the foot, and make a visit to the horse. _exercise by beat of drum, relating to the foot._ there are usually observed in this, six points, which are called points of war, and are said to be semi-vocal; because by them the soldiers understand what is to be done; and can distinguish their duty and exercise; and of these in their order. 1. _the call._ this is to summon the soldiers together to their arms, or upon any other occasion, as to hear proclamation, or receive directions, _&c._ from the officers, and are not without leave to ramble, especially in time of war, beyond the hearing of it, under great penalties. 2. _the troop._ when the soldiers hear this, they must advance their _pikes_, shoulder their _muskets_, and close their ranks and files to order, following their leaders or commanders to the place of rendezvous, quarters, or elsewhere. 3. _the march._ when you hear this, you must betake you to your open orders in ranks, shoulder both _musket_ and _pike_; and so as the _drum_ beats, you march slower or quicker. 4. _the preparative._ is to warn you to close your proportionable or due distance, when you are to prepare for battle or skirmish; and to see every thing be in order that may turn to advantage. 5. _the battle._ this is by some called the charge, or signal to charge the enemy, and is beat in the beginning of the fight to animate the soldiers courage. 6. _the retreat._ this is beat when being over-powered, it is thought convenient to draw off and save a total rout, or sometimes when an enemy you suppose stronger than your self advances towards you to engage, but by retreating you avoid him. there are two more things on the _drum_, somewhat to our purpose, _viz._ 1. _the tatto or tapto._ this is used in a rounds and garisons, to give notice to the soldiers and inhabitants when they ought to repair to their quarters and houses. 2. _revalley._ is to let them know when it is time to rise in the morning, and attend on their duty also. in garisons, to let the people know when its safe to go abroad, the out scouts being relieved. _the exercise of horse in troops or squadrons_, &c. the exercise of the horse is various from that of the foot, and therefore that i may not be wanting in what is necessary to the young soldier in their exercising in the county troops, or those that may enter the present service abroad, i shall endeavour to give the words of command proper with their explanation. and first, when troop or squadron is drawn out to exercise, i suppose their _carbines_ and _pistols_ loaden, and the corporals passing through the ranks to see they are all ready, upon which, observe the chief officer commands silence, and gives the following words of command, _viz._ 1. =lay your right hands on your swords.= 2. =draw your swords.= 3. =put your swords in your bridle-hand.= 4. =lay your hands on your pistols.= 5. =hold up your hands. give fire.= when you have fired, let not your pistol-hand sink till the next word of command, _viz._ 6. =return your pistols.= and this you must observe in firing to the left and right; then, 7. =lay your hands on your carbines.= 8. =advance your carbines.= 9. =cock your carbines. fire.= 10. =let fall your carbines.= 11. =take your swords from your bridle-hands.= these must be done with a swift and exact motion, all as near as may be doing it at one and the same time. if a squadron of horse is to wheel to the right, the right-hand-man must not close to the left, as has in ancient times been; for that many times disorders the rank; but you must keep your ground, suffering the left to come about whilst you only turn your horses heads, observing your left-hand-man. _to close the file._ _the right wing file stand._ 1. =close your files.= 2. =to the right.= 3. =to the left as you were.= 4. =to the left wing, and stand.= 5. =to the left by files close the squadron.= 6. =to the right as you were.= 7. =the right and left wing files stand.= 8. =by half ranks, close files to the right and left.= and by closing files you may cleave or divide the squadron. _the order of closing ranks._ 1. =file-leader stand.= } { or open on the front, 2. =by ranks close the= } { or the first distances. =squadron to the front.= } { 3. =on the front as= } { and so be cautious in =you were.= } { observing each motion. _how doubling ranks must be ordered._ 1. =by half files to the right, double your ranks to the front.= 2. =file-leaders, advance your ranks, file-leaders, take your ground.= and in this manner command likewise to the left, the order being one and the same in the words of command. [again,] 3. =the first half files stand.= 4. =by half file-leaders on the left-wing, double your rank to the front.= now to reduce this, take the following method; 1. =right-wing half ranks, advance your ranks.= 2. =half file-leader take your ground.= 3. =the first half file stand.= 4. =by half file-leaders on the right and left-wings, double your ranks to the front, carocoling to the right and left. then the last half file stand, and the first half file by carocol in the right and left on the wings; then double our ranks to the rear.= here observe the first file must open the half rank to the right and left, the first half file by carocol. then =to the right and left double your ranks to the rear.= here observe the last half file must open the half rank to the right and left. as for the word _carocol_, it signifies no more when you wheel by it, than that it is made by the depth of the flank of the squadron, by which order not the files, but the ranks make the motion. there is an other word which some may not well understand at the first setting out, which is called _controversion_; and this in wheeling is performed by the front of the squadron, so that whilst the rank makes the motion, the file remains. _instructions for wheeling, with the proper words of command._ when the word is given, _viz._ _to the right by conversion_, understand that you must close your right-leg to the horse, your knee touching that of your right-hand-mans, and in like manner observe in the word of command to the left; as when it is said, _close to the left_, then must the leg be closed. by half ranks and conversion, divide the squadron into two _troops_. if you would reduce the squadron, the word of command is. _by controversion_: the squadron into one troop, else the left-wing advance by conversion. when you wheel by carocol, observe the word of command as follows, _the right-wing to the left by carocol, face about to the rear_: or it may be done by half ranks in this manner, by quarter ranks, and by carocol, divide the squadron into three troops. then if you would reduce them, order quarter ranks and troops into squadrons. if the volt, face or facing about be required, observe thus, _face about to the right: face to the right by controversion; face about by carocol to the right: face about to the left by half files: face about to the right and left._ and thus much may serve for wheeling. _the manner of filing off._ in this case observe, to file by ranks on the right-wing, from the squadron, _file off by ranks, on the left-wing, from the squadron on the right_, _file off by three files from the squadron, the left-wing_: and this is found the most expedient way, though some have used to file off by ranks. _in_ hay, _what order is to be considered in drawing up._ do this, by half ranks to the right: _to the right and left drawing in_ hay: _to the front_. and if it requires to be reduced again, then proceed by carocol, _viz._ _to the right and left as you were._ _by half ranks, and by carocol to the right and left._ then draw up in _hay_ to the rear. in reduction the command is; _to the front as you were._ _by half ranks to the right and left, and draw up in_ hay. reduction by carocol. _to the right draw up in_ hay. reduction by carocol. _to the left as you were._ _of doublings._ doublings are very useful, especially in strengthening any party, that needs succour in the battle; and is to be noted under these general heads. 1. doubling of length, front and rear. 2. doubling of depth, both flanks. but in the particular, they are numbered six, that is to say, first of ranks, when every rank doubles into the odd, and if it so fall out, that the odd ranks are to double, then must the body face to the rear, without any word of command expected. 3. half files. 4. bringers up. here they are held to double when the rear is doubled into the front. 5. in doubling the rear observe it done, when the half files double the rear. 6. here take notice that doubling of half ranks must be by one rank doubling the other. _the noble science of defence, in all its useful particulars, for defending and offending, with the rapier or final sword; after the exactest method now in use._ this science, if well understood, as to the fining and using it, is not only a noble exercise, but of great importance to the saving our lives on emergent occasions, if it extend not to vain-glory and presumption, by too much relying on our skill, to carry us into quarrels, which we may reasonably, and without loss of honour or reputation avoid. wherefore i have thought it convenient to lay down such rules as may enable the learner to proceed in the practice. the first thing to be considered in this case, is, the sword it self, understanding only in this the small sword or rapier, which is divided into two parts, _viz._ the hilt and the blade. the hilt is again divided into three parts, _viz._ the pommel or ball at the far end, sometimes round and sometimes oval in shape. this keeps the hilt fast, by being well riveted, and by its poise makes the sword well mounted, or light before the hand. the next is that part on which you grasp your hand, commonly called the handle: and then the shell, which is that part of the hilt next the blade, to preserve your hand (if you are any thing weary in managing it) from a thrust or blow. the blade is divided into two parts only. the first next to the hilt, being termed the strong part or fort. the other, which is the extream, is termed the feeble, or they are otherways termed the prime, and the second. the strong fort or prime of the blade, is measured from the shell to the middle of the blade, and being the strongest, is made use of in parying, or to put by thrusts or blows. the feeble, weak or second part, is accounted from the middle to the point, and is properly made use of in offending or giving thrusts or blows; and thus much may serve for the description of the sword: now i proceed to the explanation of the terms, fit to be known by a practitioner. _a guard._ this is a proper posture you must place your self in, for the better defending your self from the thrusts or blows of those you fence with, or defend your self from. _to parie._ observe that this is to put by a blow or thrust, that it may not touch you, but be cast off without hurt or danger. _quart._ here you must hold the nails of your sword-hand upwards, with a steady arm; and then it is said to be held in quart. _terce._ this is the contrary to the former, for the nails of your hand must be held downwards; and then the sword is held in _terce_. _within the sword._ this is that part of your body, (which having your right-side towards your adversary) is between your sword and left-breast. _within the sword._ this is the part of the body, that (when you hold your sword towards your left-side) is above it the breadth of your body. _the approach or advance._ this is done, when being out of your adversaries reach, or at a pretty distance from him; you make your approach or advance towards him. _to retire or retreat._ this is when you are within your adversaries reach, that you get put of it by stepping or jumping backwards; which you must observe to do on a strait line. _measure._ this is only a distance between you and your adversary, which must be cautiously and exactly observed when he is thrusting at you; so that you may be without his measure or reach, and that taking the advantage of this, it may be so, that when you thrust your thrusts may be home. _to break measure._ observe here, just as your adversary is thrusting at you, at his full elonge, he may come short of you, because you are, or escape out of his measure, or reach, and so break his measure, of which i shall say somewhat more hereafter. _to elonge._ this is to streach forward your right arm and leg, and keep a close left-foot; and this you do when you give in a thrust, and when you do it, you are said to make an elonge. _respost._ this is when you give in a thrust before you recover your body, receiving a thrust after your adversary hath paried your sword. then is it said to be a thrust on the respost or back of the parade, which is the surest and safest you can give. _feinting or falsifying._ this is a dodging or deceiving your adversary, making him believe you give back in earnest, and make an offer to thrust in one place when you really design to do it in another. _beating._ this is no other than striking the feeble of your adversaries sword with the edg and fort of yours, either with your right-hand only, or the help of your left, joyned to the blade, about a foot from the hilt; and so you will cause the beat to have the greater spring or force. _battery._ the difference from beating in this, is only striking with the edg of the feeble, upon the edg of the feeble of your adversaries sword, though beating secures his sword a great deal better than battery. _binding._ this method is taken to secure your adversaries sword, with eight or ten inches of yours upon five or six inches of his. _caveating or disengaging._ here you must, if you can, flip your adversaries sword, when you perceive him about to bind or secure yours. _to take time._ in taking time, you must observe never to thrust, but when you see a fair opportunity, or otherwise it is the thrusting at your adversary when he is making the feint, or the flipping of him, when you perceive him about to bind or bear your sword. _counter temps._ this is when you thrust without a good opportunity, or when you thrust, at the same time your adversary do's the like. _quarting on the strait line._ this is done by carrying your head and shoulders very much back from your adversaries sword, and are giving in a thrust within it, and that each of you at that time receive a thrust. _quarting of the strait line, called de quarting._ here you must observe to throw in your left-foot, and body backwards off the strait line, towards your adversary, keeping your right-foot firm. _volting._ this is a leaping by your adversaries left-side quite out of his reach or measure, which on many emergent occasions is very proper. these terms a practitioner must be knowing in before he proceeds to the other lessons, or adventures on sharp, especially in earnest; from whence i proceed to the next thing materially to be considered, which is the _holding of the sword._ in doing this according to art, and to the most advantage, hold your thumb on the broad side of the handle, and your fingers quite round it; hold it in this manner firm and fair; so that your adversary, with the least sudden beat or twist, may not force it out of your hand, which the hazard in holding it loosely may occasion to your damage. _of keeping a guard._ the guards are in general but two; the one in _quart_ and the other in _terce_; but again the _quart_ guard is subdivided into two, _viz._ the _quart_ with the strait point, and the _quart_ with the point sloaping near to the ground. the _terce_ is so likewise divided, that is, the _terce_ with the point higher than the hilt, and the _terce_ with the point lower than the hilt. there is yet another guard, that requires you to hold your sword with both your hands; and of these in their order. _of the quart guard, with the strait point._ you have two ways with this guard to defend your self, either by parying or using contraries to what your adversary plays, as i shall more fully shew you when i come to discourse of the five parades; however here observe in the strait guard, which is most in use, to keep a thin body, which is done by shewing your right-side to your adversary, managing your feet in a strait line from him; so that for your right he cannot see your left-leg, yet set them not too wide, for that will make your elong the shorter; nor too close, for that will hinder the firmness of standing; and let the point of your right foot be turned somewhat outwards from the strait line, but the broad side of your left must look towards your adversary. you are also to sink with your thighs your left-knee, a little more bent than your right, which may be done by your leaning somewhat back on your left-thigh; when you present your sword, you must hold it with your nails upwards, as has been directed in _quart_. the hilt of your sword must be as high as your right-pap, keeping your arm a little bent, for the better and easier pursuing your adversary; or for the quicker giving in a thrust: the point must be towards your adversaries right-side, two or three inches lower than the hilt, your left-hand held up as high as your left-ear, about half a foot from it, the palm directly against your adversaries face, your fingers pointing as it were towards him. _the quart-guard, with the sloping point._ in this guard you must stand much straiter than in the former, the point of your sword sloping within half a foot of the ground, your hilt as low as your wast, your arm bended, and the nails of your sword-hand between _terce_ and _quart_; here you are also to make use of your left-hand, and therefore the more readily to do it, you must advance your left shoulder almost as far forward as your right, keeping your belly in as much as may be, so that it stand well, and your breast out, your left-hand as high as the side of your head, though about half a foot from it. this is a very open guard, yet to those that know not how to pursue it, it is much surprizing. and you may pursue this; first, by raising up or gathering your adversaries sword. secondly, by striking at his sword, and making half thrusts at the body, by which he will be doubtful when you intend to give in your thrust, and finding an opportunity give it home; and ever when you persue this guard, let your left-hand be in a readiness to parie your opponents thrust, if he thrust just as you are thrusting, which is the main defence on this guard. thirdly you may give a stroak at his left-hand; after you give a beat at his sword, and see if by so doing, you can force him to betake himself to another guard. fourthly, you may volt, and in your so doing, give him the thrust, which being clearly done, will mainly surprize him. _the-terce-guard, with the point higher than the hilt._ in this you must hold the nails of your sword-hand downwards, as in terce, and your hand lower than in the quart-guard, with a strait point, presenting the point of your sword towards your adversaries left-shoulder; if he be a tall man; but if short, then to his left-eye, keeping your arm somewhat bent, for the better persuing: lean therefore a little forward with your body, and make use of your left-hand for a parade, holding it somewhat lower than in the former guard. the rest of your body being kept, as in the quart-guard, with the strait point. this guard may be pursued either with striking, binding, volting, or passing, for a feint on this guard will signifie little or nothing if your adversary understand it; for as in no guard, he is to answer feints, least of all in this, the right defence being to secure your self without your sword, which is done by presenting your sword to the left-shoulder of your adversary, or as said, his eye, so that your body be quite covered without your sword. _the terce-guard, with the point lower than the hilt._ here you must in this bow your head, holding up your arm high, so that if you come to give a thrust, your head may be, as it were, under it, your nails being in quart till you make your thrust, and then change them into terce; your feet must be kept at their due distance, and not as at a full elong; your sword must be presented towards your adversaries left-side, and you must make use of your left-hand for the parade, and it is to be pursued and defended, as the forgoing terce-guard, only in defending it, you must not make so much use of your left-hand, but more of your sword. _the guard of both hands._ this is a guard, that i find not any proper name for, though it is sometimes used as very necessary, how ever, as to the holding your sword in this guard, keep your body exactly in the posture of the quart-guard with the strait point; but joyn your left-hand to your sword, about eight or ten inches from the hilt, the blade being held between your formost finger and thumb, secure your self within your sword, as soon as you present it, _viz._ present the point towards your adversaries right-thigh, with your point sloping towards the ground a little; for to pursue this guard, you must endeavour to take away your adversaries left-hand by striking at it, and immediately after the stroak, proffer a thrust at his body, that he may be doubtful when you really intend to give in your thrust; and indeed the pursuit is much like that of the quart-guard, with the sloping point, and thus much for the five sorts of guards. _of the several parades._ the parades are generally two, but are sub-divided as the guard, and those two are the parade in quart, and the parade in terce, which are as is said, divided again into the parade in quart, with the point a little higher than the hilt. the parade in quart, with the point sloping towards your adversaries right-thigh, and as though without it. 2. the parade in terce, with the point a little higher than the hilt, and the parade in terce, with the point sloping towards your adversaries thigh on the left-side. there is yet an other parade of some use, and used by many fencing masters, which may be properly termed counter-caveating parade; by reason what ever lesson your adversary makes use of, or upon what side so ever he thrusts, if you make use of this parade, as you ought, you will undoubtedly meet with his sword, and the easier cross his purpose, than by any of the former; and of these i shall give proper directions, 1. the quart parade, or the parade within the sword, is so called, because in putting by the thrust, you do it on the inside your sword, or on that side the nails of your hand are next. 2. the next is called the terce parade, or the parade without the sword; for here, contrary to the former, you put by the thrust upon that side which is without the sword, and as the other is termed the quart, for as much as it is within your sword, or on that side your nails look to; so this is called terce because it is without your sword, or on that side the back of your hand is to. observe a little more, _viz._ when you are to hold your hand or nails in terce, that you hold your nails quite downward; and now to parie these five several ways. you must do the first parade in quart, with the point somewhat higher than the hilt, _viz._ when you are standing to your guard, if your adversary offers to give a home thrust on that side his sword lieth, which i presume to be within your sword, without disengaging and is the simplest and plainest thrust that can be given with the small sword; yet frequently it surprizes a man, i say, when so it is, that when you perceive your adversary offer to give a home thrust, which observe by keeping your eye steady on the hilt of his sword; you must then immediately turn your wrist with so small a motion of the arm, that it can scarcely be perceived, to your left-side; and by that means you may put by his sword, with the fort of yours upon the left-side, keeping the point of your sword after the parade towards his right-shoulder; you may in putting by your adversaries sword use a little beat or spring towards the ground, by which you will more certainly disappoint him immediately bringing your sword to its right posture again, and by, this way of parying you may have the luck to spring or beat your adversaries sword out of his hand. the second parade in quart is with the point sloping towards your adversaries right-thigh, and as tho' without it, in this manner; when you perceive your adversary is thrusting with your sword, turn the nails of your sword-hand in quart, with a full stretched arm, and your hand as high as your face, and when you do this, slope your point to the lowness of your adversaries thigh; and by that means, with the fort of your sword, on the feeble of his, put by his thrust, always observing to parie with the fort of your sword, and not the feeble, lest your adversary having the stronger arm, force upon you the thrust in spite of all you can do. the first parade in terce, or without the sword, the point a little higher than the hilt, must be thus managed, _viz._ perceiving your adversary giving in the thrust without your sword; take notice immediately to turn your wrist with some small motion of the arm, as in the first parie in quart, till your nails, be in terce, and so parie his thrust, remembring in this to keep the point of your sword, after you have paried him towards your adversaries left-shoulder, as in the first parade in quart, you are to keep it towards his right. this parade is most effectually done with a spring, to put by the sword or gain an advantage of disarming your adversary. the second parade in terce, is called that within the sword bearing a sloping point towards your adversaries thigh, and as though within it. this observe to do when you perceive your adversary giving in his thrust without, or below your sword, as it were at your arm-pit, immediately letting the point of your sword sink as low as his thigh, turning your nails quite round to your right-side, until they are from you, keeping your hand as high as your head, and so put by the thrust on your right-side; and when you are parading, let your head be close as if it were under your arm; and this preserves your face from your adversaries scattering or counter-temps thrusts. thus having shewn you the defensive part, i shall now proceed to the offensive, or how you may offend your adversary when necessity requires it; but before i directly enter upon it, let me speak some thing of the counter-caveating parade; though some there are who refuse to use it, yet it is the safest of all. _the counter caveating parade_, &c. when you observe your adversaries thrust coming home within your sword, then immediately slope your point, and bring it up again with a quick motion on the other side of your adversaries, and parie his thrust without your sword, that he intended, to give within your sword, holding your nails neither in terce nor in quart, but so hold them as when you presented your sword; and observe further to do this, parade with a spring, and if you perceive he is about to give in his thrust without your sword, instantly slope your point, and bring it up again with a quick motion upon the inside of his sword, and so parie his thrust, that was to be given without your sword, within your sword, and if you do this very quick you will rarely be hit with a home thrust; and in this parade there is great advantage, because by it all feints, which in other parades cannot be so well noted or shunned, are by this baffled and confounded. lessons offensive. 1. _of approaching or advancing._ observe here; (when you are standing to your guard, and your adversary without your measure, so that without approaching you cannot reach him) that you lift your right-foot about a foot forward, and presently let your left-foot follow close by the ground, your left-knee a little bowed, taking notice at the end of every step, that your feet be at the same equal distance as when you first presented your sword, or if in any thing you vary, let it be in bringing them something nearer; and so your elong will come as much nearer to your adversary as you brought your left-foot nearer to your right: always then remember to redouble this step, or any other that is to be used on this occasion till you think your adversary is within your measure. this step must be always made on plain ground, lest you trip and fall, which is very dangerous; but if it be on rugged uneven ground, there is another suitable to it, called the double step, after this manner; in the first place throw your left-foot before your right, (which may be done, by raising your body a little on your right-foot) about a foot, then bring your right-foot forward again, as far before your left, as when you presented your sword; these two motions must be done immediately after the other, or else doing of this step will appear ungraceful; and here you must keep a thin body as possible, because the throwing your left foot before your right, lays your body open, and so redouble this step, as the former, according to the distance you are from your adversary, till you approach within his measure. lesson 2. _of retiring._ this may be done three ways, first with the single step, the same way you approach with it, only whereas in approaching with the single step you lift your right-foot first, here you must lift your left-foot first, and the rest observe, as in the approach with the single step. the second is, that with the double step, and is done the same way as in the advance, only in approaching you throw your left-foot before right, when in retiring you must throw your right-foot backward behind your left; and the rest is done as in advancing with the double step. the third is done by a sudden jump backwards on the strait line, with both your feet in the air at once, but you must lift your right-foot first, and after your jump is done, stand to your guard again, unless you find occasion to redouble your jump to be farther out of reach. lesson 3. _of giving in the thrust._ to thrust or make an elong, observe (when you stand to your guard, and your adversary be within your measure) that your sword be as you please, either within or without your adversaries sword, and suppose within, then stretch out your right-arm, and step forward with your right-foot as far as may be, keeping the point strait forwards, and let the motion of your arm begin a thought before you move your foot, so that the thrust may be given home before your adversary can hear your foot touch the ground; and when you are at your full stretch, keep your left-hand stretched, and ever observe to keep a close left-foot, which must be done by keeping your left-heel and broad side of your foot close to the ground, without any drawing it after you, for keeping a close foot is one of the chiefest things to be observed in this science. when you give in your thrust throw your left-hand behind you, or so place it on your left-side, that your sword and both your arms may make a strait line from your adversary. this must be when you design not to make use of your left-hand for a parade, but if you do, then in the very time of giving in your thrust, throw your left-arm forward as far as you can, without putting the rest of your body into disorder, turning the palm from you, by turning your thumb down, and your little fingers up, and so parie your adversaries thrust, if you find he will thrust, upon the same time you make your thrust, always remembring when you thrust within the sword, to do it with your nails in quart or upwards, and quart well your hand and shoulder; but when a thrust is made without the sword, then give it in with your nails in terce or downwards, and keep your hilt much lower than your point, and your head as clear as may be from you adversaries sword. take notice in all lessons in which you do not first secure or bind your adversaries sword, that you are to thrust close by the feeble of his sword, with the fort of yours. but there is a difference when you first secure your adversaries sword, for after your securing or binding, you quit his sword, and give a strait home thrust, without touching it, after it is bound. in these rules there is great advantage, as in the quarting of your hand, when you thrust within, the sword, preserves them from your adversaries counter-temps thrusts in the face; so likewise does your thrusting close by the feeble of the sword, and keeping your hilt lower than the point, when you thrust without the sword, as also the holding of your head to the contrary side your adversaries sword is on, preserve you from counter-temps, ever observing as a general rule; to keep your head on the contrary side of your adversaries sword, on what side soever you thrust, for this will frequently preserve your face from being hit. lesson 4. _of caveating or disengaging._ in this case, when your sword is presented within your adversaries sword, and you would have it without (keeping your nails in quart) slope your point so low that you may bring it up under the out-side of his. this must be done with the wrist, and not any motion of the arm, because when you disengage, if the arm move, your body would be too much discovered; so that your adversary would have an advantage to give in his thrust, which he could not do if only your wrist moved, and this must be done with a sudden motion; and by this you may learn to slip your adversaries sword at pleasure. lesson 5. _feinting or falsifying_ of these, there are several kinds, and the first retreat on is _the ordinary single feint_; when you are on your guard, and within your adversaries sword, disengage and make your feint without, which you must do with a beat of your right-foot against the ground, just as you disengage, and your sword on the out-side of your adversaries, and immediately after, if you perceive him answer your feint, and offer to parie, disengage again, and give him the thrust within the sword. lesson 6. _the double feint._ there is a difference between this and the single feint; for in the single one you must make two motions, _viz._ with the first you make your feint, and with the next you give in your thrust, unless you make your feint on that side your sword lyeth, which may be done without disengaging, and is the simplest of all others in all single feints, it must be given in upon the side your sword was before you made your feint; but in the double feint you are to make three motions, and the thrust (unless when you make your first motion on that side your sword was presented) is given in on the other side, and not on the side the sword was just before you began to make your feint; and to play this, there are two ways, _viz._ when you are within measure, you must play it one way, and without measure another way. as to the first, your sword being presented within your adversaries sword, then disengage and make your first motion without his sword, to stand a thought on it to try whether he will answer you, by offering to proceed to the parade; if he do not answer, it is useless, but if he do, then presently make your second motion within his sword, and your third motion without it, by giving the thrust; both these motions must be done with admirable quickness; at every motion give a beat with your foot, and disengage; turning your nails in quart. if you are without distance, make a motion to see if he will answer your feint, and if he do begin again, make your first motion, as within distance, approaching at the same time, and so your second and third. there is a contrary to these, that is to be observed when your adversary makes use of them against you, then you must make use either of the counter-caveating parade, or keep your sword point immoveable towards his face that opposes you, your arm as much stretched out as possible; and when you do so you must recover your body, by drawing your right foot close to your left, stand as it were on tip-toe, and if for all this your adversary give a home thrust, then you must counter-temps him in the face, and parie his thrust with your left-hand; or if you perceive him make variety of feints, then upon every one of them make a half thrust, which will oblige him to betake himself to the parade, and so when you please you may take the pursuit, or when he makes variety of feints, give a plain home thrust, as smart as may be, and endeavour to defend your self from counter-temps with your left-hand, and to prevent them, it is always in this case best when you give a thrust, to use your left-hand. lesson 7. _the single feint at the head._ being within distance you may present your sword within or without your opponents sword, making a feint or motion at his face, if your sword be presented without, by a little stretching out your right-arm, your nails in quart, and when you make the motion, give a little beat with your right-foot, and if the feint be answered, then immediately give in your thrust at his arm-pit your head under your sword-arm, your left-hand held before you, with the palm of it looking towards your right-side, and that part of your arm, from the points of your fingers to your elbow, must stand in a manner strait upwards, which posture you must ever observe when you give in this thrust, because in doing it, it defends you from the thrust of your adversary, if it be above, and without your sword; and you may at the same time make a motion at his face. lesson 8. _of the double feint at the head._ being within distance, make your first motion or feint, as before, at the face, your second motion low without your adversaries sword, towards his belly; and with the third, give a thrust without, and above his sword, your nails in quart, marking every motion with your head, hands and feet; and when you make your second motion, hold your hand as in the single feint, and when you give in your thrust above sword, you must quart your head well, because you must give it in with your nails in quart; and by this means your body will be kept secure within your sword, when in terce it would ly open, especially to counter-temps. there is a parying the contrary, either with the counter-caveating parade, or by answering every motion, by what means you will fall to parie your adversaries with the first parade in terce. lesson 9. _containing the manner of the feint at the head on the true parade._ the contrary to the second parade is this, and to do it you must make your motion at your adversaries face, and if you imagine he intends to parie you with the second counter-caveating parade, make round his sword, as it were going a circle about it, and so give a thrust at his arm-pit, and with your left-hand avoid counter-temps, and being within distance, approach with your first motion, and in so doing you caveat his sword and shun his parade, or if your adversary follows your sword, you may make two or three circles till you find a fit time to let in your thrust. lesson 10. _of the low feint._ when you intend to proceed in this, you must have your sword without your adversaries and when it is so, make directly the second motion of the double feint at the head, and give in the thrust above, and when you are without distance, make your approach with the feint, or first motion; and make in your thrust with the second. and this may be paryed, by answering every motion, or using the counter-caveating parade. the contrary to it, is, when your adversary is making his low feint, to take time, and give in the thrust above his sword, your nails in quart. lesson 11. _of battery._ this is a kind of a beat from whence it derives its name, and therefore when you play it you must present your sword either without or within your adversaries, if within, and he within your measure, then keep your sword half a foot from his, and when you intend to play, strike a small stroak on the edg, and feeble of your sword on the edg, and feeble of his, and at the same moment give a beat with your foot, which will surprize your adversary, if not well skilled; if it does not, nor that he answers you by offering to parie, give a strait home thrust at his right-pap, as you give in a plain thrust within the sword, moving the sword only with your wrist, and thereby keeping your body close. if your adversary offers to answer your stroak, and go to the parade, then your best way is to slip him, and give in a thrust without, and above the sword, or when you perceive him going to parade, then suddenly slip and make a double feint on the other side, and thrust on that side you gave the beat. in the contrary of this parie, with the counter-caveating parade, or meet his stroak, and make a half thrust, which will force him to the parade; and so you may pursue. lesson 12. _of volt coupe._ in this observe to present your sword within your adversaries, he being within your measure; then make a feint at the face your nails in quart, and upon this give a beat with your foot, and carry your hand well quarted, and if by offering to parie, he answers this, and that high, then thrust at the belly, your nails in terce, and keep your left-hand as a guard from counter-temps; if by parying low, you are disappointed of this advantage, then after you have made your feint, instead of a thrust in the belly, slip his parade, and give the thrust without, and above the sword; and when you are within distance approach with the first motion: if your sword be presented without your adversaries, you must first then disengage. the contrary to this is either to parie his sword with the second parade in quart, or to take time and give your thrust the way he was to give it in upon you, at the instant he makes his motion at your face, or you may pass without his thrust. lesson 13. _of binding your adversaries sword._ this is the securest play, and chiefest mistery in the art of fencing, wherefore to do it after you have presented your sword, either within or without your adversaries, on a sudden over-lap six or seven inches of his with eight or ten of yours; and this is sufficient to secure it; but this must be always done with the edg of the sword, whether you present it within or without, and immediately after you have bound it, give a thrust strait home. in this case, always observing to keep a close left-foot, also to give a beat with your foot, and to bind with a spring, _viz._ press your sword almost to the ground, but stay not with it, but immediately bring it up again and then give the thrust; and this prevents counter-temps, and the best parade against it is, the counter caveating parade, and if your adversary flips your sword, you must endeavour to bind him within or without the sword again. you may also put upon him the double or single feint, or having bound your sword without, you may give in your thrust, as in playing the single feint at the head. lesson 14. _of the flancanade._ to do this, when you have presented within your adversaries sword, over-lap it with 12 inches of yours, within eight of his, and give in the thrust on his right-flank, on the other side of the sword, and beneath it your nails side-ways, throwing forward your left-hand and turning the palm from you to keep off counter-temps in the belly, and in thrusting let your hilt be lower than the point, which secures his sword; and note when you lap over to do it with the flat, and not with the edg as when you bind. and thus much may serve for an introduction to the learner in the science of defence, and therefore for other lessons, not here set down, i refer him to a master. _of hawking._ _of hawks there are two sorts._ the long-winged hawks. _faulcon_ and _tiercle-gentle_, _gerfaulcon_ and _jerkin_. _saker_ and _sakaret_. _lanner_ and _lanneret_. _barbary falcon._ _merlin_ and _jack_. _hobby_ and _jack_. the short winged hawks. _eagle_ and _iron_. _goshawk_ and _tiercle_. _sparrow-hawk_ and _musket_. there are others too of inferiour sort, as, _ring-tail._ _raven_ and _buzzard_. _forked kite._ _hen-driver_, &c. and as the age of these _hawks_ is, so we name them, as the first year a _soarage_. the second year an _intermewer_. the third year a _white hawk_. the fourth year a _hawk of the first coat_. thus much for their names, now we come to speak of the flights of these _hawks_; which are these, the _faulcon-gentle_, for _partridge_ or _mallard_. _gerfaulcon_, will fly at the _herne_. _saker_, at the _crane_ or _bittern_. _lanner_, at the _partridge_, _pheasant_ or _choofe_ _barbary faulcon_, at the _partridge_ only. _merlin_ and _hobby_, at the _lark_, or any small bird. _goshawk_ and _tiercle_, at the _partridge_, or _hare_. _sparrow-hawk_, at the _partridge_ or _black-bird_. and the _musket_, at the _bush_. your _hawk_ watch, and keep from sleep, continually carrying him upon your fist, familiarly stroak him with a wing of some dead fowl, or the like, and play with him; accustom to gaze, and look in his face with a loving, smiling, gentle countenance; and that will make him acquainted, and familiar with men. having made him familiar, the next thing is to _bring him to the lure_, (which the _faulconer_ makes of feathers and leather, much like a fowl, which he casts into the air, and calls the _hawk_ to) which is after this manner. set your _hawk_ on the perch, unhood him and shew him some meat within your fist, call him by _chirping_, _whistling_, or the like, till he comes, then feed him with it; if he comes not, let him fast, and be sharp set: short-winged _hawks_ are properly said to be called, not _lured_. make him bold, and acquainted with men, dogs, and horses, and let him be eager and sharp-set, before you shew him the _lure_, knowing his _luring_ hours; and let both sides of the _lure_, be garnished with warm and bloody meat; let him likewise know your voice well; so that being well acquainted with voice, and _lure_, the hearing of the one, or sight of the other, makes him obedient; which you must reward by feeding, or punish by fasting. but before _luring_ (or any flight) it is requisite to bathe your _hawk_ in some quiet and still shallow brook, or for want of that in a large bason, shallow tub, or the like, lest being at liberty, you lose your _hawk_, (whose nature requires such bathing) and make him range. now to make him know his _lure_, is thus: give your _hawk_ to another, and having loosned in readiness his hood-strings, and fastened a _pullet_ to the _lure_, go a little distance, cast it half the length of the string about your head, still _luring_ with your voice, unhood your _hawk_, and throw it a little way from him; if he stoop and seize, let his plum the _pullet_, and feed on it upon the _lure_: then take him and meat on your fist, hood him and give him the tiring of the wing, or foot of the said _pullet_. having manned and _lured_ your _hawk_ before you bring him to his flight, one thing is to be observed and done, called in the _faulconers dialect_, _enseaming_, which is to cleanse him from fat, grease, and glut, know by his round thighs, and full meutings; and thus you may do it: in the morning when you feed him, give him a bit or two of hot-meat, and at night very little or nothing. then feed him morning and evening with a _rook_, wash't twice till the pinions be tender; then give a casting of feathers as his nature will bear; and once in two or three dayes give him a hens-neck well joynted and washt: then a quick train _pigeon_ every morning; and after by these and his own exercise, he has broken and dissolved the grease, give him three or four _pellets_ of the root of _sallandine_, as big as a garden pease, steept in the sirup of _roses_; and you have done this part of your duty. to enter your _hawks_, for _partridge_ or fowl, lay an old field _partridge_ in a hole, covered with something, and fasten to it a small _creance_ (_i.e._ a fine small long line of strong and even-wound packthread fastned to the _hawks_ leash when first lured,) and uncoupling your ranging spaniels, pluck off the covering of the train _partridge_ and let it go, and the _hawk_ after it; and as soon as he has slain it, reward him well with it. and thus to make him fly at fowl, feed him well with the train of the fowl you would have; doing afterwards as above. the fault of _hawks_ differ according to their nature and make. long-winged _hawks_ faults are thus helped. if he used to take stand, flying at the river, or in champaign fields, shun flying near trees or covert, or otherwise, let several persons have trains, and as he offers to stand, let him that's next cast out his train, and he killing it reward him. and indeed you ought never to be without some live bird or fowl in your bag, as _pigeon_, _duck_, _mallard_, &c. if he be froward and coy; when he kills, reward him not as usually, but slide some other meat under him and let him take his pleasure on it; giving him some feathers to make him scour and cast. if he be _wild_, _look not inward_; but mind check, (_i.e._ other game, as crows, &c. that fly cross him) then lure him back, and stooping to it, reward him presently. the faults of short-winged _hawks_ thus are helped. sometimes the _goshawk_ and _sparrow-hawks_, will neither kill, nor fly the game to mark, but will turn tail to it: then encourage your dogs to hunt, cast a train _partridge_ before your _hawk_, make him seize it, and feed well upon it. if a hawk take a tree, and will not fly at all, feed him then upon quick birds, and make him foot them, and in the plain champaign fields unhood him, and rising up and down awhile let one cast out a field _partridge_ before him, let him fly at it, and footing it, feed on it. if they be too fond of a man, that after a stroke or two will not fly, be seldom familiar with him, and reward him not as he comes so improperly: otherwise reward him well. as for _mewing_ of _hawks_, the best time for long-winged _hawks_ is about the middle of _april_, and _march_ for the short-winged _hawks_. there are two kinds of _mewings_. 1. _at the stock or stone_; so called from its being low upon the ground, free from noise, vermin or ill air. 2. _at large_; so called from being in a high room, with open windows towards the _north_ or _north-east_. the former is accounted the best _mewing_. the faulconer, before he _mews_ his _hawks_, see if they have _lice_, to pepper and scower them too. the best time to draw the field _hawk_ from the _mew_, is in _june_, and he will be ready to fly in _august_; the _hawks_ for the river in _august_, will be ready in _september_. _cures for hawks diseases._ the faulconer ought diligently to observe the complexions of his _hawks castings_ and _mewtings_, to judge of their maladies, an assured sign of knowing whether they are sick or distempered in this. take your _hawk_, turning up her train, if you see her tuel or fundament swelleth, or looketh red; or, if her eyes or ears be of a fiery complexion, it is an infallible sign of her being not well and in good health; and then scouring is necessary first; which is done by _aloes cicatrine_, about the quantity of a pea wrapt up in her meat; and this avoids grease, and kills worms too. _for the cataract_: take one scruple of washt _aloes_ finely beaten, and two scruples of _sugar-candy_, mix these together, and with a quill blow it three or four times a day into your _hawks_ eye. _pantus_ or _asthma_: pour the oyl of sweet _almonds_ into a chickens gut, well washt, and give it the _hawk_: or, scower him with _sallandine_-pellets, and oyl of _roses_, and then wash his meat in the decoction of _coltsfoot_. _filanders_ or _worms_: to prevent them, seeing your _hawk_ low and poor, give her once a month a clove of _garlick_. to cure or kill them; take half a dozen cloves of _garlick_, boil them very tender in milk, dry the milk out of them; put them into a spoonful of the best oyl of _olives_, and having steept them all night, give them both to your _hawk_, when she has cast, in the morning: feed him not till two hours after, and then with warm meat, and keep him warm all that day. _lice_: mail your _hawk_ in some woollen cloth, put between his head and hood a little wool, and take a pipe of tobacco, put the little end in at the tream, blow the smoak, and the _lice_ that escape killing, will creep into the cloth: _probatum_. _formica_: take a little of the gall of a bull, and beating it with _aloes_, anoint the beak of the _hawk_, morning and evening, _frounce_: take the powder of _allume_, reduced to a salve with strong wine vinegar, and wash her mouth with it; then take juice of _lolium_ and _raddish_, mixt with salt, and anoint the sore. _apoplex_: gather the herb _asterion_, wash your hawks meat with the juice thereof when you feed him. _wounds_: take the juice of _english tobacco_, or _mouse-ears_, after you have sticht it up with a little lint, bathe the place. _of bowling._ the first and greatest cunning to be observed in _bowling_, is the right chusing your bowl, which must be suitable to the grounds you design to run on, thus: for _close alleys_, your best choice is the _flat bowl_: 2. for _open grounds_ of advantage, the round-byassed-bowl. 3. for _green swarths_, that are plain and level, the bowl that is _round as a ball_. the next thing requires your care is, the chusing out your ground, and preventing the windings, hangings, and many turning advantages of the same, whether it be in open wide places, as bares & bowling-greens, or in close bowling-alleys. lastly, have your judgment about you to observe and distinguish the risings, fallings and advantages of the places where you bowl: have your wits about you to avoid being rookt of your money: and have your understanding about you, to know your best time and opportunity for this recreation; and finally a studious care of your words and passions, and then bowl away, and you may deserve, _well have you bowled indeed_. but methinks i cannot conclude here, without admiring how aptly a bowling-green is by the divine _quarles_ characterized, in the following verses, thus, _brave pastime,_ readers, _to consume that day, which without pastime flies too swift away! see how they labour, as if day and night were both too short to serve their loose delight? see how their curved bodies wreath, and skrue such antick shapes as_ proteus _never knew: one rapps an oath, another deals a curse, he never better bowl'd, this never worse; one rubs his itchless elbow, shrugs and laughs, the t'other bends his beetle-brows, and chafes; sometimes they whoop, sometimes the_ stygian _cryes, send their black_ santo's _to the blushing skies: thus mingling humours in a mad confusion they make bad premisses and worse conclusion._ thus much for bowling. _of tennis._ this recreation is of the same date for its antiquity of invention with bowling, and for the violence of its exercise to be preferred before it. this sport indeed is of so universal an acceptance, that majesty it self is pleased to design it its recommendation, by tracking its laborious steps; and princes and lords admire it too for the most proper recreation, to suit with innocence, and true nobility. here the body is briskly exercised more than ordinary, and inured in agility and nimbleness; this renders the limbs flexible and mettlesom, and adapts them for the most vigorous enterprize. _tennis_ and _baloon_ are sports which are play'd almost with the same instruments; and therefore may be under one and the same head: the first is a pastime, used in close or open courts, by striking a little round ball to and fro, either with the palms of the hands (and then is called _pila palmaria_ in latin) or else a _racket_, made for the purpose, round with net or cat-gut, with a handle: the other a strong and moving sport in the open fields with a great ball of a double leather filled with wind, and so driven to and fro with the strength of a mans arm, armed in a brace of wood. and thus much shall suffice to speak of the _baloon_ and _tennis_; only let me desire you, let not this or any other pastime disturb your minds; divert you from the diligent and careful prosecution of your lawful business; or invite you to throw away your time and money too lavishly and idley; nor engage you in any passion; that so you may not offend god, dislike your neighbour, nor incomode your self and family in your well-being and felicity; and then you may recreate your self without fear: and in this recreation observe the ensuing morality of the =tennis-court=. _when as the hand at_ tennis _plays, and men to gaming fall_, love _is the_ court, hope _is the_ house, _and_ favour _serves the_ ball, _this_ ball _it self is due desert, the line that measure shows is_ reason _whereon_ judgment _looks where players win and lose._ _the_ tutties _are deceitful shifts, the_ stoppers, jealousy, _which hath sir_ argus _hundred eyes, wherewith to watch and pry._ _the fault whereon_ fifteen is lost, _is want of_ wit _and_ sense, _and he that brings the_ racket _in is_ double diligence. _but now the_ racket _is_ free-will, _which makes the_ ball _rebound, and noble_ beauty _is the_ choice, _and of each game the ground._ _then_ racket _strikes the_ ball _away, and there is_ over-sight, _a_ bandy _ho! the people cry, and so the_ ball _takes flight._ _now at the length_ good-liking _proves content to be their gain: thus in the tennis-court,_ love is a pleasure mixt with pain. _of ringing._ whosoever would become an accurate master of this excellent art and pleasure, and is very desirous to be esteemed an elaborate and ingenious ringer, and be enrolled amongst that honoured society of =college youths=; i must beg leave to instruct him before he enters the bell-free, in these ensuing short rules; which he must strictly observe, _viz._ 1. that as all _musick_ consists in these six plain _notes_, _la sol fa mi re ut_; so in _ringing_, a peal of bells is tuned according to these principles of musick: for as each _bell takes its denomination from the note it sounds_, by its being flatter or deeper, as, _first_, or treble, _second_, _third_, _fourth_, &c. as they are in number to _ten_ or _twelve_ bells, the last being called the _tenor_; so must they successively strike one after another both _fore-stroke_ and _back-stroke_, in a due musical time or equi-distance, to render their harmony the more pleasant, and to make the young practitioner the better informed to observe the _life of musick_, and indeed of true ringing, _time_; and therefore is called, _round-ringing_. 2. as in musick, so in ringing there are three _concords_, so called from their melodious harmony and agreement, which principally are these; _thirds_, _viz._ 1 3, 2 4, _&c._ _fifths_ 1 5, 2 6, _&c._ _eights_ 1 8, 2 9, 3 10, _&c._ and these are the more pleasant according to the number of bells they are struck on, and as they are struck, whether separately or mutually. from hence _changes_ are made, which is only a changing place of one _note_ with another, so variously, as musick may be heard a thousand ways of harmony; which being so obvious to common observation, i shall not go about to demonstrate; for that if two may be varied two ways, surely by the rule of _multiplication_, a man may easily learn how many times 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, or 12 bells notes may be varied; which will run almost _ad infinitum_. 3. for the better observing the ringing of _changes_ or _rounds_, these three things are to be noted. 1. _the raising true in peal._ 2. _ringing at a low compass_; and 3. _ceasing in true peal_; all which three are the most essential parts to render a practitioner _excellent_. 1. for _raising a peal of bells true_, the modern and best practice recommends the _swiftest and quickest possible_, every one taking assistance to raise his bell, as its going requires: the _lesser_ bells as _treble_, _&c._ being by main strength _held down_ in their first sway (or pull) to get time for the striking of the rest of larger compass; and so continued to be strong pulled till frame-high, and then may be slackned: the bigger, as _tenor_, &c. must be pincht or checkt overhead, that the notes may be hard to strike roundly and hansomely. observe that all the notes strike round at one pull: i do not mean the first; but 'tis according to the bigness and weightiness of your bells: however in raising a peal, do not let one bell strike before the rest, or miss when the rest do; this is contrary to the strict rules of _true ringing_: and this is called _round-ringing_. now if you design to raise a peal of bells for _changes_, you ought to raise them to a set-pull, as the most proper for commanding the notes, and he who is not well skilled to manage his bell at a set-pull, will be apt to drop or overturn it, be in a wood, and fruitlessly toil and moil himself. therefore in practising the setting of a bell, cast your eye about the other bell-ropes, during your managing your own, that you may accustom your self to manage it according to the _change_. 2. for _ringing at a low compass_, is thus observed: by keeping a due _punctum_ or beat of time, in the successive striking one after another of every bell; the best ringer being set to the _treble_, that may guide and direct the rest of the notes in their due measure. 3. _for ceasing a peal of bells_; let them fall gradually from a set peal, checking them only at sally, till the low compass renders it useless; and when so low, that for want of compass, they can scarce strike at back-stroak; then let the _treble_-ringer stamp, as a signal, to notify, that the next time they come to strike at the fore-stroke, to check them down, to hinder their striking the back-stroke; yet fore-stroke continued, till brought to a neat and graceful chime, which may be the finis to that peal. thus much in short, for _raising_, _round-ringing_, and _ceasing a peal_ of bells; i come next to lead you forth into that spacious field of variety of _changes_, and present you with instructions that may be meerly necessary, for the right understanding the several kinds of them. now in _ringing changes_, two of our best senses, are to be employed, _viz._ the ear, and the eye: the ear, hearing when to make a _change_; and the eye directing the bell in making it: the bells being the object of the former, and the bell-ropes the object of the latter: and to render both the eye and ear useful in ringing _changes_, these five things are throughly to be understood. _first_, endeavour to distinguish the _notes_ of a _peal_ of _bells_, one from another while ringing. _secondly_, learn to apprehend the places of the _notes_. _thirdly_, understand the precedency of _notes_. _fourthly_, how to make a _change_ in _ringing_. _fifthly_, and _lastly_, how to practice the four fore-going notions, in general. 1. _to know the notes of a peal of bells asunder_ (which is easy in _round-ringing_) in _changes_ is thus: get the skill of tuning them with your _voice_, by imitating their notes while _ringing_. or if you are acquainted, either by your self or friend, with some _singing-master_, or one who has skill in _singing_, get him to instruct you in the true pitch of any _note_, and aid your distinguishing them; otherwise you may be puzzled in this, to know which is _treble_, which _second_, &c. as in 532641, _&c._ 2. to know the places of the _notes_, is no way better to be apprehended than thus: the practitioner ought to form an _idea_ in his head of the place of each _note_, whether in a direct _line_, or _obliquely_; and representing them by a _figure_ in his mind, see (as it were) by the eye of the understanding, each stroke of the _bell_, as the _treble_, 1. _second_ 2. _third_ 3. _&c._ so that as the _ear_ is to direct him, when to make the change, so a right apprehension of the _motion_ and _places_ of the _notes_, ought to be a means to guide his ear. 3. the precedency of _notes_, is of a very obvious demonstration; thus: in ringing _changes_ the fore and back-stroke, successively following one another, are properly said to _lye behind_ one another, according to their places of striking. or in short, in 12345, the _note_ that leads either at fore or back-stroke, is said to _lye before_ the rest, and the last to be behind, as the 2 is said to lye behind the 1, so it lyeth before the 3, as the 3 lyeth behind 2, so it lyeth before the 4. and so of as many as are _rung_. 4. the manner of making a _change_, is very common, and needs no particular, but general rule; that it is made by moving one _note_ into anothers place, up and down, as occasion requires; but usually made by two _notes_ standing one next the other, as hereafter may be observed. _lastly_, in your ringing _changes_, these two things (in which consists the practick part of this art) are to be rightly considered, _first_, readily to know which two _bells_ are to make the succeeding _change_. and _secondly_, to consider (if you are concerned in it) what _bell_ you are to follow in making it. to understand which the more perfectly, you must imprint in your memory, the method of the _changes_ prick'd in _figures_, and to be expert likewise in setting them down divers ways, and making any _figure_ a _hunt_ at pleasure; and thus without pausing or hesitating to consider the course, you may throughly understand the methods; the four preceding observations being first perfectly understood. there are two ways of _ringing changes_, viz. by _walking_ them, as the artists stile it; or by _whole pulls_ or _half-pulls_: _walking_ is, when in one _change_ the _bells_ go round, _four_, _six_, or _eight_ times; which is a most incomparable way to improve a young practitioner, by giving him time to consider, which two _bells_ do make the next succeeding _change_, and in making it, what _bell_ each is to follow; so that by this means (by his industry) he may be capable of ringing at _whole pulls_; which is, when the _bells_ go round in a _change_ at fore and back-stroke; and a new _change_ is made every time they are pulled down at sally: this was an ancient practice, but is now laid aside, since we have learnt a more advantageous way of hanging our _bells_, that we can manage a _bell_ with more ease at a _set-pull_ than formerly: so that ringing at _half-pulls_ is now the modern general practice; that is, when one _change_ is made at fore-stroke, another at back-stroke, _&c._ he that rings the slowest _hunt_, ought to notify the _extream changes_; which is, when the leading _bell_ is pulling down, that he might make the _change_ next before the extreme, he ought to say, _extreme_. by this means, betwixt the warning and the extreme there will be one compleat _change_. _of changes_, &c. there are _two kinds of changes_, viz. _plain changes_, and _cross-peals_; which terms do denote the _nature_ of them; for as the first is stiled _plain_, so are its methods easy; and as the second is called _cross_, so are its methods cross and intricate: the first have a general method, in which all the notes (except three) have a direct _hunting-course_, moving gradually under each other, plainly and uniformly: _plain_ are likewise termed _single changes_, because there is but one single change made in the striking all the notes round, either at fore or back-stroke. but the second is _various_, each _peal_ differing in its course from all others; and in _cross-peals as many changes may be made as the notes will permit_. in short, as to _plain-changes_, i shall not dilate on them here, it being so _plainly_ understood by every one that lately have rung a _bell_ in peal; all therefore i shall add is this, that any two notes that strike next together may make a change, which may be done either _single or double_, as you list. the _single_, by changing two notes; and the _double_, by changing four, _i.e._ two to make one change and two another; which is however called _one double change_, and not two changes; because tis made in striking the notes of the _bells_ once round. _of cross-peals._ or in these _cross-peals_ we must observe the _prime movement_, which sets the whole frame a going, and that is called the _hunt_, which hath _one constant uniform motion throughout the peal_, and different from that of the other notes; and indeed by this the whole course of the peal is steered. this keeps a continual motion through the other notes, _i.e._ from leading, to strike behind, and from thence again to lead; which is called one _compleat course_. some peals upon _five bells_ consist of single courses, wherein are ten changes, and twelve courses make the peal. others upon five consist of double courses, wherein are twenty changes to every course, and six courses in the peal. upon _six bells_ there are likewise _single_ and _double_ courses, _viz._ twelve changes in every single course, as in _grandsire-bob_, _&c._ and twenty-four changes in every double course, as in _college bobs_, that being the first change of every course, wherein the _hunt_ leaves leading: in short, judiciously observe the first course of any _cross-peal_, and you will soon see the general method of the whole peal: all courses in cross-peals agreeing in these following three respects. first, _in the motion of the hunt_. secondly _in the motion of the rest of the notes_: and thirdly, _in making the changes_. which three things being well (to omit instance of demonstration) and narrowly observed, will be very helpful both in pricking and ringing courses; the first and third for directing you in pricking them, and the first and second in ringing them. there is one difficulty to be removed e're i can come to prick down those peals i design to be the subject of the discourse of this _epitome_, and that is, _how to make the first changes at the beginning of each peal_; i mean to make the _second_, _third_, _fourth_, &c. _whole hunts_; and this in short is thus directed: in any _cross-peal_ the _whole hunt_ may move either up or down at the beginning; and the motion of the _whole hunt_, in the first course of each of the following peals will direct the first motion of any _cross-hunt_, and by consequence of making the first changes in that peal. taking along with you this observation. that whensoever the first change of any peal happens to be _single_, it must be made at the back-stroke, to prevent _cutting compass_, and the like when a double change happens first in a peal of _triples and doubles_: but when it happens, that the first change is made at the back-stroke, then consequently the bells at the end of the peal will come round at a fore-stroke change. i shall omit speaking to any of the several peals on _four or five bells_; for that in my opinion little _musick_ is heard, though much _practical observation_ is made, from them; and therefore shall begin with _grandsire-bob_, as having mentioned it but just before in my general view i made of _cross-peals_. _grandsire bob._ _bob_ changes take their name from this; _viz._ when the _treble_ leads in the _second_ and _third_, and the _fifth_ and _sixth's_ places, then they are called _bob-changes_. in ringing which you are to observe these rules, _viz._ whatsoever bells you follow when you _hunt up_, the same bells in the same order you must follow in _hunting down_; as in the changes here prickt, where the _treble_ hunting up _first_ follows _second_, then _fourth_, and then _sixth_; when it comes behind, _first_ follows _second_, in hunting down _fourth_; and when hunting up follows _sixth_ in the same order: the like may be observed in ringing any other bell, with this difference betwixt the whole hunt and the rest, _viz._ every time the whole hunt leaves the _treble's_ place, and hunts up, it followeth different bells, from what it did at its first hunting up. in the ensuing peal here prickt are _eighteen-score_ changes, wanting one. it may be rung with any _hunts_, and begin the changes _triple_ and _double_: you may make your extream at the first, second, or third _single bob_; or the first, second, or third time, that the half and _quarter-hunts_ dodge behind; the _single_ must be made behind in either of these. 123456 | _bob._ | 134256 | 143265 | 126435 -----| 156423 | 312465 | 142356 | -----214365 | 514632 | 321645 | -----| 162345 241635 | 541362 | 236154 | 124536 | 163254 426153 | 453126 | 263514 | 125463 | -----462513 | 435216 | 625341 | -----| 136524 645231 | 342561 | 652431 | 152643 | 135642 654321 | 324651 | 564213 | 156234 | -----563412 | 236415 | 546123 | -----| 153462 536142 | 263145 | 451632 | 165324 | _bob._ 351624 | 621354 | 415362 | 163542 | 135426 315264 | 612345 | 143526 | -----| -----132546 | 165243 | _bob._ | 136452 | 153246 135264 | 162534 | 134562 | _bob._ | 152364 312546 | 615243 | 315426 | 163425 | -----321456 | 651423 | 351246 | -----| 125634 234165 | 564132 | 532164 | 136245 | 126543 243615 | 546312 | 523614 | 132654 | -----426351 | 453621 | 256341 | -----| 162453 462531 | 435261 | 265431 | 123564 | 164235 645213 | 342516 | 624513 | 125346 | -----654123 | 324156 | 642153 | -----| 146325 561432 | 231465 | 461235 | 152436 | _bob._ 516342 | 213645 | 416325 | 154263 | 164352 153624 | 126354 | 143652 | -----| -----156342 | 123645 | _bob._ | 145623 | 146532 513624 | 216354 | 134625 | _bob._ | _bob._ 531264 | 261534 | 316452 | 154632 | 164523 352145 | 625143 | 361542 | -----| -----325416 | 652413 | 635124 | 145362 | 146253 234561 | 564231 | 653214 | _bob._ | 142635 243651 | 546321 | 562341 | 154326 | -----426315 | 453612 | 526431 | -----| 124365 462135 | 435162 | 254613 | 145236 | -----641253 | 341526 | 245163 | 142563 | 123456 614523 | 314256 | 421536 | -----| ====== 165432 | 132465 | 412356 | 124653 | thus much for the _grandsire-bob_; i shall next collect what _london peals_ i think most harmonious, and agreeable, without troubling my self to go to _oxford_, or _nottingham_, or _redding_, to enquire after their different methods of peals, as indeed needless; and my reason is this: because i think the same rules for _peals_ that are suitable to our _london genius_, may challenge likewise an acceptance amongst other _cities_; provided their _steeples_ are furnished with as many, and as good _bells_, and their _belfree's_ with as ingenious and elaborate _ringers_ as here in _london_. i shall begin then with _peals upon six bells,_ and herein in order, measure out the delights on _peals_ from _six_ to _eight bells_, and setting out early, present you with _the morning exercise._ _doubles_ and _singles_. the whole _hunt_ is the _treble_, which hunteth up into the _second_, _third_, and _fourth_ places, lying twice in each; and then lyeth still in the _sixth_ place, having dodged behind, and makes another, and then _hunts_ down as it _hunted_ up, and then leads four times. observing the manner of its pricking, and its practice, may excuse any further defining it. 123456 | -----| 265143 | 163425 | 125643 | 143256 213465 | 265134 | -----| 125634 | 134265 213456 | 265143 | 165243 | -----| 134256 231465 | 261534 | 165234 | 124365 | -----231456 | 216543 | 156243 | 124356 | 136524 234165 | 216534 | 156234 | 142365 | 136542 234156 | 126543 | -----| 142356 | _bob._ 243516 | 126534 | 154326 | -----| 135624 243561 | 162543 | 154362 | 146532 | 135642 245316 | 162534 | _bob._ | 146523 | -----245361 | -----| 153426 | _bob._ | 132465 254631 | 164352 | 153462 | 145632 | 132456 254613 | 164325 | -----| 145623 | 123465 256431 | _bob._ | 152643 | -----| 123456 256413 | 163452 | 152634 | 143265 | -----this will go a 120 _changes_, and by making _bobs_, 240, 360, 270. _a cure for_ melancholy. _doubles_ and _singles_. i should think it needless to explain the method of prick'd _peals_, and give a large definition of them, when their plain demonstration might be sufficient; however, as the old _phrase_ is, _because 'tis usual_, something shall be said of this too. the _treble_ is the whole _hunt_, as in the former, and leads four times, and lyeth behind as many, and twice in every other place; the two _bells_ in the 3d. and 4th. places continue dodging, when the _treble_ moves out of the 4th. place, until it comes down there again, and then the two hindmost dodge, till the _treble_ displaceth them; who maketh every double _change_, except when it lieth behind, and then the double is on the four first, and on the four last when it leads. every single (except when the _treble_ lies there) is in the 5th. and 6th. places; or if possessed by the _treble_, then in the 3d. and 4th. places: every _bell_ (except the _treble_) lies four times in the second place: but enough; a word is enough to the wise. see it here deciphered. 123456 | -----| 452136 | 165432 | 126534 | 156432 213465 | 452163 | -----| 126543 | _bob._ 213456 | 451236 | 143652 | -----| 165423 231465 | 451263 | 143625 | 154263 | 165432 231456 | 415236 | _bob._ | 154236 | -----234165 | 415263 | 134652 | 152463 | 132654 234156 | 145236 | 134625 | 152436 | 132645 243516 | 145263 | -----| -----| 136254 245316 | 142536 | 162345 | 143526 | 136245 243561 | 142563 | 162354 | 143562 | -----245361 | -----| 163245 | _bob._ | 124365 423561 | 156423 | 163254 | 134526 | 124356 425361 | 156432 | -----| 134562 | 123465 423516 | _bob._ | 125634 | -----| 123456 425316 | 165423 | 125643 | 156423 | -----this will go _six-score changes_, but by making _bobs_, it will go 240, 360, or 720. the _bob_ is a double _change_ at the leading of the _treble_, in which the _bell_ in the 4th. place lyeth still. london nightingale. _doubles_ and _singles_. the whole-hunt is the _treble_, who lyeth four times before, and as many behind, and twice in every other place: the two hind _bells_ continue dodging, when the _treble_ moves down out of the _fifth_ place, till he comes there again, the _bell_ in the _fourth_ place lying still all the while: when the two hind _bells_ aforesaid leave dodging, then the two _first bells_ take their dodging places, till dispossessed again, by the return of the said hind _bells_ to their dodging; and then they cease. 123456 | -----| 425316 | 162534 | 142365 | 164532 213465 | 452136 | -----| 124356 | _bob._ 213456 | 452163 | 153624 | 124365 | 165423 231465 | 451236 | 153642 | -----| 165432 231456 | 451263 | _bob._ | 136245 | -----234165 | 415236 | 156324 | 136254 | 143652 234156 | 415263 | 156342 | 163245 | 143625 243516 | 145236 | -----| 163254 | _bob._ 423516 | 145263 | 134562 | -----| 146352 243561 | 154236 | 134526 | 125634 | 146325 243561 | 154263 | _bob._ | 125643 | -----423561 | -----| 135462 | 152634 | 132465 245361 | 126543 | 135426 | 152643 | 132456 425361 | 126534 | -----| -----| 123465 245316 | 162543 | 142356 | 164523 | 123456 this will go 120, and by making _bobs_, 240, 360, or 720. _college bobs._ in this _bob_, when the _treble_ leaves the two hind _bells_, they dodge till it comes there again, and till the _treble_ gives way for the dodging again of the said two hind _bell_, the two _first bells_ dodge, but after cease dodging, when the two hind _bells_ dodge. 123456 | -----| 243651 | 421635 | 152364 | 165324 214365 | 426315 | 246153 | 135246 | _bob._ 124356 | 462135 | 241635 | 153246 | 156342 213465 | 641253 | 426153 | -----| -----231456 | 642135 | 462513 | 126543 | 132546 324165 | 461253 | _&c._ | 125634 | 135264 321456 | 416235 | 165432 | -----| -----234165 | 142653 | _bob._ | 164235 | 124365 243615 | 412635 | 156423 | 162453 | 123456 426351 | 146253 | -----| -----| -----246315 | 142635 | 143526 | 143652 | 423651 | 416253 | _bob._ | _bob._ | 246351 | 146235 | 134562 | 134625 | 423615 | 412653 | -----| -----| _another._ here, every _bell_, when it comes to lead, makes a dodge before, then after one _change_, it lyeth still; after it has made another dodge, it moves up into the 4th. place, where twice it lyeth still; and down again; except the _treble_ happens to dodge with it in the 4th. place, then it hunts up behind. when the _treble_ moves down out of the _3d_. place, the two _bells_ in the _3d._ and _4th._ place continue there, till the _treble_ comes up thither again, the two hind _bells_ dodging in the mean time. 123456 | -----| 265314 | 132564 | 135426 | 164352 214365 | 625341 | 315246 | -----| -----124356 | 263514 | 351426 | 153246 | 146532 213465 | 236154 | 534162 | 152364 | _bob._ 231645 | 321645 | 351462 | -----| 164523 326145 | 236145 | 534126 | 125634 | -----231654 | 321654 | _&c._ | 126543 | 146253 326154 | 312564 | 153624 | -----| 142635 362415 | 135246 | _bob._ | 162453 | -----634251 | 315264 | 135642 | 164235 | 124365 364215 | 132546 | -----| -----| 123456 632451 | 135264 | 153462 | 146325 | -----623541 | 312546 | _bob._ | _bob._ | both these _bobs_ will go _one hundred_ and _twenty changes_, and by making of _bobs_, they will go, 240, 360, or 720. and thus with little variation, there are other _bobs_ may be made after the same manner, and afford as admirable musick, as possibly can be made on _bells_. i shall therefore hasten to finish this days work, only first present you with this one more called, the city delight: _doubles and singles._ the whole _hunt_ is the _treble_, and lieth as before in the _nightingale_: when the _treble_ moves out of the _3d._ place, the _singles_ are made in the _2d._ and _3d._ place, till the _treble_ repossesses his _3d._ place, and then behind, till it moves up again out of the _3d._ place. the two hind _bells_ dodge, when the _treble_ moves out of the _4th._ place, till he returns again; the _bell_ in the _4th._ place lying still all the while. 123456 | 264351 | 154362 | 162534 | 143265 -----| 265413 | _bob._ | 162543 | 143256 213465 | 256413 | 153426 | 126534 | 134265 213456 | 265143 | 153462 | 126543 | 134256 231465 | 256143 | -----| -----| -----231456 | 251634 | 156234 | 124365 | 135642 234165 | 251643 | 156243 | 124356 | 135624 234156 | 215634 | 165234 | 142365 | _bob._ 243156 | 215643 | 165243 | 142356 | 136542 234615 | 125634 | -----| -----| 136524 243615 | 125643 | 164352 | 145623 | -----243615 | 152634 | 164325 | 145632 | 132465 246351 | 152643 | _bob._ | _bob._ | 132456 264351 | -----| 163452 | 146523 | 123465 246531 | 154326 | 163425 | 146532 | 123456 | -----| this will go as many _changes_ as the last mentioned, by making _bobs_. and here i will shut up this days peal upon six _bells_ with the evening delight. _doubles_ and _singles_. the whole _hunt_ is the _treble_, and lyes as before specified, with this exception only: that it dodges in the _2d._ and _3d._ places, every time it _hunts_ up, and down. observe when _treble_ goes to lead, and leaves of leading, the _bells_ in the _3d._ and _4th_ places lye still, _&c._ note the pricking this _peal_. 123456 | -----| 254163 | 164235 | 145326 | 156324 213465 | 245163 | -----| 154326 | _bob._ 231465 | 241536 | 162453 | -----| 165342 213645 | 214536 | 126453 | 153462 | 156342 231645 | 241356 | _bob._ | 135462 | -----236154 | 214356 | 162435 | 153642 | 153624 263154 | 124365 | 126435 | 135642 | 135624 236514 | 142365 | -----| -----| 153264 263514 | 124635 | 124653 | 136524 | 135264 265314 | 142635 | 142653 | 163524 | -----256341 | -----| 124563 | _bob._ | 132546 265431 | 146253 | 142563 | 136542 | 123546 256431 | 164235 | -----| 163542 | 132456 254613 | _bob._ | 145236 | -----| 123456 245163 | 146253 | 154236 | 165324 | -----this peal will go 120 _changes_, and by making _bobs_, as many as above. note that in all the foregoing peals upon _six bells_, the _bobs_ are double _changes_, and made always at the leadings of the _whole-hunt_. he that rings the _half-hunt_, may best call _bob_ in all peals. i come now to the _changes_ upon seven _bells_, which though the seldom practice of them might excuse my omitting them; yet, because i promised to say somewhat of them, i shall be as good as my word, (the character of an honest man) and present you with a couple of examples, and then proceed to _peals_ upon _eight_: but this i must crave leave to premise, that variety of _changes_ may be prick'd upon seven _bells_, as _triples_, and _doubles_, _triples doubles_, and _single doubles_, &c. and the same methods may be prick'd upon _seven_, as may be upon _five_, the true difference of proportion being observed; but to proceed. _dodging triples._ _triples_ and _doubles_, and indeed all _peals_ upon six, may likewise go upon seven _bells_, thus, 1234567 | ------| 2143576 | 4523671 | 3514276 2415367 | 5432761 | 3152467 4251376 | 4523716 | 1325476 4523167 | 5432176 | 1352746 5432617 | 5341267 | plain triples. 1234567 | ------| 2143657 | 6745231 | 3517264 2416375 | 7654321 | 3152746 4261735 | 7563412 | 1325476 4627153 | 5736142 | 6472513 | 5371624 | in this all the bells have a hunting _course_. _college triples_, dodging before, and behind, 1234567 | ------| 2143576 | 2467315 | 4176235 2415367 | 4276135 | 4712653 4251376 | 2471653 | 7421635 2453167 | 4217635 | 4726153 4235617 | 4126753 | 7462513 2436571 | 1462735 | 4765231 4263751 | 1467253 | this peal thus prick't, will go, 84 _changes_, and the _treble_ leading, and the _half hunt_ lying next it, and a parting _change_ (which is a double on the four middlemost of the six hind _bells_) being made, it will go 420, and by making _bobs_ 5040. thus much shall suffice for _peals_ upon seven _bells_, i proceed to _changes_ upon _eight_. _peals of eight bells._ without amusing our selves with what notes are most _musical_, to _lye behind_, we will come to the matter of fact; for those methods of _peals_ that are prick'd on _six_, may be the same upon _eight_, observing only, that _triples_ and _doubles_ upon _six_, must be _quadruples_, and _triples_ upon _eight_. the imperial bob. _quadruples_ and _triples_. the _treble_ hath a dodging _course_, the two first, and two last _bells_ always dodge, till hindered by the _treble_, the two next to these, lying still one _change_, dodge the next, till the _treble_ hinders them too, those in the 5th. and 6th. places dodge (the _treble_ being behind) and those in the 3d. and 4th. places likewise dodge (the _treble_ being before) and so till hindered by the _treble_. 12345678 | -------| 42361875 | 16847253 | 14283675 21436587 | 24368157 | 16482735 | -------12346578 | 42631875 | -------| 18645273 21436587 | 24613857 | 18765432 | 18462537 24136578 | 42168375 | _bob._ | -------42315687 | 24618357 | 17864523 | 16587432 24135678 | 42163857 | -------| _bob._ 42316587 | 41268357 | 16573824 | 15684732 24361578 | 14623875 | _bob._ | -------42635187 | 41263857 | 15678342 | 18753624 24631578 | 14628375 | -------| _bob._ 42365187 | 14263857 | 17352648 | 17856342 24635817 | 41628375 | 17536284 | -------42368571 | 14268357 | -------| 15372846 24365817 | 41623875 | 13274586 | 15738264 42638571 | 46128357 | 13725468 | -------24365871 | 64213875 | -------| 13254768 42638517 | 46123857 | 12438765 | 13527486 24635871 | 64218375 | 12347856 | -------42368517 | 46281357 | -------| 12436587 24638157 | _&c._ | 14826357 | 12345678 -------by this method the peal will go 224 changes, and by making of _bobs_ it will go 448, 672, 1344. the _bob_ is a _triple_ change at the leading of the _treble_, wherein the bell in the _fourth_ place lies still. the next that comes to our observation, and answers to what we first hinted at in the beginning of this discourse of _peals_ upon _eight_ bells, i mean _precedency in title_, is the bob major. _plain quadruples_ and _triples_. in this all the _bells_ have a direct _hunting course_, until the _treble_ leads, and then the six hindmost _bells_ dodge. 12345678 | -------| 21436587 | 86745231 | 35172846 24163857 | 87654321 | 31527486 42618375 | 78563412 | 13254768 46281735 | 75836142 | 31527486 64827153 | 57381624 | 68472513 | 53718264 | by this method this will go 112. and by making _bobs_, 224, 336, or 672. the _bob_ is a _triple change_, as in the foregoing _imperial_ is specified. by making two _extreams_, it will go 1344, and with four _extreams_, 2688. all peals upon six bells, wherein half the changes are _triples_, will go upon _eight_ according to the method before-going, thus; if it be a peal upon six consisting of 360, or 720 changes, then there must be five _hunts_ in the ringing of it upon _eight_, the _treble_ being the first, 2 the second, _&c._ college bob major. _quadruples_ and _triples_. there is four ways of pricking these. the first hath single dodging behind, and is thus peal'd. the first. 12345678 | -------| 21436587 | 56348271 | 78136524 24163578 | 53684721 | 71863542 42615387 | 35867412 | 17685324 46251378 | 38576142 | 16758342 64523187 | 83751624 | 65432817 | 87315642 | the second. this hath single dodging before and behind, thus prickt. 12345678 | -------| 21436587 | 42358671 | 42173865 24163578 | 24385761 | 41237856 42615387 | 42837516 | 14328765 24651378 | 24873156 | 13482756 42563187 | 42781365 | 24536817 | 24718356 | the third. this hath double dodging behind, thus prickt. 12345678 -------| 21436587 | 63548271 | 78153624 24135678 | 65384721 | 71856342 42316587 | 56837412 | 17583624 43261578 | 58673142 | 15786342 34625187 | 85761324 | 36452817 | 87216342 | the fourth. this hath double dodging before and behind both, thus. 12345678 -------| 21436587 | 42638571 | 42167358 24135678 | 24368751 | 41263785 42316587 | 42637815 | 14627358 24361578 | 24367185 | 16423785 42635187 | 42631758 | 24365817 | 24613785 | these may be prick't several other ways, but that i omit here for brevities sake; the _dodging_ is without intermission, except an hinderence comes by the _treble_; as likewise between two bells, until _treble_ parts the fray. the _bobs_ are _triple changes_, as the _treble_ leads; in the _1st._ _2d._ and _6th._ the bell in the _4th._ place lies still at the _bobs_, and in the _3d._ _4th._ and _5th._ that in the _2d._ place lies still. each of these will go 112 changes, and by making _bobs_ 224, 336, or 672. college triples dodging both before and behind. this peal is the same for _bobs_, as the _bob major_, and will go as many changes by making _bobs_, or otherwise, as any of the foregoing four, and is thus peal'd. 12345678 | -------| 21436587 | 42568371 | 42157836 24153678 | 24586731 | 41275863 42513687 | 42587613 | 14725836 24531678 | 24578163 | 17452863 42536187 | 42571836 | 24563817 | 24517863 | the wild-goose chase _triples._ the explanation shall follow the peal; intending here to put an end to my _epitome_ of the _art of ringing_, and therefore shall first present you with this prick't thus. 12345678 | | -------| | 21536784 | 37625481 | 15327684 25163748 | 73265418 | 13572648 52613784 | 72356148 | 31752684 56231748 | 27531684 | 37125648 65327184 | 25713648 | 73215684 63572814 | 52173684 | 72351648 36758241 | 51237648 | in this change the 4th. bell must first hunt up into the sevenths place, and then the 4 and 8 always dodge behind throughout the peal, unless when obstructed by the _treble_. the bell that moves up into the 6th. place, when the _treble_ moves thence down, lies still there, till displaced by the _treble_; during which time the two hind bells dodge, and the _five first_ go a perfect _hunting-course_: and when likewise the _treble_ moveth out of the 5ths. place the five first bells go a _hunting-course_, till it comes down there again: by this method it will go 80 changes, and by _bobs_ 160, 240, or 480. the _bob_ is made as in the foregoing changes. and here i thought to make an end of the _art of ringing_, but _cynthius aurem vellit_, the young practitioner, whose only information is hereby aimed at, plucks me by the sleeve, and tells me in the ear, that tho' peals upon six, as _triples_ and _doubles_, &c. make excellent musick upon eight _bells_, 4 8, 6 8, 4 1, or 1 8 lying behind: or, _triples_ and _doubles_ upon the six middle bells, the _tenor_ lying behind; yet for him who is not arrived to such a perfection of skill, as to ring these compleat peals, the most proper and easy for him are _set-changes_, which are founded on these _grounds_. first, _placing the bells fifths_; thus the 4 must hunt up behind the 7, the 3 behind the 6, and the 2 behind the 5; or the one may hunt down under the other, as the 5 under the 2, the 6 under 3, and 7 under 4: or if you will, first let a _single_, next a _double_, and then a _triple_ change be made on the middle _bells_, all coming to the same effect; for then the changes will lye _fifths_ thus: 1 5, 2 6, 3 7, 4 8. in the peal four _concords_ are to be regarded, the first 1 5, the second 2 6, the third 3 7, and the fourth 4 8. these four _concords_ may go the methods of any changes upon four _bells_; 1, 5 being taken for the _treble_; 2, 6 for the _second_; 3, 6 for the _third_; and 4, 8 for the _fourth_; and the _concords_ may change places with one another, as you lift. in which this observation is highly necessary, that the two notes of every _concord_ must constantly attend each other in their motion; that is, whenever one of the two notes moves, the other must follow it. or secondly, _place the bells thirds_; thus: the 6 4 and 2 must hunt up, or else the 3 5 7 down; or otherwise on the middlemost _bells_ let a _triple_, _double_ or _single_ change be made, are to one effect; and then the _bells_ will lye _thirds_ thus, 1 3. 5 7. 2 4. 6 8. herein are four _concords observable_; as in the former peal, _viz._ 1 3. 5 7. 2 4. 6 8. these _concords_ may go the methods of any changes upon four _bells_, 1, 3 being taking for the _treble_, 5, 7 for the second; 2, 4 for the third; and 6, 8 for the fourth; moving in the same manner; as before shewed. by these _grounds_ variety of excellent and musical changes are to be rung; _any concord may be made a hunt_, and to move up and down at the beginning. in ringing these _set-changes_, the note will lye sometimes _fifths_, sometimes _thirds_ and both, and then to _clam_ them, is admirable musick: clamming is, when each _concord_ strike together; which being done true the 8 will strike as but four _bells_, and make a melodious harmony. you may _clam_ two or three bouts, and then strike as many times open, alternatively, one _clam_ one pull, and open the next, &c. vocal musick: _or, plain and easy directions to sing by notes, wherein with a little help, any one who is musically given, may be perfected in a short time_. musick, especially vocal, has been of such high esteem in all ages, that it is accounted no less than a divine science producing such concordance, and harmony, that it cheereth and rejoyceth the hearts of men, and is delightful to every creature. it is certainly an addition to the joy in heaven, where the saints and angels sing halleluja's and songs of praises before the throne of god. st. _austin_ tells us, that it is the gift of god to men, as well as to angels, and a representation and admonition of the sweet consent and harmony which his wisdom hath made in the creation and administration of the world. but not to prologue on what everywhere so much commends it self, i shall sum up what in that nature is expedient in a few verses, and so proceed to the subject matter, _viz._ _nature, which is the vast creations soul, that steady curious agent in the whole, the art of heaven, the order of this frame is only musick in an other name: and as some king conquering what was his own hath choice of various titles to his crown, so harmony on this score now, that then, yet still is all that takes and governs men: beauty is but composure, and we find content is but the concord of the mind; friendship the unison of well tun'd hearts, honour the chorus of the noblest parts. and all the worlds good on which we can reflect is musick to the ear, or to the intellect._ there are to make up a musical harmony computed seven notes; now in the easiest way expressed by the seven letters of the alphbet, _viz._ a. b. c. d. e. f. g. and if it so fall out, that a voice or musick gradually rise or fall more than seven notes; the subsequent 8th, 9th, or 10th, will in the same order proceed, bearing the like relation each to the other, as the 1st. 2d. 3d, _&c._ to which they respectively are _eights_. and so that from hence every eighth note, being in nature alike, is called by the name of that to which it is in an eighth; however above or below it; and for the better understanding the various musical compositions out of these notes, musicians have devised and make use of lines and characters, that as a language they may be understood and communicated by book, for the instruction of the unlearned: as in the following introductory example, you will perceive; [illustration: music] in this example, before i come nearer to particulars in general, observe first, that those characters you observe at the beginning of the lines, are termed cliffs or claves, keys to open and signify what part or pitch of voice, _viz._ the _treble_, _mean_, or _basse_ properly the notes belong to; as likewise on what line or space the seven letters expressing the notes is placed. and then again, the five lines and spaces between them are useful, as steps or gradations whereon the degrees of sound are to be expressed, or the notes ascending and descending: then thirdly, the characters placed on the five lines, express the notes themselves, or stand for them; and their difference in form, signify their quality, whether they be longer or shorter. your care must therefore be in this, and the chapters following, to consider well in the first place, the _gam-ut_, to learn the use of the cliffs: next to that, the names of the lines and spaces, whereby you may readily know how to call a note, as it stands on any of the lines; and thirdly, how you should sing those notes in right tune, as well by degrees, as leaps; and last of all, to give each note its due quantity of time. this in general, being observed, and seriously weighed; that you may take a prospect of your task, i from it proceed to the _gam-ut_, so far as i think necessary to my present design, which is to let you understand by it the use of the cliffs, with the order and distances of the notes, as the parts in a body lye together. [illustration: the gamut or scale of music] the consistence of this scale is of eleven lines, with the intermediate spaces, and contains the places of all the notes that are made use of ordinarily in vocal musick. in the first column you will find placed the old notes, being set down, that you may see what they are. and in the second column you are shewed which of the seven letters properly belongs to each line and space. the third column contains the cliffs, or signed keys, demonstrating how many degrees of notes they are one above another, which once circumspectly observed and known, the other degrees of distance are with more ease computed. and here five of these lines, with their spaces, are usually sufficient for the pricking down any tune, for which reason this scale is divided into three parts or staves, compassed in with arched lines; and of these the lowermost five are proper and belonging to the _bass_, and are known by this mark [symbol: bass clef] on the line of _f_. usually, therefore called the _f. fa-ut_ cliff or key; because it opens to us the letters standing on the other lines and spaces, as in the ensuing chapter will appear. as for the uppermost five lines, they contain the highest of the notes, and so belong to the treble or highest part. the key to which is marked in this manner, [symbol: g clef] and sometimes _g s._ on the lower line but one. the middle part or tenor, usually takes in two of the upper treble lines; also two of the bass lines, that in the middle only being proper to it self, known by this mark placed on it, [symbol: tenor clef mark] for the cliff or key, its place being properly in the middle line, however it is many times placed on one or other of the other lines; and note which ever the cliff stands on, that line is the place of _c._ and accordingly the other lines are to be reckoned: sometimes likewise we find the _bass cliff_ is removed to the middle line, and upon such removal, that line is _f, &c._ and tho' this manner of shifting the _cliff_ is troublesome, yet custom and practice having made the knowing of them necessary, you ought to be very well understanding in the manner of them, if you would be well skilled in vocal or instrumental musick. _the names of the lines and spaces._ having thus far plainly proceeded to introduce the beginner or learner, i now lead a step further to the names of the lines and spaces, which is a thing very materal in the beginning of learning. for in the _gam-ut_ having seen how the notes lye together in a body, it will be proper to know how you must take them into parts according to the several cliffs, which are three in number, three beginning usually, as most common with the uppermost. and in these your first care will be to learn the names of the lines and spaces, which are opened to you by the cliff or key; and these are in number seven, expressed in the seven letters, _a. b. c. d. e. f. g._ which for a more perfect sounds sake, and other reasons to be given, you must pronounce or call _la, b, ce, d, lã¦, fã¢, g_. and this _fa_ must be pronounced broad, _&c_. these and the like names the notes receive for two reasons; the first is, because the voice is best sent forth in expressing some syllable; as likewise that this number of notes might be known by as many distinct names, as for their places in the cliffs: see the plate following. [illustration: music] and it will be very necessary, that you should begin with and keep to one _cliff_ at the first, as it pleases you to chuse, or as either of the three best agrees with your voice for a high or low pitch. having gone through all the rules, and being perfect in that, then it is fit you should proceed to the other. there is no need you should meddle or trouble your self with the _tenor_ or _c cliff_ because it keeps no certain place; you must observe however, before you go further, to be ready at naming the lines and spaces, so readily to tell, as soon as you look on them, what letter any line or space is called or named by. as for the rest, the _cliff_ leads you to them, for beginning there, and ascending, you will find the letters lying in order, and in descending; it is only your naming them backwards. the dash lines, which you perceive above and below, are added only when the notes ascend above the _staff_, or descend below it. _directions as to the distances of one note from another, as to sound._ in this case, the distances are not all equal, but that in the rising and falling of any eight notes, there are two lesser distances; and these are named _semitones_, or the _half notes_, which must be well observed and known, in remarquing their places in the _staff_ of lines; and the better to have them in your memory at all times take a rule from certain rhimes that point at their places, _viz._ _in every octave there are half notes two, which do to us their proper places shew; one half note you will find from_ b _to_ ce, _the other half one lyes twixt_ fa _and_ le. the _octave_ mentioned as an eighth, and this rule denotes the ordinary places where you are to sing the half notes, when there are no flats or sharps placed or set in the lines, _viz._ between _b_ and _ce_, and twixt _le_ and _fã¢_; these flats and sharps you will find thus marked [symbol: for flat] [symbol: for sharp] and when the _semitones_, or _half notes_ are shifted, they are known by them when they are found upon the lines. [illustration: music] observe, that in these staves or lines, you find the notes gradually ascending, of which the pairs marked with arches are half a note distant. +-------+ g. | | +-------+ f. 1 +-------+ e. | | 2 +-------+ d. | | 3 +-------+ c. 4 +-------+ b. | | 5 +-------+ a. | | 6 +-------+ g. this marginal figure, shews to the eye the distance of the seven notes one from another, the letters guiding or directing to the particulars, whereas you perceive _b_, _ce_, and _lã¢_, _fa_, lying near unto the rest, so must their sounds be nearer when you come to tune your voice in harmony, _&c._ and the better to express with your voice, and so observe the difference between half and whole distances of notes; sing often over these six mona-syllables, _viz._ _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, _six_, distinctly, as is to be observed in the tune of six bells; and when you have done it many times, sing only _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, and there stop, repeating three four by them selves for they are _semitones_ distant in sound, and the rest are alone, or a whole note distant each from the next; so that by a little judicial observation you will perceive the three and four bells to be a lesser distant in sound, than the other. the figures or number 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, in the foregoing marginal figures, shew the several distances to the eye of the six notes where _le_ is the first, _d_ the second, _&c._ and the third and fourth, are _ce_, _b_, distant half a note or tune. _directions for the tuning of notes, &c._ the properest and most easy way for tuning your notes rightly, must be considered either in following the voice of one skilled in musick, or singing, or some such tuned instrument, as is accomodated with frets or keys, which are the readiest and only ways as yet made use of by practitioners. that of a matter being most common, but where none of these can be had by the party desirous to learn, i shall lay down the following directions, which will very much instruct one that hath a musical ear, especially such a one as has heard, and can sing the notes of the six bells, of which, i presume, there are few, whose genius leads them to the science of musick, are ignorant. let me put then, supposing that you can sing, _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, _six_, right; then shall i by the help of these notes, proceed to set you further in the right, and lead you to all the rest. consider well then, that beginning to sing the first note, let it stand on what line or space it will, you may sing it with what tune you think fit, either higher low, (as to the pitch of your voice) but with this caution, that you reckon how many notes you have above or below it, that your voice in its pitch may be so managed as to reach them both without squeaking or grumbling, or any harsh or rough indecency of sound. for applying which six notes, observe this first example; make your beginning with the first _bar_, and with a high voice sing the _six notes_ you view on the _staff_ divers times, calling them over by the number, _viz._ _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, _six_, as in the foregoing section; when that is done; sing the same notes by their names, _viz._ _la_, _g_, _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, in the tune of six bells. [illustration: music] 2. in the second and third _bars_, you must sing the two first notes of the six by themselves, forward and backward: repeat all six in the fourth _bar_, and in the fifth and sixth _bars_, let the two last notes be repeated, _viz._ _d_, _ce_, forward and backward, and these notes are a whole tone distant, and by often repeating these notes in the second, third fourth and fifth _bars_, you will be better capable to know and distinguish their distance from the letter. [illustration: music] in the seventh _bar_ repeat the last three often over after all the six. first, down, _le_, _d_, _ce_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, &c. and then proceed backwards, as _ce_, _d_, _le_, _ce_, _d_, _le_, &c. [illustration: music] observe in this eighth _bar_ after all six often to repeat the four first, as, _la_, _g_, _fa_, _le_, and when you sing them particularly, observe the two notes _fã¢_, _le_, by reason their distance is a _semitone_; wherefore you must take notice in the ninth _bar_ to sing them by themselves so many times as you can conveniently fix them in your memory, as to their distance, for in this you will find it somewhat difficult to sing the half notes true in their proper places. [illustration: music] observe here in the tenth _bar_ to sing the four first notes in their order downwards and upwards, and in the eleventh _bar_ you must first sing the six notes in their proper order: after this repeat the four last notes, _viz._ _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, taking notice to leave out the two first notes, _viz._ _la_, _g_, continually observing to mark the _semitone_ between _fã¢_, _le_, which two notes you must sing by themselves in the twelfth _bar_. [illustration: music] take notice now further, that in the thirteenth _bar_ you sing _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, down and up, as you find them pricked, and observe especially the three last, _viz._ _fã¢_, _le_, _fa_, for this reason, _viz._ that it is a common close or ending of tunes. also observe, if in any place you doubt you sing right a repeated part of the six notes, premised as are noted in the eleventh and thirteenth _bars_: let all the six notes be sung over again in order, and so proceed distinctly to try at the parts themselves. the second example. [illustration: music] you having now gone over the former examples, must proceed by the same clue of six notes to descend three gradations or steps lower, _viz._ to _g._ which is to the second note of the first six, an _octave_ or eighth. first then, in the first _bar_ you must begin with a high pitch in your voice, and so having sung, as in the former examples, _la_, _g_, _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, leave out _la_, and only sing the five last: then repeat only three in the second bar, _viz._ the three last _la_, _d_, _ce_, calling them now not by those names, but by that of _one_, _two_, _three_, and though the names are altered, you must not alter the tune or tone. having thus proceeded, observe in the third bar to sing the six notes from _le_, to _g_, naming them as the bells _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, _six_; in such a manner, that the three first of these be in tune, the same with the three last of the former six; after, as i said, you have sung them as the bells, _viz._ _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, at least four or five times, then as often sing them again by their proper names, _viz._ _le_, _d_, _ce_, _b_, _la_, _g_. observe again, that in the fourth bar you sing the four first notes, _la_, _d_, _ce_, _b_, about four times over; after that repeat _ce_, _b_, by themselves taking good notice of their distance or differences, which is a _semitone_ like to _fã¢_, _le_ above, _&c._ consider once more, as to this example, as to the fifth bar after all the six are sung by you, repeat the last four, _viz._ _ce_, _b_, _lã¢_, _g_, do it often over, keeping them up in the same tone they had in all six, by which means _ce_ and _b_ will be distant half a note, whereupon sing them backward, _viz._ _g_, _lã¢_, _b_, _ce_, and at the end repeat _d ce_, as you did _le fã¢_ at the thirteenth bar before set down. [illustration: music] observe further now in these six bars, that when you have sung all six in order, sing the three first _le_, _d_, _ce_, and there stop; then proceed to sing those three over again in the same tune, nor calling them _le_, _d_, _ce_, but _three_, _four_, _five_; do it several times, and so proceed to the seventh bar, adding two notes above, and sing them on the five bells, _viz._ _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_, _five_, three or four times; then call them by their names, _viz._ _g_, _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, then proceed to the eighth bar, and add to the other five _d_, _la_, _g_, to make up an _octave_, keeping in your mind the distances, as you sing them in the former examples; and by this means you have the whole _octave_ or eight notes from _g_ to _g_, which must be practised down and up, and when you are perfect in it, so as to sing your distances true with the _semi-tones_ in their right places, the following directions will lead you through the rest of the notes to sing any other _octave_, beginning at any other letter. [illustration: music] begin at _le_ again in the ninth bar, and begin the six notes, _viz._ _le_, _d_, _ce_, _b_, _la_, _g_, in proper order, that done, repeat the two last notes, _viz._ _la_, _g_, by themselves: so proceed to the tenth bar, and sing _la_, _g_, _fã¢_, _le_, _d_, _ce_, so that _la_ and _g_, may be the same in tune as you found them in the former six; and if so be your voice will not reach _ce_, at the pitch you began the first bar, then sing as far as you can, or begin at _le_, at the ninth bar higher, singing these three last bars distinctly from the foregoing. [illustration: music] in the eleventh bar you must sing backward, your six last notes, _viz._ _ce_, _d_, _le_, _fã¢_, _g_, _la_. rising from _ce_, to _la_, so going one step backward to _g_, rise to _ce_, as in the foregoing fifth bar, which is an _octave_ to the lower _ce_. and thus much may suffice for the beginner to practice on, which, if well understood, will bring him in to sing notes in any tune. _of cock-fighting._ herein let us first observe the choice of a _cock_ of the game, directed by these four characters following: that he be: 1. of a strong _shape_, proud and upright, and for this the _middle-sized_, neither too small or too large, is best, because most matchable, strong and nimble. his _head_ small like a _sparrow-hawks_; his _eye_ large and quick; _back_ strong crook't at the setting on, and coloured as the plume of his feathers; the _beam of his leg_ very strong, and colour'd as his plume; _spurs_ long, rough, and sharp, hooking inward. 2. of a good _colour_, and herein the gray, yellow, or red pyle, with a black breast, are to be preferred; the pyde rarely good, and the white and dun never. a scarlet head is a demonstration of courage, but a pale and wan of faintness. 3. of _courage true_, which you shall observe by his proud, stately, upright landing and walking, and his frequent crowing in his pen. 4. _of a sharp and ready heel_, which (in the opinion of the best _cock-masters_,) of high estimation; a _sharp-heel'd cock, tho' somewhat false, is better_ (as dispatching his business soonest) _than a true cock with a dull heel_. for _breeding_, the best season is from the moon's encrease in _february_, to her encrease in _march_. the _march_ bird is best. and now first get a _perfect cock, to a perfect hen_, as the best breeding, and see the _hen_ be of an excellent complexion (_i.e._) rightly plumed, as black, brown, speckt, grey, grissel, or yellowish; tufted on her crown, large bodied, well poked, and having weapons, are demonstrations of excellency and courage. observe further her comportment, if friendly to her chickens, and revengeful of injuries from other hens. when the _cock_ and _hen-chickens_, (going till now promiscuously one with another) begin to quarrel and peck each other, part them and separate their walks: and the best for a fighting cock, are private and undisturbed walks, as, _wind-mills_, _water-mills_, _grange-houses_, _park-lodges_, &c. and their _feeding-place_ on soft ground, or boards; and have for his meet, _white corn_, or _white-bread tosts_, steept in drink, or urine, is good, both to scower, and cool them. and do not debilitate and debauch his courage and strength, by having too many _hens_ to walk with; three _hens_ are enough for one _cock_. if before they be six months old, any of your _chickens crow_ clear and loud, and unseasonable, then to the pot or spit with them, they are cowards; the true _cock_ is long ere he gets his voice, and when he has gotten it, keeps good and judicious time in crowing. next observe your _roosting perch_, for this makes or marrs a _cock_; for forming of which, consult the best _cock-masters_ feeding pens, and the perches there, and accordingly proportion your own; take care that the ground underneath the perch be soft, for if it be rough and hard, in leaping down he will hurt his feet, and make them gouty and knotty. for the _dieting_, and _ordering_ of your _cock_ for battle, observe these rules. let your _cock_ be full two years old, then in the latter end of _august_, take up and pen him, (it being now _cocking-time_ till the end of _may_) and see that he be sound, hard feather'd, and full summed. the first four days after penning, feed him with the crumb of old _manchet_ cut into square bits, thrice a day, and with the coldest, and sweetest spring-water that can be had. and after you think by this time he is throughly purged of his _corn_, _worms_, _gravel_, and other course feeding, take him in the morning out of the pen, and let him _sparr_ with another _cock_ some time to heat and chafe their bodies, break fat and glut, and fit them for purgation; first having covered their spurs with hots of leather, to hinder their wounding and drawing blood of one another. after they have sufficiently _sparred_, that they pant again, take them up, and remove their hots, and prepare them for a sweating bout thus: take _butter_, and _rosemary_, finely chopt, and _white-sugar-candy_, mixt together; and give them the quantity of a _wallnut_; which will scower, strengthen, and prolong breath: then having (purposely) deep _straw baskets_, fill them half way with _straw_, put in your _cock_, and cover him with _straw_ to the top; lay the lid close, and let him stove till the evening. at five a clock take him out, and lick his head and eyes with your tongue, then pen him, and fill his trough with _manchet_ and hot _urine_. after this, take a gallon of _wheat_, and _oatmeal-flower_, and with _ale_, half a score _whites_ of _eggs_, and _butter_, work it into a stiff _past_; bake it into broad _cakes_, and when four days old, cut it into square bits. the second day after _sparring_, bring your _cock_ into a green-close, and shew him in your arms a _dung-hill-cock_, then run from him, and allure him thus to follow, suffering him now and then to strike the _dung-hill-cock_, and so chase him up and down for half an hour, till he pants again; and thus heated, carry him home, and scour him with half a pound of _fresh-butter_, beaten with the leaves of the _herb of grace_, _hysop_, and _rosemary_, to the consistence of a _salve_, and give him the quantity of a _wallnut_; then _stove_, and _feed_ him as above. and thus for the first fortnight, spar or chase him every other day. the second fortnight, twice a week will be enough to chase or spar your _cock_: observing that you stove and scour him, proportionable to his heating. the third and last fortnight (for six weeks is long enough) feed him as before, but do not spar him, but chase him moderately twice, or thrice, as before; then roll his aforesaid scouring in _brown-sugar-candy_, to prevent his being sick; rest him four days, and then to the pit. now gentlemen, match your cock carefully, or what you have hitherto done, is nothing. and here observe the length, and strength of cocks. the length is thus known: gripe the cock by the waste, and make him shoot out his legs, and in this posture compare, _and have your judgment about you_. the strength is known by this maxim, _the largest in the garth, is the strongest cock_. the dimension of the _garth_ is thus known: gripe the _cock_ about from the joynts of your thumb, to the points of your great finger, and you will find the disadvantage, _the weak long cock is the quickest easier riser, and the short strong one, the surest striker._ thus being well matcht, accoutre him for the pit. clip his _main_ off close to his neck, from his head to his shoulders. clip his tail close to his rump, the redder it appears the better. his wings sloping, with sharp points; scrape smooth, and sharpen his spurs; leave no feathers on his crown; then moisten his head with spittle. the battle done, search and suck your cocks wounds, and wash them well with hot _urine_, then give him a roll of your best scouring, and stove him for that night. if he be swelled, the next morning, suck and bathe his wounds again, and pounce them with the powder of the herb _robert_, through a fine bag; give him an handful of bread in warm _urine_, and stove him, till swelling be down. if he be hurt in his eye, chew a little ground _ivy_, and spit the juice in it; which is good for _films_, _haws_, _warts_, &c. or if he hath _veined_ himself in his fight, by narrow striking, or other cross blows, when you have found the hurt, bind the soft down of hair to it, will cure it. when you visit your wounded _cocks_, a month or two after you have put them to their walks, if you find about their heads any swollen bunches, hard and blackish at one end, then there are unsound cores undoubtedly in them; therefore open them, and with your thumb crush them out, suck out the corruption, and fill the holes with fresh butter; and that will infallibly cure them. _cures for distempers incident to the cock or chick of the game._ for _lice_, being most common, i begin with; proceeding from corrup meat, and want of bathing, _&c._ take _pepper_ beaten to powder, mix it with warm water, and wash them with it. for the _roup_; a filthy swelling on the rump, and very contagious to the whole body; the staring and turning back of the feathers is its symptom. pull away the feathers, open and thrust out the core, and wash the sore with water and salt, or brine. for the _pip_; visit the mouth, and examine what hinders your _cocks_, _hen_, or _chicks_ feeding, and you'll find a white thin scale on the tip of the tongue, which pull off with your nail, and rubbing the tongue with salt, will cure it. for the _flux_; proceeding from eating too moist meat, give them pease-bran scalded, will stop it. for the _stoppage of the belly_, that they cannot mute; anoint their vents, and give them either small bits of bread or corn, steep'd in _urine_ of man. and now i have one word of advice to him that is a lover (or would be so) of this _royal-sport_: and then have done: _come not to the pit without money in your breeches, and a judgment of matches_; done and done is _cock-pit_ law, and if you venture beyond your pocket, you must look well to it, or you may lose an eye by the battle. _of fowling._ the _ingenious fowler_, like a politick and sagacious warrier, must first furnish and store himself with those several stratagems and engines, as suit with the diversities of _occasion_, _i.e._ _time_, _place_, and _game_; or else he cannot expect the _conquest_. and first of _nets_, which must be made of the best pack-thread; and for taking great _fowl_, the meshes must be large, two inches at least from point to point, the larger the better; (provided the _fowl_ creep not through;) two fathom deep, and six in length, is the best and most manageable proportion; verged with strong cord on each side, and extended with long poles at each end made on purpose. but for small _water-fowl_, let your nets be of the smallest and strongest pack-thread, the meshes so big, as for the great _fowl_, about two or three foot deep: line these on both sides with false nets, every mesh a foot and half square. for the _day-net_, it must be made of fine pack-thread, the mesh an inch square, three fathom long, and one broad, and extended on poles according to its length, as aforesaid. _birdlime_ is the next, and thus made. pill the bark of _holly_ from the tree at _midsummer_, fill a vessel, and put to it running water; boil it over the fire till the grey and white bark rise from the green; take it off the fire, drain the water well away, and separate the barks; and take the green, lay it on some moist floor and close place, and cover it with weeds; let it lye a fortnight, and in that time it will rot, and turn to a filthy slimy substance: then put it into a morter, beat it well; take it out and wash it at some running stream, till the foulness is gone: then put it in a close earthen pot; let it stand four or five days, look to its purging, and scum it: when clean, put it into another earthen pot, and keep it close for use. your _setting-dog_ must be elected and train'd thus: he must be of exquisite scent, and love naturally to hunt feathers. the land spaniel is best, being of good nimble size, and couragious mettle, which you may know by his breed; being of a good ranger, _&c._ the first lesson is, to make him _crouch and lie down_ close to the ground; its done by frequent laying him on the ground and crying _lye close_; upon his doing well reward him with bread; and on the contrary chastise him with words, not blows. next, _to creep to you with his body and head close upon the ground_ by saying, _come nearer, come nearer_, or the like words; to understand and do it, entice him with shewing him bread, or the like: thrusting down any rising part of his body or head, and roughly threatning him; if he slight that, a good jerk or two with a slash of whip-cord will reclaim his obstinacy. repeat his lessons, and encourage his well doing. and this you may exercise in the fields as you walk, calling him from his busie ranging to his duty. and then teach him to follow you close at the heels in a line or string, without straining. by this time he is a year old, now (the season fit) into the field, and let him range, [obediently.] if he wantonly babble or causelesly open, correct him by biting soundly the roots of his ears, or lashing. assoon as you find he approaches the haunt of the _partridge_, known by his whining, and willing, but not daring, to open, speak and bid him, _take heed_: if notwithstanding this he rush in and spring the _partridge_, or opens, and so they escape, correct him severely. then cast him off to another haunt of a _covy_, and if he mends his error, and you take any by drawing your net over them swiftly, reward him with the heads, necks, and pinions. as for the water-dog, the instructions above for the _setter_ will serve; only to fetch and bring by losing a glove, or the like; keep a strict subjection in him, and observance to your commands. the longest _barrel is the best fowling piece_, five and half, or six foot long, with an indifferent bore, under an _harquebuse_; and shooting with the wind, and side-ways, or behind the fowl, not in their faces, is to be observed; having your dog in command not to stir till you have shot. _a stalking-horse_ for shelter, to avoid being seen by the shie fowl, is an old jade trained on purpose; but this being rare and troublesome, have recourse to art, to take canvas stuft and painted in the shape of a horse grazing, and so light that you-may carry him on one hand (not too big:) others do make them in the shape of _ox_, _cow_, for variety; and _stag_, _trees_, &c. the _great fowl_, or those who divide the foot, reside by shallow rivers sides, brooks and plashes of water; and in low and boggy places, and sedgie, marish, rotten grounds. they also delight in the dry parts of drowned fens, overgrown with long reeds, rushes and sedges; as likewise in half fens drowned moors, hollow vales or downs, heaths, _&c._ where obscurely they may lurk under the shelter of hedges, hills, bushes, _&c._ the lesser, or web footed, _fowl_, always haunt drowned fens, as likewise the main streams of rivers not subject to freeze, the deeper and broader, the better; (tho' of these the _wild-goose_ and _barnacle_, if they cannot sound the depth, and reach the ouze, change their residence for shallow places, and delight in green winter corn, especially if the lands ends have water about them:) small fowl also frequent hugely little brooks, ponds, drowned meadows, pastures, moors, plashes, meres, loughs, and lakes, stored with unfrequented islands, shrubs, _&c._ _how to take all manner of fowl or birds._ for taking the first (i mean the greater fowl) with nets, observe in general this: come two hours before their feeding hours, morning and evening; and spreading your net on the ground smooth and flat, stake the two lower ends firm, and let the upper ends be extended on the long cord; of which the further end must be fastned to the ground, three fathoms from the net, the stake in a direct line with the lower verge of the net; the other, ten or twelve fathom long, have in your hand at the aforsaid distance, and get some shelter of art or nature, to keep you from the curious and shy eye of the game; having your net so ready that the least pull may do your work, strew'd over with grass as it lies to hide it: a live _hern_, or some other fowl lately taken, according to what you seek for, will be very requisite for a stale. and you will have sport from the dawning, till the sun is about an hour high; but no longer; and from sun-set till twilight; these being their feeding times. for the small (water) fowl. observe the evening is best before sun-set. stake down your nets on each side the river half a foot within the water, the lower part so plumb'd as to sink no further; the upper slantwise shoaling against, but not touching by two foot, the water, and the strings which bear up this upper side fastned to small yielding sticks prickt in the bank, that as the fowl strike may ply to the nets to intangle them. and thus lay your nets (as many as you please) about twelve score one from another, as the river or brook will afford. and doubt not your success. to expedite it however, a gun fired three or four times in the fens and plashes, a good distance from your nets, will affright and post them to your snares; and so do at the rivers, when you lay in the fens. winter time is the most proper for taking all manner of small birds, as flocking then promiscuosly together, _larks_, _lennets_, _chaffinches_, _goldfinches_, _yellow-hammers_, &c. with this _bird-lime_, put to a quarter of a pound of _bird-lime_, an ounce of fresh _lard_, or _capons-grease_, and let it gently melt together over the fire, but not boyl; then take a quantity of _wheat-ears_, as you think your use shall require, and cut the straw about a foot long besides the ears, and from the ear lime the straw six inches; the warmer it is, the less discernible it will be. then to the field adjacent, carrying a bag of chaff, and thresh'd ears, scatter them twenty yards wide, and stick the lim'd ears (declining downwards) here, and there; then traverse the fields, disturb their haunts, and they will repair to your snare, and pecking at the ears, finding they stick to them, mount; and the lim'd straws, lapping under their wings, dead their flight, they cannot be disengaged, but fall and be taken they must. do not go near them, till they rise of their own accord, and let not five or six entangled lead you to spoil your game, and incur the loss of five or six dozen. _lime-twigs_, is another expedient for taking of great fowl, being rods that are long, small, strait, and pliable, the upper part apt to play to and fro; being besmeared with _bird-lime_ warm. thus to be used, observe the haunts of the fowl, have a stale, (a living fowl of the same kind you would take) and cross pricking your rods, one into, and another against the wind sloping, a foot distant one from the other; pin down your stale, some distance from them, tying some small string to him, to pull and make him flutter to allure the fowl down. if any be caught, do not run presently upon them, their fluttering will encrease your game. a well taught _spaniel_ is not amiss to retake those that are entangled, and yet flutter away. thus likewise for the water; consult the rivers depth, and let your rods be proportionable; what is lim'd of them being above the water, and a _mallard_, &c. as a stale placed here and there, as aforesaid. you need not wait on them, but three times a day visit them, and see your game; if you miss any rods (therefore know their number) some fowl entangled is got away with it, into some hole, _&c._ and here your _spaniel_ will be serviceable to find him. for _small-birds_, a _lime-bush_ is best; thus, cut down a great bough of a _birch_, or _willow-tree_, trim it clean, and lime it handsomely, within four fingers of the bottom: place this bush so ordered, in some quick-set, or dead _hedge_, in spring time: in harvest, or summer, in _groves_, _bushes_, _hedges_, _fruit-trees_, _flax_, and _hemp_-lands: in winter, about _houses_, _hovells_, _barns_, _stacks_, &c. a _bird-call_ is here also necessary, or your own industrious skill in the notes of several birds. and because gentlemen who have fish-ponds, wonder they lose so many fish, and are apt to censure sometimes undeservedly their neighbours, when it is the insatiable _hern_, that is the true cause: i shall next lay down the best and most approved way of taking the great fish-devouring _hern_, whose haunt having found, observe this method to take him. get three or four small _roaches_, or _dace_, take a strong hook, (not too rank) with wyre to it, and draw the wyre just within the skin, from the side of the gills, to the tail of the said fish, and he will live four or five days, (if dead the _hern_ will not touch it.) then have a strong line, of a dark green-silk, twisted with wyre, about three yards long, tie a round stone of a pound to it, and lay three or four such hooks, but not too deep in the water, out of the _herns_ wading; and two or three nights will answer your expectation. _the several wayes of taking_ pheasants. you must learn and understand the several notes of a natural _pheasant-call_, and how usefully to apply them. in the morning just before or at _sun-rising_, call them to feed, and so at _sun-setting_: in the fornoon, and afternoon, your note must be to cluck them together to brood, or to chide them for straggling, or to notify some danger at hand. thus skilled in their notes; and by the darkness, solitaryness, and strong undergrowth of the place assured of their haunts, closely lodge yourself, and softly at first call; lest being near you, a loud note affright them; and no reply made, raise your note gradually, to the highest; and if there be a _pheasant_ in hearing, he will answer you, in as loud a note. be sure it be tunable. as soon as you are answered, creep nearer to it; if far off, and a single fowl, as you call, and approach, so will the _pheasant_. having gotten sight of her, on the ground, or perch, cease calling, and with all silence possible, spread your net conveniently, between the _pheasant_, and you, one end of the net fastned to the ground, and the other end, hold by a long line in your hand, by which you may pull it together, if strained; then call again, and as you see the _pheasant_ come under your net, rise and shew your self, and affrighting her, she will mount, and so is taken. thus if on the contrary you have divers answers, from several _corners_, of the _coppice_, and you keep your place and not stir, they will come to your call; and then having a pair of nets, spread one on each side, and do as before. your nets, must be made of green or black double-twin'd thread, the mesh about an inch square, between knot, and knot, the whole net about three fathom long, and seven foot broad, verged with strong small cord on each side and ends, to lye hollow and compass-wise. the next way of taking _pheasant-powts_, is by driving, thus. having found the haunt of an _eye of pheasants_, known by the _barrenness_ of the place, _mutings_ and loose feathers, then in the little pads and wayes, like sheep tracks, they have made, place your nets (taking the wind with you) a-cross these paths hollow, loose and circularly, the nether part fixt to the ground, and the upper side hollow, _&c._ as aforesaid: then to their haunt, and there call them together, if feattered; then with a driver, an instrument like that of _cloath-dressers_, rake gently the bushes and boughs about you, the _powts_ will run, and stop and listen; then give another rake, and so you will drive them like sheep into your nets: observe in this _secrecy_, _time_ and _leisure_, or you spoil your sport; _secrecy_ in concealing your self from being seen by them; and _time_ and _leisure_, by not being too hasty. lastly for taking _pheasants_ with the _lime-bush_, or rods, order these, as i have before prescribed; your rods about twelve inches long, and your bush containing not above eight twigs, with a pretty long handle, sharpned to stick in the ground, or bushes, shrubs, _&c._ and let it be planted as near the _pheasants pearching branch_, as may be. place your rods on the ground, near the bush; for when some are taken below by they rods, they will scare up the others to get on the bushes to seek what's become of their fellows, and there become your prey themselves. _for taking partridge._ you must first find the _partridges_ haunt. which is mostly in standing corn-fields, where they breed; as likewise in stubble after the corn is cut, especially wheat-stubble till it is trodden, and then they repair to barley-stubble, if fresh; and the furrows amongst the clots, brambles and long grass, are sometimes their lurking places, for twenty and upward in a covy. in the winter in up-land meadows, in the dead grass or fog under hedges, among mole-hills; or under the roots of trees, &c. various and uncertain are their haunts. and tho' some by the eye, by distinguishing their colour from the ground, others by the ear, by hearing the cock call earnestly the hen, and the hens answering, and chattering with joy at meeting, do find _partridge_; yet the best, easiest and safest way of finding them is (as you do the _pheasant_) by the call or pipe: notes seasonable, as before prescribed, and they will come near to you, and you may count their numbers; and to your sport. surround your covy, prepare your nets, and pricking a stick fast in the ground, tye the one end to it, and let your nets fall as you walk briskly round without stopping, and cover the _partridge_; then rush in upon them to frighten them, and as they rise they are taken. for taking them with _bird-lime_, thus: call first near the _haunt_; if answered, stick about your _lime-straws_, a-cross in ranks at some distance from you; then call again, and as they approach you, they are intercepted by the straws; and so your prey. this way is used most successfully in stubble-fields, from _august_ to _september_: and rods in woods, pastures, _&c._ as for the _pheasant_. the most pleasant way of taking partridge is with a _setting-dog_, who having set them, use your net; and by these rules and method, the _rails_, _quales_, _moorpoots_, &c. are to be taken; and are for _hawks_ flight too. and here i must make an end of the most material part of _fowling_. _of fishing._ it has been the method of this whole treatise, to divide the several distinct heads of each recreation into three parts, to render the observations and rules the more plain and easy, for the prosecuting the recreation we treat of. 1. _what_ it is we pursue. 2. _where_ and _when_ to find that we would delight our selves in. 3. _with what_ proper _mediums_ or measures we may obtain the desired effects of our endeavours therein. first then, _what_ we pursue is fish, distinguish'd according to their sundry kinds by these following names. the _barbel_, _bream_, _bleak_, _bulhead_, or _millers-thumb_; _chevin_, _char_, _chub_, _carp_; _dace_; _dare_; _ele_; _flounder_; _grayling_, _gudgeon_, _guiniad_; _loach_; _minnow_; _pope_ or _pike_, _pearch_; _rud_, _roach_; _sticklebag_ or _bansticle_, _salmon_, _shad_, _suant_; _tench_, _torcoth_, _trout_, _thwait_, and _umber_. all these alphabetically thus named are the different sorts of fish, in taking which the angler commonly exercises his art. we come next, _where_ to find them. 1. to know the haunts and resorts of fish, in which they are to be usually found, is the most material thing the angler ought to be instructed in, lest he vainly prepare _how to take_ them, and preposterously seek _where to find_ that he prepar'd for. to prevent which you are first to understand, that as the season of the year is, so fish change their places: in _summer_, some keep near the top, others the bottom of the waters. in _winter_, all fish in general resort to deep waters. but more particularly, the _barbel_, _roach_, _dace_, and _ruff_, covet most _sandy, gravelly ground_, the deepest part of the river, and the shadows of _trees_. _bream_, _pike_, and _chub_ delight in a _clay_, and _owzie ground_: the _bream_ chooseth the middle of the river, in a gentle, not too rapid stream: the _pike_ preferreth still waters, full of _fry_, and absconding himself amongst _bull-rushes_, _water-docks_, or under _bushes_, that under these shelters he may more securely surprize and seize his prey: the _chub_ too chooses the same ground, large rivers and streams, and is rarely destitute of some tree to cover and shade him. _carp_, _tench_ and _eel_, frequent foul muddy still waters. the greatest _eels_ lurk under stones, or roots; the smallest ones are found in all sorts of rivers or soils: the _carp_ is for the deepest stillest part of pond or river, and so is the _tench_, and both delight in green weeds. _pearch_ delighteth in gentle streams of a reasonable depth, not too shallow; close by a hollow bank is their common sanctuary. _gudgeon_ covets sandy, gravelly, gentle streams, and smaller rivers; not so much abounding in brooks. he bites best in spring, till they spawn, and a little after till _wasp_ time. the _salmon_ delights in large swift rivers, which ebb and flow; and are there plentifully to be found: as likewise rocky and weedy rivers. but in the latter end of the year he is to be found high up in the country, in swift and violent cataracts, coming thither to spawn. the _trout_ loves small swift purling brooks or rivers, that run upon stones or gravel, and in the swiftest deepest part of them, getteth behind some stone-block and there feeds. he delights in a point of a river where the water comes whirling like the eddy, to catch what the stream brings down, especially if he has the shade of a tree: he hugely delights to lurk under some hollow bank or stone; seldom among weeds. _shad_, _thwait_, _plaice_, _peel_, _mullet_, _suant_, and _flownder_, covet chiefly to be in or near the salt or brackish waters, which ebb and flow: the last, _viz._ the _flownder_, have been taken in fresh rivers, as coveting sand and gravel, deep gentle streams, near banks, _&c._ lastly the _umber_ affects marly clay ground, clear and swift streams, far from the sea; the greatest plenty of these fish is found in _darbyshire_ and _staffordshire_. thus much for the haunts of fish; i come next to know _when_ is the most _seasonable time_ to catch them; which before i speak to, let him that would become a compleat angler, take this rule. that he observe narrowly what pond or river soever he fisheth in, whether it be slimy, muddy, stony or gravelly, whether of a swift or slow motion; as likewise that he know the nature of each fish, and what baits are most proper for every kind: not to let his knowledge be circumscribed to one or two particular rivers, whither he is invited to angle and take his observations by the vicinity of his house; but to let his knowledge be _general_, and consequently his sport will be so too. his ignorance otherwise will oblige him to be a spectator in another river, when his excellency is confined to that only experienced one in or near his own parish or house. but to proceed, ii. to understand the best _time when_ to angle in, we must first consider affirmatively, when most _seasonable_: or, 2. negatively, when _unseasonable_. 1. _seasonable_ angling is, when the weather is calm, serene and clear; tho' the cool cloudy weather in summer is to be preferred, provided the wind blow not too boistrously, to hinder your easy guiding your tools; in the hottest months the cooler the better. 2. when a violent shower hath disturbed the water and mudded it, then with a red worm, angle in the stream at the ground. 3. a little before fish spawn, when they repair to gravelly fords to rub and loosen their full bellies; they bite freely. 4. from sun-rising till eight of the clock in the morning, and from four in the afternoon till night for _carp_ and _tench_. in _june_ and _july_, _carps_ shew themselves on the very rim of the water, then fish with a lob-worm, as you would with a natural fly. but be sure to keep out of sight. 5. in _march_, _april_, and _september_, and all winter, when the air is clear, serene and warm. and after a shower of rain, which hath only beaten the _gnats_, and _flies_ into the river, without muddying. the two first mentioned months with _may_, and part of _june_, are most proper for the _fly_; nine in the morning, and three a clock in the afternoon, is the best time; as likewise, when the _gnats_ play much in a warm evening. 6. in a _cloudy_, and _windy_ day, after a moonshine clear night, for the brightness of the night (through fear) making them abstain from feeding, and the gloominess of the day emboldening and rendering them (through hunger) sharp, and eager upon food, they bite then freely. 7. lastly, at the opening of _milldams_ or _sluces_, you will find _trouts_, &c. come forth seeking food, brought down by the water. we come next to demonstrate the time not proper, _i.e._ 2. _unseasonable_ angling, in short is, when the earth is parched, and scorched with vehement heat, and drought; benummed and frozen with cold, frost, and snow; or refrigerated with spring hoar-frosts; or blasted with the sharp, bitter, nipping, north, or east winds: or when blustring _boreas_ disorders your well guiding your tackling; or the _sheep-shearers washings_ glutted the fish, and anticipated your bait; when the withdrawing of your sport, foretells a storm, and advises you to some shelter; or lastly, when the night proves dark, and cloudy, you need not trouble your self the next day, 'tis to no purpose, _&c._ iii. for providing _stocks_, the best time is the winter _solstice_, when the sap is in the roots of trees, and their leaves gone. it is improper after _january_, the sap then ascending into the trunk, and expending it self over all the branches. see that your stocks be _taper-grown_, and your tops of the best _ground-hazle_, that can be had, smooth, slender, and strait, of an ell long, pliant and bendings and yet of a strength, that a reasonable jerk cannot break it, but it will return to its first straightness; left otherwise you endanger your line. keep them two full years, before you use them; having preserved them from worm-eating, or rotting, by thrice a year rubbing, and chaffing them well with butter (if sweet) or linsed or sallet-oyl; and if bored, oyl poured into the holes, and bathed four and twenty hours in it, and then thrown out again, will exceedingly preserve them. the line, to make it neat, handsom and strong, twist the hair you make it of _even_, having seen if the hair be of an equal bigness; then steep your line in water, to see if the hairs shrink, if so, you must twist them over again. the colour of the hair is best of _sorrel_, _white_ and _grey_; _sorrel_ for muddy boggy rivers, and the two last for clear waters. nor is the _pale watery green_ contemptible, died thus: take a pint of strong _ale_, half a pound of _soot_, a little of the juice of _walnut-leaves_ and _allum_; boil these together in a pipkin half an hour, take it off, and when 'tis cold, put in your hair. in making your line of hair mix not silk; but either all hair, or all silk; as likewise distinguish the line for the ground angle, and that for the fly-rod, the last must be stronger than the first; in that for the artificial fly, making the uppermost link twenty hairs long, less in the next, and so less till you come to the fly. lastly at each end of your line make a loop (called a _bout_) the one larger, to fasten to, and take it from the top of your rod, and the other lesser to hang your hook-line on. your hook must be long in the shank, something round in compass, the point strait and even, and bending in the shank. set on your hook with strong small silk, laying your hair on the inside of the hook. your _flote_ challenges divers ways of making. some using _muscovy_ duck quills for still waters. others the best sound cork without flaws or holes, bored through with a hot iron, and a quill of a fit proportion put into it; then pared into a pyramidal form, or in the fashion of a small pear, to what bigness you please, and ground smooth with grindstone or pumice; this is best for strong streams. in fine, _to plum the ground_, get a _carbine_ bullet bored through, and in a strong twist hanged on your _hook_ or rod. to sharpen your _hook_, carry a little _whetstone_. to carry your several utensils without incommoding your tackle, have several _partitions_ of parchment. and in short the ingenious angler will not be unprovided of his _bob_ and _palmer_; his boxes of all sizes for his _hooks_, _corks_, _silk_, _thread_, _flies_, _lead_, &c. his _linning_ and _woollen bait-bags_; his splinted _osier light pannier_; and lastly his _landen hook_, with a screw at the end to screw it into the socket of a pole, and stricken into the fish, to draw it to land: to which socket, a hook to cut up the weeds, and another to pull out wood, may be fastned. _baits_ are branched into three kinds. first, the _life-baits_, which are all kind of _worms_, _redworm_, _maggot_, _dors_, _frogs_, _bobb_, _brown-flies_, _grasshoppers_, _hornets_, _wasps_, _bees_, _snails_, small _roaches_, _bleak_, _gudgeon_, or _loaches_. secondly, _artificial living baits_, of _flies_ of all sorts and shapes, made about your hooks with silk and feathers, at all times seasonable, especially in blustering weather. lastly, _dead baits_, pasts of all makings, wasps dryed or undryed, clotted _sheeps-blood_, _cheese_, _bramble-berries_, _corn_, _seed_, _cherries_, &c. the two first good in _may_, _june_ and _july_, the two next, in _april_; and the last in the fall of the leaf. _of flies._ of _natural_ flies there are innumerable, and therefore it cannot be expected i can particularize all; but some of their names i shall nominate, _viz._ the _dun-fly_, _red-fly_, _may-fly_; _tawny-fly_, _moor-fly_, _shell-fly_, _flag-fly_, _vine-fly_, _cloudy_ or _blackish-fly_, _canker-flies_, _bear-flies_, _caterpillars_, and thousands more, differing according to the soils, rivers or plants. _artificial flies_, are made by the ingenious angler, according to art, in shape, colour and proportion like the natural fly, of _fur_, _wool_, _silk_, _feathers_, &c. to delineate which i must confess my self not so accurate and skilful a painter, nor can any pen-drawing, illustrate their various colours so, as to direct their artificial counterfeit; nature will help him in this by observation, curiously flourishing their several orient and bright colours, after which they take their names, as before said: and therefore to furnish your self with both natural and artificial flies, repair in the morning to the river, and with a rod beat the bushes that hang over the water, and take your choice. 1. observe to angle with the artificial fly in rivers disturbed somewhat by rain, or in a cloudy day, the wind blowing gently: if the wind be not so high, but you may well guide your tackle, in plain deeps is to be found the best fish, and best sport: if small wind breeze, in swift streams is best angling: be sure to keep your fly in perpetual slow motion; and observe that the weather suit the colour of your fly, as the light colour'd in a clear day, the darkish in a dark, _&c._ as likewise according to the waters complexions, have your fly suitable. 2. let your line be twice as long as your rod: keep as far as you can from the waterside, the sun on your back; in casting your fly, let that fall first; your line not touching the water. 3. have a nimble eye, and active quick hand to strike presently upon the rising of the fish, lest finding his mistake he spew out the hook. 4. in slow rivers cast your fly cross them, let it sink a little, draw it back gently, without breaking or circling the water; let the fly float with the current, and you will not fail of excellent sport. 5. observe to let the wings of your _salmon-flies_ to be one behind another, whether two or four, and they and the tail long, and of the finest gaudiest colours you can choose. _lastly_, in clear rivers a small fly with slender wings is best, and in muddied rivers a fly of a more than ordinary large body. thus much for flies, i come next to that i called _dead-baits_, and shall begin with the several ways of making pastes. _of pastes._ 1. beat in a mortar the leg of a young _coney_ (vulgarly called the _almond_) or of a whelp or catling, and a quantity of virgins wax and sheeps suet, till they are incorporated, and temper them with clarified _honey_ into paste. 2. _sheeps-blood_, _cheese_, fine _manchet_ and clarified _honey_ tempered as before. 3. _sheeps-kidney-suit_, _cheese_, fine _flower_, with clarified _honey_ tempered. 4. _cherries_, _sheeps-blood_, _saffron_ and fine _manchet_ made into a paste. 5. beat into a paste; the fattest old _cheese_, the strongest _rennet_ can be got, fine _wheat-flower_ and _annis-seed_ water: if for a _chub_ you make the paste, put a little rasty _bacon_, lastly, _mutton-kidney-suit_, and _turmerick_ reduced to a fine powder, the fattest old _cheese_ and strongest _rennet_, wrought to a paste, adding _turmerick_ till the paste be of a curious yellow; and is excellent for _chevin_. anoint your bait with this confection: take the oyl of _aspray_, _coculus india_, and _assa-foetida_ beaten, and mix with it as much life-honey; then dissolve them in the oyl of _polypody_, and keep it in a close glass for your use. and that your paste may not wash off your hook, beat cotten-wool or flax into it. _of keeping baits._ the _red-worm_, must be kept in a bag of red cloth, with a handful of chopt _fennel_, mixt with half so much fresh, black and fertile mould will scoure and preserve them: all other worms, with the leaves of trees they are bred on, renewing them often in a day. only the _cad-bait_, _bob_ and _canker_, &c. must be kept in the same things you find them. the great _white maggots_, keep them in sheeps tallow, or little bits of a beasts liver; and to scour them, hang them warm in a bag of blanketing with sand. the _frogs and grasshoppers_, in wet moss and long grass, frequently moistned; and when used, the legs of the first, and the wings of the other must be cut close off. the _flies_, use them as you take them. only, the _wasps_, _hornets_ and _humble-bee_, must be dryed in an oven, their heads dipt in sheeps blood, and dryed again, may be kept in a box for use. and now thus equipt let us walk to the rivers side. to begin then with the _barbel_. the best time for angling for this fish is at the latter end of _may_, _june_, _july_, and beginning of _august_, in his haunts aforementioned; and the best bait (omitting others) is the well scoured _lob-worm _(being of a curious cleanly palate as well as shape) or cheese steept an hour or two in clarified honey. he is a subtile fish, extraordinary strong, and dogged to be dealt with, and therefore be sure to have your rod and line strong and long, or you may endanger to break it. for the _breame_. the most seasonable time to angle is from st. _james_ tide till _bartholomew_ tide. he spawneth in _june_ or beginning of _july_; is easily taken, as falling on his side after one or two gentle turns, and so drawn easily to land. the best bait for him (most delightful to him) is the _red-worm_ (found in commons and chalky grounds after rain) at the root of a great dock, wrapt up in a round clue. he loves also paste, flag-worms, wasps, green-flies, butter-flies and a grass-hopper, without legs. bait your ground the night before with gross-ground malt, boiled and strained, and then in the morning with the red-worm, bait your hook, and plumbing your ground within half an inch, fish. the _bleak_, an eager fish, is caught with all sorts of worms bred on trees or herbs, also with _flies_, _cad-bait_, _bobs_, _paste_, _sheeps-blood_, _white snails_, _wasps_, _gnats_, &c. in a warm clear day the small fly at the rim of the water is best; in a cloudy day, _gentles_ or _cad_-baits two foot in the water. the _bull-head_ or _millers-thumb_, being childrens recreation, i shall speak little of them, only being serviceable for baits, i shall only say he is easily taken with a small worm, being lazy and simple, and will swallow any thing; and the _minnow_, _loach_, and _bansticle_ being of the same diet, i place here too. the _chevin_, loveth all sorts of worms, _flies_, _cheese_, _grain_, and _black worms_, their bellies being slit, that the white may be seen: and very much delighteth in the pith of an oxes back, the tough outward skin being carefully taken off, without breaking the inward tender skin. in the morning early angle for _chevins_, with a _snail_; in the heat of the day, with some other bait; in the afternoon with the fly; the great _moth_, with a great head, yellow body, and whitish wings, usually found in gardens, about the evening: the larger the _chevin_, the sooner taken; loving his bait larger, and variety on a hook. the _char_ is a _lancashire_ fish, found in a _mere_, called _winander-mere_ in that country, the largest in _england_. for the _chub_, called by some a _chevin_, by others a _villain_. bait your hook with a grass-hopper, find the hole where he lies, accompanied in a hot-day, with twenty or more, floating almost on the very superficies of the water; choose which you think best, and fairest, and drop your hook some two foot before him, and he will bite at it greedily, and cannot break hold with his _leather mouth_; let him play and tire, lest you break your line. if you cannot get a _grass-hopper_, then any worm, or fly you will. in cold weather, fish for him near the bottom, and the _humble-bee_ is the best bait. some appropriate baits according to the month, but i shall omit that; the _chub_ (being best and in his prime in the winter) a paste made of cheese, and turpentine, is the only bait to take him. the _carp_ is subtle, and full of policy, will never bite in cold weather, but in hot you cannot be too early, or too late. in _march_, he seldom refuseth the _red-worm_, in _june_ the _cad_ bait and the three next months the _grass-hopper_: pastes that are sweet, of which i have spoken before, are very delightful to _carps_: and especially, if you bait your ground two or three dayes before you angle, with pellets of course paste, _chickens-guts_, _garbage_, &c. _gentles_ anointed, and a piece of _scarlet_ dipt in _honey_, put them on the hook, is an approved way. the _dace_, _dare_, _rudd_, and _roach_, being much of a kind, and feeding, i shall put together, and are easily taken with small worms, _bobs_, _cad-baits_, _flies_, _sheeps-blood_, all sorts of worms bred on trees or herbs, _paste_, _wasps_, _gnats_, _lipberries_, &c. the heads of the _wasps_, being dipt in blood, is good for _dace_, and _dare_; as is likewise the _ant fly_. the _eel_, takes great _red-worms_, _beef_, _wasps_, _guts_ of _fowl_, or _fish_, _menows_, or small _roaches_ are good bait for night hooks; the hooks being in the mouth of the _fish_. now because this is very delightful to most, i shall prescribe three ways of taking them, as are most full of pleasure. the first way is called; _sniggling_, or _broggling_ for _eels_, thus: take a strong line and hook baited with a _lob_, or _garden-worm_, and observing where _eels_ lurk in the day time, with a stick forked at the top, gently put your bait into the hole, and if there be any _eels_ there, you will not fail of a bite, of as large as can be had, but pull not too hard lest you spoyl all. the second is called _bobbing_, which is thus done: take some large well scoured _lobs_, and with a needle, run some strong twisted silk through them, from end to end, so many as are enough to wrap about a board near a dozen times; tye them fast with the two ends of the silk to hang in so many hanks; then fasten all to a strong cord, and a handful above the worms fasten a plumbet of three quarters of a pound, and your cord to a strong pole, and in muddy waters, you may fish, and find the _eels_ tug lustily, and when you think they have swallowed them, draw up your line, and ashore with them. lastly the _eel-spear_ made with four teeth, jagged on both sides, stricken into the mud, on the bottom of a river, and if you chance to strike where they lye, you infallibly take. there is likewise an assured way of taking _eels_, thus done: take some bottles of hay, mixt with green _osiers_ of _willows_, bait them with sheeps-guts, or other beasts garbage, sink them down in the middle, to the bottom of your pond or by the bank sides, having fastned a cord to the bottles, that you may twitch them up at your pleasure, and all the best _eels_ will resort to them. the _flounder_, _shad_, _thwait_, _suant_, and _mullet_, are taken with _red-worms_ of all sorts, _wasps_, and _gentles_. for the _grayling_, you must head your hook upon the shank, with a slender and narrow plate of lead, that the bait (a large grass-hopper) may the more easily come over it; and at the point put a _cad-bait_, and keep the bait in continual motion; not forgetting to pull off the grass-hoppers wings. the _gudgeon_, takes the smallest red-worm, _wasps_, _gentles_, and _cadbaits_. when you fish for him, stir up the sand or gravel with a pole, which will make them gather thither, and bite more eagerly. the _guiniad_, i shall remit speaking to, only mentioning it in course, being no where found, but in a place called _pemble-mere_, in which place they abound, as the river _dee_ does with _salmon_. the _pope_, or _ruff_, is excellent for a young angler, bites greedily, and quantities may be taken, by baiting the ground with fat earth, and your hook with small red-worms. the _pike_, loveth all sorts of baits (unless the fly) _gudgeon_, _dace_, _roaches_ and _loaches_; and young _frogs_ in summer time, of which the yellowest is best. the _pearch_, taketh all sorts of earth-worms, especially the _lob-worm_, and _brandling_, well scowred, _bobs_, _oak-worms_, _dors_, _gentles_, _cole-wort-worms_, _wasps_, _cad-baits_, and _menow_, or a little _frog_, the hook being fastned through the skin of his leg, towards the upper part of it. be sure you give the _pearch_ time enough to pouch his bait, before you strike. the _salmon_, is taken best with _lob-worms_, scented with the oyl of ivy berries, or the oyl of _polypody_, of the _oak_ mixt with _turpentine_: or the well scowred garden-worm, is an excellent bait: the _salmon_, bites best in _may_, _june_, and _july_, at three a clock in the afternoon, if the water be clear, a little wind stirring, especially near the sea. the _tench_, is a great lover of large red worms first dipt in tar. as also all sorts of paste, made up with strong scented oyls, or tar, or a paste made up of brown bread, and honey. he will bite too at a _cad-worm_, _lob-worm_, _flag-worm_, green _gentle_, _cadbait_, _marsh-worm_, or soft boil'd _bread-grain_, &c. the _torcoth_, being before mentioned, i only let you know, that he is only found, in the pool _linperis_ in _carnarvon-shire_; and leave you to the _welchmens_ description, both of him and his bait. the _trout_, is fattest, and in his prime in _may_, and is caught with all sorts of worms, especially _brandlings_, commonly found in an old _dung-hill_, _cow-dung_, _hogs-dung_, or _tanners-bark_: also with flies, natural and artificial, with young _frogs_, _menow_, _marsh_, _dock_, or _flag-worms_; all sorts of _cadbait_, _dors_, _bobs_, _palmers_, _gentles_, _wasps_, _hornets_, &c. and with the _caterpillar_, used according to the rule before prescribed for the _grayling_. _lastly_ the _umber_, is taken as the _trout_, just now mentioned; and therefore now to your sport: to assist your well effecting which, i have but this to add; cast into your haunts where you use to fish, once in four or five days, soft boiled corn (or oftner for carp, and tench) also garbage, beasts livers, chopt worms, grains steept in blood, to attract them to the place; and to keep them together, throw in half a handful of grains or ground malt: but in a stream, cast it above your hook, that floating towards you you may draw the fish thither. _sundry curious baits for fish._ these grow on the cuccow pints, or wak-robin, and are found in dry ditches, overgrown with brambles; they are about the bigness of pease, and in _july_ and _august_, are of a lovely transparent red, and are excellent baits for roaches, and chubs; and for the first, two will serve, but for the latter, you may put four or five at a time on the hook. _oat-cakes with cheese._ beat these together into a paste, the cheese being new, and stick them together, with a little honey, letting the paste lye all night in a wet linnen cloath, then fit it up in baits, and cover your hook with it. _to keep baits for the pike, or night-hooks._ for this, take a small roach, dace, loach, minnow, smelt, small trout, or pearch, cutting off the finns on the back, or small eels well scoured in wheat-bran, which will keep them better and longer, taking a way the slime and watery substance, that causes them to rot or decay the sooner. _fishes eyes._ take out the eyes of such fish as you catch, and put three or four of them on a hook, and they will prove an excellent bait for most sorts of fish. _fat bacon._ cut this in little small long snips, and especially at snap, it is exceeding good to take a chub or pike, from the latter end of _august_ to the beginning of _april_. _the pith of the back-bone of a sheep._ take out the pith that runs through the back-bone, and take off the tough outward skin, and leave the thin tender white skin on, and bait with about half an inch of it, and it takes a chevin to admiration. _grain, wheat, malt._ bruise either of these finely, fry them in honey, make them up into pasts with oyl of peter; and either in winter or summer they take chub, roach, dace or bleak. _how to bring fish, if any in the pond or river, to the place you desire._ boyl clean barly in water till it bursts, with licorice, and a little mummy; add some honey and beat them together in a mortar into a stiff paste, and boyl about the quantity of a wall-nut of this paste with a quart of barly till it grows glutenous, and then lay it for a ground bait, and the fish will flock about it from all parts. _to make worms for baits come out of the ground._ boyl an ounce of verdigrise in a quart of strong vinegar, and sprinkle a little in places where you suspect worms are, and they will crawl out of the ground. _another approved bait._ take the fat of a heron, mummy, and galbanum; of each two drams, scent them with a grain of musk, and make them up with two ounces of _aqua-vitã¦_, stir them over a gentle fire in an earthen vessel till they become thick, and with this rub the hook, and end of the line, and the scent of it will draw the fish to it; you must also have at the same time a proper bait on your hook for such fish as are in the place you angle. _the artificial cod or cad bait._ make the body of yellow bees-wax, and head of black dubin and black silk, or you may make the body of yellow washed leather, shamey or buff, and the head all of black silk, and this is an incomparable bait for trout, salmon or smelts, and those that are natural are most excellent baits for trout, grayling, salmons, tench, roach, chub, dace, carp, tench, ruff, bream and bleak; but then you must fish with it in clear water only. _rules and considerations about baits in general._ fish in general take all such baits freely, as nature at that season affords in or near the places where you angle, for being used to them they are not afraid of any deceit, but take them as their common food. and for flies in this case, in a morning or evening, when you go to angle beat the bushes about the rivers or ponds, and such flies as you rouse there, fish with, either natural, or imitate them by art; as also see what worms or other insects fit for baits stick on the leaves, grass, or are in the water; and in this observation you cannot miss of good sport; and when you have struck gently the backway, draw a little, and be not too hasty to take up before the fish has had her play and spent her strength lest she break your tackle. if your fish be large, you must use your landing net. _to take fish in the night with a light._ this is an admirable way to supply you with a sudden dish, _viz._ take a glass in the form of a urinal very deep, put as much clay in the bottom of it as will sink the mouth of it within an inch of the water, floating on pieces of cork, tied about the neck to keep it steadily upright, then place a candle in it, by sticking it in the clay-socket, anointing the out side of the glass with oyl of asper. this light will shine a great way in a still water, so that the fish being amazed at so unusual a sight, will come out of their holes about it, and be detained with the scent of the oyl so long, that with a hoop-net you may take great store of them. _flies proper for every month._ _for february_, little red brow palmer flies, the plain hackle, the silver hackle, the gold hackle, the great dun, the great blew dun, the dark brown. _for march_, the little whirling dun, the early bright brown, the whitish dun, the thorn-tree fly, the blue dun, the little black gnat, the little bright brown. _for april_, the small bright brown, the little dark brown, the great whirling dun, the violet fly, the yellow dun, the horse-flesh-fly. _for may_, the dun-cout, the green-drake, the stone-fly, the black may fly, the little yellow may fly, the gray-drake, the camlet fly, the turkey fly, the yellow palmer, the black-flat fly, the light-brown, the little dun, the white gnat, the peacock fly, the cow-lady, the cowturd-fly. _for june_, from the first to the 24th the green drake and stone fly, the owl fly, the barn fly, the purple hackle, the purple gold hackle, the flesh fly, the little flesh fly, the peacock fly, the ant fly, the brown gnat, the little black gnat, the green-grasshopper, the dun grasshopper, the brown hackle. _for july_, the badger fly, the orange fly, the little white dun, the wasp fly, the black hackle, the shell fly, the black brown dun. _for august_. the late ant fly, the fern fly, the white hackle, the harry-long-legs. _for september_. the cammel brown fly, the late badger fly. _for october_. the same flies that were used in _march_. _the best time to angle in._ 1. if in the hot months, cloudy weather is best, when a small gale stirs the water. 2. when the floods have carryed away the fish that sudden showers incumbered the water withall, and the river and pond retains its usual bounds, looking of a whitish colour. 3. when a violent shower has troubled or muddied the river, or a little before the fish spawn, at what time they come into the sandy ground to loosen their bellies. 4. after rains, when the rivers keep their bounds, yet rise and run swiftly, for then they seek shelter in creeks and little rivulets running into the river. 5. fish for carp and tench early, that is, before sun rise, till eight in the morning, and from four in the afternoon till after sun set. in _march_, the beginning of _april_, and the latter end of _september_ and all winter, when there are no great frosts, the fish bite in the warm of the day, the wind being still; but in summer months, morning and evening is best. 6. fish rise best at the fly, after the shower has muddied or clouded the waters, and fish with flies in generally _march_, _april_, _may_, and the beginning of _june_, is the best for trout; you may angle in a clear star light night, for they are then roaving about for prey; he bites best in muddy water, and the best time of fishing for him is from 8 to 10 in the morning, and from three till five in the afternoon. 7. the salmon fishery is best in _may_, _june_, _july_, and _august_, from three in the afternoon till sun set, and in the morning as before. 8. the barble bites best early in the morning, till ten or eleven in _may_, _june_, _july_, and the beginning of _august_. 9. the pearch and ruff bites best all day in cool cloudy weather. 10. the carp and tench bite early and late in the still parts of the river; _june_, _july_, and _august_; as likewise do the chevin, whose chief bait is white snails, and small lamperies. 11. the breem bites from sun rise till nine or ten in the morning in muddy water, especially the wind blowing hard, for the most part; keeping in the middle of the pond or river in _may_, _june_, _july_, and _august_. 12. angle for the pike in clear water, when it is stirred by a gentle gale in _july_, _august_, _september_, and _october_, and then he bites best about three in the afternoon; but all the day in winter, and in _april_, _may_, and the beginning of _june_, early in the morning and late at evening. 13. the roach and dace bite all the day long at the top of the water at flies natural, and artificial, also at grass-hoppers, and all sorts of worms, if the water be shady. 14. the gudgeon bites best in _april_, till she has spawned in _may_, or if the weather be cold till wasp time, and at the end of the year all day long, near to a gentle stream. observe when you angle for her, to stir and rake the ground, and the bait will be taken the better. 15. the flounder in _april_ bites all day, _may_, _june_, and _july_, especially in swift streams, yet he will bite, tho' not so freely in a still deep. _of fish-ponds_. grounds most fit and proper to be cast into a pond, are those which are marshy, or boggy, or full of springs, unfit for grazing, or to be put to any profitable use besides. of these the last, full of springs, will yield the best water; that which is marshy will feed fish; and what is boggy is best for a defence against thieves. first draw by small trenches all the springs into one place, and so drain the rest of the ground; then mark out the head of your pond, and make it the highest part of the ground in the eye, tho' it be the lowest in a level: cut the trench of your floodgate so, that when the water is let out, it may have a swift fall: on each side of which trench drive in stakes of oak, ash or elm six foot long, and six inches square; place these in rows near four foot distance, as broad and wide from the _floodgate_ as you intend the head of your pond shall go: dig it in as big and large a compass as the ground will permit; throw your earth amongst the said stakes, and ram it down hard till you have covered the stakes: drive in as many new ones next the first stakes, and ram more earth above them, with stakes above stakes till the head-sides be of a convenient height: taking care, that the inside of your banks be smooth, even, hard and strong, that the current of the water, may not wear off the earth. having thus digged eight foot deep, that so it may carry six foot water, pave the bottom and banks of the pond with sods of _flot-grass_, laying them close together, pin them down with stakes and windings: this grass is a great feeder of fish, and grows naturally under water. stake to the bottom of one side of the pond bavens and brush-wood-faggots, into which the fish may cast their spawn. lay sods upon sods, to nourish and breed eels. the pond being made, let in water, and thus store it: put carp, bream and tench by themselves: pike, pearch, eel, and tench (the fishes physician) by themselves; for food of the greater fishes, put store of roach, dace, loach and menow; and lastly to one melter, put three spawners, and in three years the increase will be great, and in five years with difficulty be destroyed. in 3 years _sue your pond_; which you must continue to do, for the roach will increase in such abundance, that eating up the sweet food, will make other fish, as carps, &c. be very lean: therefore every year view your pond, and observe if any such fry appears, thin them. _to make_ carps _grow large_, &c. about _april_, when your pond is low rake the sides where the water is fallen with an iron rake, sow _hay-seeds_ there, rake it well; and at the end of summer you shall have store of grass: in _winter_ the water will over-top the grass, and being water enough for them, the carps will resort to the sides, and feed briskly, and grow fat: thus do every summer, till you sue your pond, and no river carp can surpass them. _finis._ how to get strong and how to stay so by william blaikie [illustration: decoration] new york harper & brothers, publishers franklin square 1883. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1879, by harper & brothers, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington. to archibald maclaren _who has probably done more than any one else now living to point out the benefits resulting from rational physical exercise, and how to attain those benefits_ this book is respectfully dedicated preface. millions of our people pass their lives in cities and towns, and at work which keeps them nearly all day in-doors. many hours are devoted for days and years, under careful teachers, and many millions of dollars are spent annually, in educating the mind and the moral nature. but the body is allowed to grow up all uneducated; indeed, often such a weak, shaky affair that it gets easily out of order, especially in middle and later life, and its owner is wholly unequal to tasks which would have proved easy to him, had he given it even a tithe of the education bestowed so generously in other directions. not a few, to be sure, have the advantage in youth of years of active out-door life on a farm, and so lay up a store of vigor which stands them in good stead throughout a lifetime. but many, and especially those born and reared in towns and cities, have had no such training, or any equivalent, and so never have the developed lungs and muscles, the strong heart and vigorous digestion--in short, the improved tone and strength in all their vital organs--which any sensible plan of body-culture, followed up daily, would have secured. it does not matter so much whether we get vigor on the farm, the deck, the tow-path, or in the gymnasium, if we only get it. fortunately, if not gotten in youth, when we are plastic and easily shaped, it may still be had, even far on in middle life, by judicious and systematic exercise, aimed first to bring up the weak and unused parts, and then by general work daily which shall maintain the equal development of the whole. the aim here has been, not to write a profound treatise on gymnastics, and point out how to eventually reach great performance in this art, but rather in a way so plain and untechnical that even any intelligent boy or girl can readily understand it, to first give the reader a nudge to take better care of his body, and so of his health, and then to point out one way to do it. that there are a hundred other ways is cheerfully conceded. if anything said here should stir up some to vigorously take hold of, and faithfully follow up, either the plan here indicated or any one of these others, it cannot fail to bring them marked benefit, and so to gratify the author. _new york, july, 1883._ contents. chap. page i. do we inherit shapely bodies? 9 ii. half-built boys 23 iii. will daily physical exercise for girls pay? 42 iv. is it too late for women to begin? 57 v. why men should exercise daily 74 vi. home gymnasiums 91 vii. the school the true place for children's physical culture 104 viii. what a gymnasium might be and do 117 ix. some results of brief systematic exercise 138 x. work for the fleshy, the thin, the old 154 xi. half-trained firemen and police 177 xii. special exercise for any given muscles 199 _a._ to develop the leg below the knee 200 _b._ work for the front of the thigh 208 _c._ to enlarge the under thigh 214 _d._ to strengthen the sides of the waist 215 _e._ the abdominal muscles 218 _f._ counterwork for the abdominal muscles 224 _g._ to enlarge and give power to the loins 227 _h._ development above the waist 228 _i._ filling out the shoulders and upper back 230 _j._ to obtain a good biceps 233 _k._ to bring up the muscles on the front and side of the shoulder 236 _l._ forearm work 237 _m._ exercises for the triceps muscles 238 _n._ to strengthen and develop the hand 241 _o._ to enlarge and strengthen the front of the chest 243 _p._ to broaden and deepen the chest itself 245 xiii. what exercise to take daily 252 _a._ daily work for children 253 _b._ daily exercise for young men 273 _c._ daily exercise for women 276 _d._ daily exercise for business men 278 _e._ daily exercise for consumptives 283 appendix i. 291 " ii. 291 " iii. 292 " iv. 292 " v. 293 " vi. 294 " vii. 295 conclusion 295 table of illustrations. fig. 1. a warped university oarsman, imperfectly developed in muscles not used in rowing 36 " 2. a warped professional sculler, imperfectly developed in muscles not used in rowing 37 " 3. horizontal bar and chest-bars, for home use 92 " 4. noiseless pulley-weights 94 " 5. appliance for developing the sides of the waist 217 " 6. a correct position for fast walking 220 " 7. device for developing the abdominal muscles 225 " 8. a chest-widener 248 " 9. a chest-deepener 250 how to get strong, and how to stay so. chapter i. do we inherit shapely bodies? probably more men walk past the corner of broadway and fulton street, in new york city, in the course of one year, than any other point in america--men of all nations and ages, heights and weights. look at them carefully as they pass, and you will see that scarcely one in ten is either erect or thoroughly well-built. some slouch their shoulders and double in at the waist; some overstep; others cant to one side; this one has one shoulder higher than the other, and that one both too high; some have heavy bodies and light legs, others the reverse; and so on, each with his own peculiarities. a thoroughly erect, well-proportioned man, easy and graceful in his movements, is far from a frequent sight. any one accustomed to athletic work, and knowing what it can do for the body, must at times have wondered why most men allowed themselves to go along for years, perhaps through life, so carrying themselves as not only to lack the outward grace and ease they might possess, and which they occasionally see in others, but so as to directly cramp and impede one or more of the vital organs. nor is it always the man's fault that he is ill-proportioned. in most cases it comes down from his progenitors. the father's walk and physical peculiarities appear in the son, often so plainly that the former's calling might almost be told from a look at the latter. a very great majority of americans are the sons either of farmers or merchants, mechanics or laborers. the work of each class soon develops peculiar characteristics. no one of the four classes has ordinarily had any training at all aimed to make him equally strong all over. broad as is the variety of the farmer's work, far the greater, and certainly the heavier, part of it tends to make him stoop forward and become inerect. no man stands up straight and mows. when he shovels, he bends more yet; and every ounce of spade or load pulls him over, till, after much of this sort of work, it requires an effort to stand upright. ploughing is better for the upper body, but it does not last long. while it keeps one walking over uneven ground, it soon brings on an awkward, clumsy step, raising, as it does, the foot unnaturally high. chopping is excellent for the upper man, but does little for his legs. in hand-raking and hoeing the man may remain erect; but in pitching and building the load, in nearly every sort of lifting, and especially the heavier sorts, as in handling heavy stone or timber, his back is always bent over. it is so much easier to slouch over when sitting on horse-rake, mower, or harvester, that most persons do it. scarcely any work on a farm makes one quick of foot. all the long day, while some of the muscles do the work, which tends to develop them, the rest are untaxed, and remain actually weak. a farmer is seldom a good walker, usually hitching up if he has an errand to go, though it be scarce a mile away; and he is rarely a good runner. he is a hearty, well-fed man, not only because wholesome food is plenty, but because his appetite is sharp, and he eats with relish and zest. naturally a man thinks that, when he eats and sleeps well, he is pretty healthy, and so he usually is; but when he is contented with this condition of things, he overlooks the fact that he is developing some parts of his body, and leaving others weak; that the warp he is encouraging in that body, by twice as much work for the muscles of his back as for those of the front of his chest, while it enlarges the former, often so as to even render it muscle-bound, actually contracts the latter, and hence gives less room for heart, lungs, stomach, and all the vital organs, than a well-built man would have. if a man should tie up one arm, and with the other steadily swing a smith's hammer all day, there is little doubt that he would soon have an excellent appetite and the sweet sleep of the laboring man. but in what shape would it leave him in a few years, or even in a few months? the work of the farmer, ill-distributed as to the whole man, leaves him as really one-sided as the former. it is in a lesser degree, of course, but still so evident that he who looks even casually may see it. while the farmer's work makes a man hearty and well, though lumbering, it takes the spring out of him. the merchant is, physically, however, in a worse position. getting to his work in boyhood, sticking to it as long as the busiest man in the establishment, his body often utterly unfit and unready for even half the strain it bears, he struggles on through the boy's duties, the clerk's, and the salesman's, till he becomes a partner; or perhaps he starts as entry-clerk, rises to be book-keeper, and then stays there. in many kinds of work he has been obliged to stand nearly all day, till his sides and waist could scarcely bear it longer, and he often breaks down under the ceaseless pressure. if his work calls him out much, he finds that the constant walking, with his mind on the stretch, and more or less worried, does not bring him that vigor he naturally looks for from so much exercise, and at night he is jaded and used up, instead of being fresh and hearty. when exceptional tension comes, and business losses or reverses make him anxious and haggard, there is little in his daily work which tends to draw him out of a situation that he could have readily and easily fitted himself to face, and weather too, had he only known how. to be sure, when he gets well on and better to do, he rides out in the late afternoon, and domestic and social recreation in the evening may tend to freshen him, and fit him for the next day's round; but, especially if he has been a strong young man, he finds that he is changed, and cannot work on as he used to do. his bodily strength and endurance are gone. the reason why is plain enough: when he was at his best, he was doing most work, and of the sort to keep him in good condition. now there is nothing between rising and bedtime to build up any such strength, and he is fortunate if he retains even half of what he had. to be sure, he does not need the strength of a stalwart young farmer; but, could he have retained it, he would have been surprised, if he had taken sufficient daily exercise to regulate himself, how valuable it would have been in toning him up for the severer work and trial of the day. if, instead of the taxed and worn-out nerves, he could have had the feeling of the man of sturdy physique, who keeps himself in condition, who does not know what it is to be nervous, what a priceless boon it would have been for him! who does not know among his friends business men whose faces show that they are nearly all the time overworked; who get thin, and stay so; who look tired, and are so; who go on dragging along through their duties--for they are men made of the stuff which does the duty as it comes up, whether hard or easy? the noon meal is rushed through, perhaps when the brain is at white-heat. more is eaten, both then and in the evening, than will digest; and good as is the after or the before dinner ride, as far as it goes, it does not go far enough to make the digestion sure. then comes broken sleep. the man waking from it is not rested, is not rebuilt and strong, and ready for the new day. with many men of this kind--and all city men know they are well-nigh innumerable--what wonder is it that nervous exhaustion is so frequent among them, and that physicians who make this disorder a specialty often have all that they can do? one of the most noted of them, dr. s. weir mitchell, of philadelphia, in his valuable little book, "wear and tear; or, hints for the overworked," page 46, says: "all classes of men who use the brain severely, and who have also--and this is important--seasons of excessive anxiety or grave responsibility, are subject to the same form of disease; and this is why, i presume, that i, as well as others who are accustomed to encounter nervous disorders, have met with numerous instances of nervous exhaustion among merchants and manufacturers. "my note-books seem to show that manufacturers and certain classes of railway officials are the most liable to suffer from neural exhaustion. next to these come merchants in general, brokers, etc.; then, less frequently, clergymen; still less often, lawyers; and, more rarely, doctors; while distressing cases are apt to occur among the over-schooled young of both sexes." and while the more active among business men run into this sort of danger, those less exposed to it still do little or nothing to give themselves sound, vigorous bodies, so as to gain consequent energy and health, and so they go through life far less efficient and useful men than they might have been. hence their sons have to suffer. the boy certainly cannot inherit from the father more vigor and stamina than the latter has, however favored the mother may have been; so, unless the boy has some sort of training which builds him up, his father's weaknesses or physical defects are very likely to show in the son. nor do most classes of mechanics fare much better. take the heavier kinds of skilled labor. the blacksmith rarely uses one of his hands as much as the other, especially in heavy work, and often has poor legs. indeed, if he has good legs, he does not get them from his calling. the stone-mason is equally one-handed--one hand merely guiding a light tool, the other swinging a heavy mallet. nine-tenths of all machinists are right-handed. and so on, through the long list of the various trades where severe muscular exertion is requisite, there is a similar uneven distribution of the work to the various parts of the body, the right arm generally getting the lion's share, the left but little, the back more than the chest--or, rather, than the front chest--and the legs having but passive sort of work at best. puddlers and boiler-makers, plumbers and carpenters, coopers and smiths, shipwrights, carriage-makers, tinners, and all who follow trades calling for vigorous muscular action, not only constantly work one side more than the other, but many of their tools are made, purposely, right-handed, so that they could hardly use them with the left hand if they wanted to. as to those whose work is more delicate, saddlers and shoe-makers, mill-hands and compositors, wood-turners, tailors, jewellers and engravers, and nearly all the lighter craftsmen, learn their trade with one hand, and would never venture to trust any of its finer work to the other. in short, take the mechanic where you will, in the vast majority of instances his right arm and side are larger and stronger than his left, and quite as often his vocation does little or nothing to strengthen and develop his legs. the fact that most of these men have active work for some of the muscles, with enough of it to insure a good appetite, combined with inherited vigor, makes them often hearty men, but it leaves them unequally developed. when they get into the gymnasium, they are usually lacking in that symmetry, ease, and erectness which they might all along have had, had they but used the means. the result, then, of overworking one part of the body at the expense of the other, especially in heavier mechanical labors, and of too little vigorous action in the lighter, tends to make the average workman more prone to disease. were there uniform development, and that daily vigorous exercise which would stimulate the dormant parts of the man's body, it would add to his life and usefulness. but how is it with the sturdy laborer? he can hardly be liable to the same defects. his work certainly must call into play every muscle of his body. well, watch him awhile and see. try the coal-heaver. his surely is heavy, hard work, and must make him exert himself all over. but does it? while it keeps his knees steadily bent, his back is all the while over his work. the tons of coal he lifts daily with his shovel gradually, but with positive certainty, insures his back remaining somewhat bent when his work for the time is done. when a year is spent at such labor, the back must take a lasting curve. while his back broadens, growing thick and powerful, his chest does not get so much to do; hence he is soon a round-shouldered man. as he does not hold his chest out, nor his neck and head erect, he contracts his lung-room, as well, indeed, as his general vital-room. scarce any man grows earlier muscle-bound, for few backs do so much hard work. now, standing erect, let him try and slap the backs of his hands together behind his shoulders, keeping his arms horizontal and straight at the elbow. now he will understand what is meant by being muscle-bound. it will be odd if he can get his hands within a foot of each other. the navvy is no better. the gardener's helper has to do much stooping. so do track-hands, stone-breakers, truckmen, porters, longshoremen, and all the rest. especially are ordinary day-laborers, whose tools are spade, pick, and bar, who are careless about their skin, who are exposed to dust and dirt, who are coarsely shod, most prone to have bad feet. they, too, have the hearty appetite and the sound sleep. seldom do they give their bodily improvement a thought, and so often, like their own teeth, they decay before their time, and materially shorten their usefulness and their days. here, then, we see that the vast majority of men in this country--three out of four at least--are born of fathers but partially developed, and uniformly of inerect carriage. and how is it with their mothers? naturally they come, to a large extent, from the same classes. they inherit many of the characteristics of their fathers--size, color, temperament, and so on, and generally the same tendency to be stronger on one side than on the other. in the poorer classes their life is one of work, frequently of overwork and drudgery, and in ill-lighted, ill-ventilated apartments. among those better off, they do not work enough, and often, though of vigorous parents, are not themselves strong. thoroughly healthy, hearty women are not common among us. ask the family physician, and he will endorse this statement to an extent most men would not have supposed. american women are not good walkers. look how they are astonished when they hear of some lady who walks from five to ten miles a day, and thinks nothing of it. one such effort would be positively dangerous to very many, indeed probably to the majority of our women, while nearly all of them would not get over its effects for several days. yet many english and canadian ladies take that much exercise daily from choice, and, finding the exhilaration, strength, and health it brings, and the general feeling of efficiency which it produces, would not give it up. no regular exercise is common among the great majority of the women of this country which makes them use both their hands alike, and is yet vigorous enough to add to the size and strength of their shoulders, chests, and arms. ordinary house-work brings the hands of those who indulge in it a good deal to do, even though the washing and ironing are left to hired help. the care of children adds materially to the exertion called for in a day. but far too often both the house-work and the looking after the children are sources of great exertion. were the woman strong and full of vigor, she would turn each off lightly, and still be fresh and hearty at the end of the day. with the father, as with the mother, the conclusion arrived at seems to be as follows: now that the day's work is done, no matter whether it brings with it strength or weakness, let us be perfectly contented with things as they are. if it makes us one-handed, so be it. if it stoops the back over, so be it. if it does little or nothing for the lower limbs, or cramps the chest, or never half fills the lungs, or aids digestion not a whit, so be it. if it keeps some persons thin and tired-looking, and does not prevent others from growing too fleshy, it never occurs to most of them that a very small amount of knowledge and effort in the right direction would work wonders, and in a way which would be not only valuable but attractive. most of us get, then, from our parents a one-sided and partial development, and are contented with it. unless we ourselves take steps to better our condition, unless we single out the weak spots, prescribe the work and the amount of it, and then do that work, we shall not remedy the evil. more than this, if we do not cure these defects, we will not only go through life with limited and cramped physical resources, with their accompanying disorders and ailments, but we will cruelly entail on our children defects and tendencies which might have readily been spared them, and for which they can fairly blame us. a little attention to the subject will show that the remedy is quite within our reach; and so plain is this, that a generation later, if the interest now awakening in this direction becomes, as it promises to, very general among us, our descendants will understand far better than we do that the body can be educated, as well as the mind or the moral nature; that, instead of interfering with the workings of these, the body will, when properly trained, directly and materially aid them; and, further, that there is no stand-point from which the matter can be viewed which will not show that such training will pay, and most handsomely at that. chapter ii. half-built boys. but, whatever our inherited lacks and strong points, few who have looked into the matter can have failed to notice that the popular sports and pastimes, both of our boyhood and youth, good as they are, as far as they go, are not in themselves vigorous enough, or well enough chosen to remedy the lack. the top, the marble, and the jack-knife of the boy are wielded with one hand, and for all the strength that wielding brings, it might as well have been confined to one. flying kites is not likely to overdo the muscles. yet top-time, marble-time, and kite-time generally cover all the available play hours of each day for a large portion of the year. but he has more vigorous work than these bring. well, what? why, ball-playing and playing tag, and foot-ball, and skating, and coasting, and some croquet, and occasional archery, while he is a painfully accurate shot with a bean-shooter. well, in ball-playing he learns to pitch, to catch, to bat, to field, and to run bases. how many boys can pitch with either hand? not one in a hundred, at least well enough to be of any use in a game. observe the pitching arm and shoulder of some famous pitcher, and see how much larger they are than their mates. dr. sargent, for many years instructor in physical culture in yale college, says that he has seen a well-known pitcher whose right shoulder was some two inches larger than the left; indeed, his whole right side seemed out of proportion with his left. the catcher draws both hands in toward him as the ball enters them, and passes it back to the pitcher almost always with the same hand. he has, in addition, to spring about on his feet, unless the balls come very uniformly, and to do much twisting and turning. the batter bats, not from either shoulder, but from one shoulder, to such an extent that those used to his batting know pretty well where he will knock the ball, though, did he bat from the other shoulder, the general direction of the knocking would be quite different. some of the fielders have considerable running and some catching to do, and then to throw the ball in to pitcher, or baseman, or catcher. but that throw is always with the stronger hand, never with the other. many of the fielders often have not one solitary thing to do but to walk to their stations, remain there while their side is out, and then walk back again, hardly getting work enough, in a cold day, to keep them warm. running bases is sharp, jerky work, and a wretched substitute for steady, sensible running over a long distance. nor is the fielder's running much better; and neither would ever teach a boy what he ought to know about distributing his strength in running, and how to get out of it what he readily might, and, more important yet, how to make himself an enduring long-distance runner. for all the work the former brings, ordinary, and even less than ordinary, strength of leg and lung will suffice, but for the latter it needs both good legs and good lungs. run most american boys of twelve or fourteen six or eight miles, or, rather, start them at it--let them all belong to the ball-nine if you will, too--and how many would cover half the distance, even at any pace worth calling a run? the english are, and have long been, ahead of us in this direction. to most readers the above distance seems far too long to let any boy of that age run. but, had he been always used to running--not fast, but steady running--it would not seem so. tom brown of rugby, in the hares-and-hounds game, of which he gives us so graphic an account, makes both the hares and hounds cover a distance of nine miles without being much the worse for it, and yet they were simply school-boys, of all ages from twelve to eighteen. let him who thinks that the average american boy of the same age would have fared as well, go down to the public bath-house, and look carefully at a hundred or two of them as they tumble about in the water. he will see more big heads and slim necks, more poor legs and skinny arms, and lanky, half-built bodies than he would have ever imagined the whole neighborhood could produce. or he need not see them stripped. one of our leading metropolitan journals, in an editorial recently, headed, "give the boy a chance," said: "about one in ten of all the boys in the union are living in new york and the large cities immediately adjacent; and there are even more within the limits of philadelphia, boston, chicago, and the other american cities whose population exceeds a hundred thousand. the wits of these millions of boys are being forced to their extreme capacity, whether they are taught in the school, the shop, or the street. but what is being done for their bodies? the answer may be obtained by standing at the door of almost any public or private school or academy at the hour of dismissal. _the inquirer will see a crowd of undersized, listless, thin-faced children, with scarcely any promise of manhood about them._" take a tape-measure and get the girth of chest, upper and forearm, of waist, hips, thighs, and calves of these little fellows, likewise their heights and ages. now send to england and get the statistics of the boys of the same age who are good at hares-and-hounds, at foot-ball, and see the difference. in every solitary measurement, save height, there is little doubt which would show the better figures. even in height, it is more than probable that the article just quoted would find abundant foundation for calling our boys "undersized." next cross to germany, and go to the schools where boys and their masters together, in vacation days, sometimes walk two or even three hundred miles, in that land where the far-famed german turners, by long training, show a strength and agility combined which are astounding, and try the tape-measure there. is there any question what the result would be? when the sweeping work the germans made of it in their late war with france is called to mind, does it not look as if there was good ground for the assumption so freely made, that it was the superior physique of the germans which did the business? where work is chosen that only sturdy limbs can do, and that work is gradually approached, and persistently stuck to, by-and-by the sturdy limbs come. but when all that these limbs are called on to do is light, spasmodic work, and there is none of the spur which youthful emulation and pride in superior strength bring, what wonder is it if the result is a weakly article? another and natural consequence many parents must have noticed. often, in a city neighborhood, there is not one strong, efficient boy to lead on the rest, and show them the development which they might have and should have. boys, like men, are fond of doing whatever they can do well, and of letting others see them do it, and, like their elders, they gladly follow a capable and self-reliant leader. but if no one of their number is equal to tasks which call for first-class strength and staying powers, when no one will lead the rest up to a higher physical plane, they never will get there. it is not a good sign, or one that bodes well for our future, to see the play-grounds of our cities and towns so much neglected. you may stand on many of them for weeks together and not see one sharp, hot game of ball, or of anything else, where each contestant goes in with might and main, and the spectator becomes so interested as to hate to leave the fun. foot-ball is a game as yet not at all general among us. excellent is it for developing intrepidity and other manly qualities. the duke of wellington is reported to have said that her foot-ball fields were where england's soldiers were made. the short, hasty school recess in the crowded school-yard, or play snatched in the streets--these will never make robust and vigorous men. yet these are too often all that our boys get, their cramped facilities for amusement soon bringing their natural result in small vital organs and half-developed limbs. many of our large cities are wretchedly off for play-grounds. such open spaces as we have are fenced around, and have signs nailed all over them saying, "keep off the grass!" at the same time forbidding games on the paths. one part of boston common used to be a famous play-ground; and many hard-fought battles has it seen at foot-ball, base-ball, hockey, and cricket. many an active school-boy there has more than once temporarily bit the dust. but now rows of street lamps run through that part of the common, and the precious grass must be protected at all hazards. new york city is scarcely better off. central park, miles away from the great majority of the boys in the city, is elegant enough when they get to it; but let them once set their bounds and start a game of ball, or hares-and-hounds, or try a little jumping or running, on any one of those hundreds of beautiful acres, save in one solitary field, and see how soon the gray-coats will be upon them. the battery, city hall park, washington square, union park, stuyvesant square, and madison square are well located, and would make capital play-grounds, but the grass there is altogether too well combed to be ruffled by unruly boys. if a boy's cousin comes in from the country, and he wishes to try conclusions with him, he must confine his efforts to the flagged sidewalk or the cobble-stoned street, while a brass-buttoned referee is likely at any moment to interfere, and take them both into custody for disorderly conduct. again, outside of a boy's ball-playing, scarce one of his other pastimes does much to build him up. swimming is excellent, but is confined to a very few months in the year, and is seldom gone at, as it should be, with any regularity, or with a competent teacher to gradually lead the boy on to its higher possibilities. skating is equally desultory, because in many of our cities winters pass with scarcely a week of good ice. coasting brings some up-hill walking, good for the legs, but does practically nothing for the arms. so boyhood slips along until the lad is well on in his teens, and still, in nine cases out of ten, he has had nothing yet of any account in the way of that systematic, vigorous, daily exercise which looks directly to his weak points, and aims not only to eradicate them, but to build up his general health and strength as well. he gets no help in the one place of all where he might so easily get it--the school. so far as we can learn, no system of exercise has been introduced into any school or college in this land, unless it is at the military academy at west point, which begins to do for each pupil, not alone what might easily be done, but what actually _ought_ to be done. it will probably not be many years before all of us will wonder why the proper steps in this direction have been put off so long. calisthenics are here and there resorted to. in some schools a rubber strap has been introduced, the pupil taking one end of it in each hand, and working it in a few different directions, but in a mild sort of way. at amherst college enough has been accomplished to tell favorably on the present health of the student, but not nearly enough to make him strong and vigorous all over, so as to build him up against ill health in the future. at another college certain exercises, excellent in their way, admirable for suppling the joints and improving the carriage, have for some time been practised. but this physical work does not go nearly far enough, nor is it aimed sufficiently at each pupil's peculiar weak spot. it also neither reaches all the students, nor is it practised but a small part of the year. in the great majority of our schools and colleges, little or no idea is given the pupil as to the good results he will derive from exercise. the teacher's own experience in physical development is often more limited than that of some of his scholars. the evil does not end here. take the son of the man of means and refinement, a boy who is having given him as liberal an education as money can buy and his parents' best judgment can select, one who spends a third or more of his life in fitting himself to get on successfully in the remainder of it. that boy certainly ought to come out ready for his life's work, with not only a thoroughly-trained mind and a strong moral nature, but with a well-developed, vigorous physique, and a knowledge of how to maintain it, so that he may make the most of all his advantages. but how often does this happen? stand by the gate as the senior class of almost any college in this country files out from its last examination before graduation, and look the men carefully over. ask your physician to join you in the scrutiny. if, between you two, you can arrive at the conclusion that one-half, or even one-third of them, have that vitality and stamina which make it probable that they will live till seventy, it will be indeed most surprising. a few of these young men, the athletes, will be well-developed, better really than they need be. but this over-development may be far from the safest or wisest course. even though physically improved by it, it is not certain that this marked development will carry them onward through life to a ripe old age. but, with others indifferently developed, there will be many more positively weak. such men may have bright, uncommon heads. yes; but a bright and uncommon head on a broken down, or nearly broken down, body is not going to make half as effective a man in the life-race as a little duller head and a good deal better body. but have these graduates had a competent instructor at college to look after them in this respect? will some one name a college where they have such an instructor? or a school where, instead of building the pupil up for the future, more has been done than to insure his present health? one or two such there may be, but scarcely more than one or two. take even the student who has devoted the most time to severe muscular exercise--the rowing-man, not the beginner, but the veteran of a score or more of races, who has been rowing all his four college years as regularly and almost as often as he dined. certainly it will not be claimed that his is not a well-developed body, or that his permanent health is not insured. let us look a little at him and see. what has he done? he entered college at eighteen, and is the son, say, of a journalist or of a professional man. finding, when he came to be fourteen or fifteen, that he was not strong, that somehow he did not fill out his clothes, he put in daily an hour or more at the gymnasium, walked much at intervals, took sparring lessons, did some rowing, and perhaps, by the time he entered college, got his upper arm to be a foot or even thirteen inches in circumference, with considerable muscle on his chest. now this young man hears daily, almost hourly, of the wonderful freshman crew--an embryotic affair as yet, to be sure, but of exalted expectations--and into that crew he must go at all hazards. he is tried and accepted. now, for four years, if a faithful oar, he will row all of a thousand miles a year. as each year has, off and on, not over two hundred rowing-days in all, he will generally, for the greater part of the remaining time, pull nearly an equivalent daily at the rowing-weights. he will find a lot of eager fellows at his side, working their utmost to outdo him, and get that place in the boat which he so earnestly covets, and which he is not yet quite sure that he can hold. some of his muscles are developing fast. his recitations are, perhaps, suffering a little, but never mind that just now, when he thinks that there is more important work on hand. the young fellow's appetite is ravenous. he never felt so hearty in his life, and is often told how well he is looking. he attracts attention because likely to be a representative man. he never filled out his clothes as he does now. his legs are improving noticeably. they ought to do so, for it is not one or two miles, but three or four, which he runs on almost every one of those days in the hundred in which he is not rowing. our young athlete has not always gone into the work from mere choice. for instance, one of a recent harvard freshman crew told the writer that he had broken down his eyes from over-use of them, and, looking about for some vigorous physical exercise which would tone him up quickly and restore his eyesight, and having no one to consult, he had taken to rowing. the years roll by till the whole four are over, and our student is about to graduate. he looks back to see what he has accomplished. in physical matters he finds that, while he is a skilful, and perhaps a decidedly successful, oar, and that some of his measurements have much improved since the day he was first measured, others somehow have not come up nearly as fast, in fact, have held back in the most surprising way. his chest-girth may be three or even four inches larger for the four years' work. some, if not much, of that is certainly the result of growth, not development, and, save what running did, the rest is rather an increase of the back muscles than of front and back alike. strong as his back is--for many a hard test has it stood in the long, hot home-minutes of more than one well-fought race--still he has not yet a thoroughly developed and capacious chest. doubtless his legs have improved, if he has done any running. (in some colleges the rowing-men scarcely run at all.) his calves have come to be well-developed and shapely, and so too have his thighs, while his loins are noticeably strong-looking and well muscled up, and so indeed is his whole back. but if he has done practically no other arm-work than that which rowing and the preparation for it called for, his arms are not so large, especially above the elbow, as they ought to be for a man with such legs and such a back. the front of his chest is not nearly so well developed as his back, perhaps is hardly developed at all, and he is very likely to carry himself inerectly, with head and neck canted somewhat forward, while there is a lack of fulness, often a noticeable hollowness, of the upper chest, till the shoulders are plainly warped and rounded forward. [illustration: fig. 1. a warped university oarsman, imperfectly developed in muscles not used in rowing.] [illustration: fig. 2. a warped professional sculler, imperfectly developed in muscles not used in rowing.] with professional oarsmen, who for years have rowed far more than they have done anything else, and who have no especial care for their looks, or spur to develop harmoniously, the defects rowing leaves stand out most glaringly. notice in the cuts on pp. 36, 37 (figs. 1 and 2) the flat and slab-sided, almost hollow, look about the upper chest and front shoulder, and compare these with the full and well-rounded make of the figure whose body is sketched on the cover. it will not take long to determine which has the better front chest, or which is likely to so carry that chest as to ward off tendencies to throat and lung troubles. yet fig. 1 is from a photograph of one of the most distinguished student-oarsmen america ever produced, while fig. 2 represents one of the swiftest and most skilful professional scullers of the country to-day.[a] better proof could not be presented of the effect of a great amount of rowing, and of the very limited exercise it brings to those muscles which are not especially called on. after the student's rowing is over, and his college days are past, and he settles down to work with not nearly so much play in it, how does he find that his rowing pays? has it made him fitter than his fellows, who went into athletics with no such zeal and devotion, to stand life's wear and tear, especially when that life is to be spent mainly in-doors? when, in later years, with new associations, business cares, and long, hard head-work, accompanied, as the latter usually is, by only partial inflation of the lungs, when all these get him out of the way of using his large back muscles, he will find their very size, and the long spell of warping forward which so much rowing gave the shoulders, tends more to weigh him forward than if he had never so developed them. instead of benefiting his throat and lungs, this abnormal development actually inclines to cramp them. here, then, is the case of a man who voluntarily gave much time, thought, and labor to the severest test of his strength, and who had hoped to bring about staying powers, and he comes out of it all, to begin his real race in life, often no better fitted, perhaps not nearly so well fitted, for it as some of his comrades who did not spare half so much time to athletics. the other men, who did not work nearly as much as he did, still managed to hit upon a sort which, instead of cramping their chests, expanded them, enlarging the lung-room, and so gave the heart, stomach, and other vital organs all the freest play. if the ordinary play and exercise of the boy do not build and round him into a sound, well-made, and evenly-balanced man; if the hardest work he has hit on, when left to himself to find out, mostly to be paid for by a considerable amount of money; if these only leave him a half-developed man, can it not be seen at once that an improvement is wanted in his physical education? are we not behindhand, and far behindhand, then, in a matter of serious importance to the well-being of the people of our country? do we not want some system of education which shall rear men, not morally and intellectually good alone, but good physically as well? which shall qualify them both to seize and to make the most of the advantages which years of toil and struggle bring, but which advantages among us now are too frequently thrown away. men too often, just as they are about clutching these benefits, find, tantalus-like, that they are eluding their grasp. the reason must be plain to all. it is because that grasp is weakening, and falls powerless at the very time when it could be and should be surest, and potent for the most good. footnotes: [a] the faces of both men have, of course, been disguised. chapter iii. will daily physical exercise for girls pay? observe 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 blooming, shapely, and strong. some are one or the other, but very few are all combined, while a decided majority are neither one of them. instead of high chests, plump arms; comely figures, and a graceful and handsome mien, you constantly see flat chests, angular shoulders, often round and warped forward, with scrawny necks, pipe-stem arms, narrow backs, and a weak walk. not one girl in a dozen is thoroughly erect, whether walking, standing, or sitting. nearly every head is pitched somewhat forward. the arms are frequently held almost motionless, and there is a general lack of spring and elasticity in their movements. fresh, blooming complexions are so rare as to attract attention. 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 these 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 in the party has the swift, graceful, gliding motion she might so readily acquire. not one can run any respectable distance at a good pace. there is abundant vivacity and spirit, abundant willingness to play with great freedom, but very little such play as there might be, and which would pay so well. most of their exercise worth calling vigorous is for their feet alone, the hands seldom having much to do. the girls of the most favored classes are generally the poorest players. the quality and color of their clothing necessitates their avoiding all active, hearty play, while it is the constant effort of nurse or governess to repress that superabundance 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's terribly bad for the arms, keeping them poor, indifferent specimens, 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 suggest a large amount of work for one day, certainly for one evening, and the impression received is that she is overworked, while the truth frequently 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 required of her. her studying is done quietly at home, undisturbed, usually, by any such cares and responsibilities as the man encounters. hers is generally brain-work, not brain-worry. yet the few hours a day exhaust her, because her vital system, which supports her brain, is feeble and inefficient. no girl is at school over six hours out of the twenty-four, and, deducting the time taken for recitation, recess, and the various 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 practically her own, there is ample time for all the vigorous physical exercise she needs or could take, and yet allow ten, or even twelve, of those hours for sleep or eating. but notice, in any of these off-hours, what exercise these girls take. they walk to and fro from school, they play a few minutes at recess, they may take an occasional irregular stroll besides, and may indulge in a game of croquet, 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, abrupt run, the walk to or from school, the afternoon stroll, or the miscellaneous 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 readily accomplish without serious effort, and, going through them for years, she would need little more strength than she had at first. but all this time her mental work comes in no meagre allowance. _it_ is all the time pushing forward. subjects are set before her, to grasp and master which requires every day hours of close application for months together. the number of them is also enlarging, and the task is constantly becoming more severe. a variety of influences spurs her steadily onward. maybe it is emulation and determination which urges her on, 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 resolves to remain with her present one at all hazards. but with all this there is an advance in the amount and difficulty of the brain-work. no distinction is made between the delicate girl and the strong one. to those of a like age come like tasks. the delicate girl, from her indifference to physical effort, finding that for the time her weakness of body does not interfere with a ready-working brain, gradually inclines to draw 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 partial weakness, or too often general debility? is it at all a rare thing, in the observation of any one, to notice that this weakness, this debility, are very apt to become chronic, and that the woman, later on in life, is 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 called 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 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 equally plain that there can be an almost incalculable 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 persons familiar with 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 respects identical. begin to give the muscles of the hand and forearm, for instance, as vigorous and assiduous use as these mathematical 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 familiar with her work as the mathematical instructor is with 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? if protracted several hours, or the greater part of each day, as with the german peasant-woman in the field, or the scotch fish-woman with her wares, no doubt it would. but if maclaren of oxford wanted but a little while each day to increase the girth of the chests of a dozen british soldiers three inches apiece in four months, is this very moderate allowance likely to work much mental dulness? did charles dickens's seven to twelve miles afoot daily interfere with some masterly work which his pen produced each day? did napoleon's whole days spent in the saddle tell very seriously on his mental operations, and prevent him from conceiving and carrying out military and strategic work which will compare favorably with any the world's history tells of? and what if this daily exercise, beside the bodily benefit and improvement which ensues, 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 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 eradicate special weaknesses and defects, and then create and maintain the symmetry of the pupils, increasing their bodily vigor and strength up to maturity. if several, or a majority, 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, wholly lacking _la ligne_ of dumas, 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 inculcate 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 bearing 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, undoubtedly it would. 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, is best adapted to each pupil; then the daily maintaining 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 mediã¦val 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. a most apt and excellent case in point was mentioned in the _new york tribune_ of june 19th, 1878. 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_." suppose mr. durant at wellesley, or mr. caldwell at vassar, should at once introduce in their deservedly famous schools 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. suppose that all the girls could be made to consider this daily lesson as much a matter of course in their studies as anything else. suppose, 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. if such a master or mistress can be found, 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 as the manly young fellows at the academy across the river, but a few miles distant? 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. mammas 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, 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 would be greatly enhanced through all her life as well. chapter iv. is it too late for women to begin? but if the school-days are past and the girl has become a woman, what then? if the girl, trammelled by few duties outside of school-hours, has found amusement for herself, yet still needs daily and regular exercise to make and keep her fresh and hearty, much more does the woman, especially in a country like our own, where physical exercise for her sex is almost unknown, require such exercise. our women are born of parents who pride themselves on their mental qualifications, on a good degree of intelligence. our educational system is one which offers an endless variety of spurs to continued mental effort. are not the majority of our women to-day, especially in town and city, physically weak? the writers on nervous disorders speak of the astounding increase of such diseases among us, of late years, in both sexes, but especially among the women. general debility is heard of nowadays almost as often as general grant. most of our women think two miles, or even less, a long distance to walk, even at a dawdling pace, while few of them have really strong chests, backs, or arms. (if they wish to test their arms, for instance, let them grasp a bar or the rung of a ladder, and try to pull themselves up once till the chin touches. not two in fifty will do it, but almost any boy can.) hardly a day goes by when a woman's strength is not considerably taxed, and often overtaxed. there is no calling of the unmarried woman where vigorous health and strength--not great or herculean, but simply such as every well-built and well-developed woman ought to have--would not be of great, almost priceless value to her. the shop-girl, the factory operative, the clerk in the store, the book-keeper, the seamstress, the milliner, the telegraph operator, are all confined, for many hours a day, with exercise for but a few of the muscles, and with the trunk held altogether too long in one position, and that too often a contracted and unhealthy one. actually nothing is done to render the body lithe and supple, to develop the idle muscles, to deepen the breathing and quicken the circulation--in short, to tone up the whole system. no wonder such a day's work, and such a way of living, leaves the body tired and exhausted. it would, before long, do the same for the strongest man. no wonder that the walk to and from work is a listless affair. no wonder that, later on, special or general weakness develops, and the woman goes through life either weak and delicate, or with not half the strength and vigor which might readily be hers. and is it any better with the married woman? take one of limited means. much of the work about her home which servants might do, could she employ them, she bravely does herself, willing to make ten times this sacrifice, if need be, for those dearest to her. follow her throughout the day, especially where there are children: there is an almost endless round of duties, many of them not laborious, to be sure, or calling for much muscular strength, but keeping the mind under a strain until they are done, difficult to encompass because difficult to foresee. in the aggregate they are almost numberless. a man can usually tell in the morning most of what is in front of him for the day--indeed, can often plan so as to say beforehand just what he will be at each hour. but not so the housewife and mother of young children. she is constantly called to perform little duties, both expected and unexpected, which cannot fail to tell on a person not strong. a healthy child a year old will often weigh twenty pounds; yet a woman otherwise weak will carry that child on her left arm several times a day up one or more flights of stairs, till you would think she would drop from exhaustion. let sickness come, and she will often seem almost tireless, so devotedly will she keep the child in her arms. while children are, of course, carried less when they begin to walk, many a child two, or even three years old, is picked up by the mother, not a few times a day, even though he weighs thirty or forty pounds instead of twenty. now for this mother to have handled a dumb-bell of that weight would have been thought foolish and dangerous, for nothing about her suggested strength equal to that performance. and yet the devotion of a weak mother to her child is quite as great as that of a strong one. is it any wonder that this overdoing of muscles never trained to such work must sooner or later tell? it would be wonderful if it did not. yet now, suppose that same mother had from early childhood been trained to systematic physical exercise suited to her strength, and increasing with that strength until, from a strong and healthy child, she grew to be a hearty, vigorous woman, well developed, strong, and comely--what now would she mind carrying the little tot on her arm? what before soon became heavy and a burden--a willing burden though it was--now never seems so at all, and really is no task for such muscles as she now has. instead of her day's work breaking her down, it is no more than a woman of her vigor needs--indeed, not so much as she needs--to keep her well and strong. and, besides escaping the bodily tire and exhaustion, look at the happiness it brings her in the exhilaration which comes with ruddy health, in the feeling of being easily equal to whatever comes up, in being a stranger to indigestion, to nervousness and all its kindred ailments. this vital force, sparing her many of the doubts and fears so common to the weak, but which the strong seldom know, enables her to endure patiently privation, watching, and bereavement. and who is the more likely to live to a ripe old age, the woman who never took suitable and adequate exercise to give her even moderate vitality and strength, or she who, by a judicious and sensible system, suited to her particular needs, has developed such powers? but, while this is all well enough for young girls, is it not too late for full-grown women to attempt to get the same benefits? the girl was young and plastic, and, with proper care, could be moulded in almost any way; but the woman already has her make and set, and these cannot readily be changed. perhaps not quite so readily, but actual trial will show that the difficulty is largely imaginary. to many, indeed to most women, the idea is absolutely new, and they never supposed such change possible. bryant, beginning at forty, made exercise pay wonderfully. bear in mind how, with a few minutes a day, maclaren enlarged and strengthened men thirty years old; that, out of his class of over a hundred, the greatest gain was in the oldest man in it, and he was thirty-five. let us look at what one or two women have managed to effect by systematic and thorough bodily training. in "the coming man" charles reade says (p. 50), "nathalie, a french gymnast, and not a woman of extraordinary build, can take two fifty-six-pound weights from the ground, one in each hand, and put them slowly above her head." she has "a sister who goes up the slack-rope. farini saw her pitted against twenty sailors. the sailors had a slack-rope; she had another. a sailor went up as far as he could; the gymnast went as high on her rope at the same time. sailor came down tired, the lady fresh. another sailor went up, the lady ditto; and so on. _she wore out the whole twenty, having gone up an aggregate of feet higher than st. peter's church at rome._ this feat is due to great strength, complete either-handedness, and the athlete's power of pinching a rope with the sinews of the lower limbs." but is this great and unusual strength, especially of the arms, desirable in most women? not at all; but that is not the point. when farini says that the first step toward making one a skilled gymnast or acrobat is to bring up the weak arm, and shoulder, and side--usually the left--until equally strong with its, till now, superior mate, and that he is constantly doing that, he is doing more by far than would be needed to make most women, not as strong as acrobats and performers, but--a far more important matter--reasonably and comfortably so, sufficiently to keep nervous disorders away, to enable them to be far better equal to the daily duties, and to spend life with an appreciation and zest too often unknown by the weak woman; finally, to preserve for a woman the bloom and healthy look which once in a while she sees, even in a woman of advanced years, and which would be her own did she use the means to have it. and what should a woman do to get this health and strength and bloom? just what is done by the young girl. indeed, there are a hundred exercises, almost any of which, faithfully followed up, would help directly to bring the desired result. with her, as with girl or man or boy, the first thing is to symmetrize, to bring up the weaker muscles by special effort, calling them at once into vigorous action, and to restore to its proper position the shoulder, back, or chest, which has been so long allowed to remain out of place. the symmetry once gained, then equal work for all the muscles, taken daily, and in such quantities as are found to suit best. the variety of exercises open to woman, especially out-of-doors, is almost as great as to man. every one knows some graceful horsewoman, and it is a pity there were not a hundred where there is one. one of the most expert of our acquaintance is the mother of one of the most gifted metaphysicians in the land, and he already is a middle-aged man. there are a few ladies in this country, and a good many in england, who think nothing of a five or six mile walk daily, and an occasional one of twice that length. once in a while a married woman here will do some long-distance skating. in holland, in the season, it is with many an every-day affair. some of the best swimmers and floaters at the watering-places are women, and they certainly do not look much troubled with nervousness. more than one woman has distinguished herself in alpine climbing. the writer once saw a woman, apparently about twenty-eight, a handsome, vigorous, rosy englishwoman, row her father from putney to mortlake, on the thames, a distance of four miles and three furlongs, not at racing pace, to be sure, but at a lively speed. the measured precision of that lady's stroke, the stately poise of the body and head, and the clean, neat, and effective feathering, would have done credit to an old oxford oar. what woman has done, woman may do. bind one arm in a sling, and keep it utterly idle for a month, and meanwhile ply the other busily with heavy work, such as swinging a hammer, axe, or dumb-bell, and is it hard to say which will be the healthier, the plumper, the stronger--the _live_ arm, at the end of the month? and will this only apply to men's arms, and not to women's? who has usually the stronger, and almost generally the shapelier arm--the woman who, surrounded with servants, takes her royal ease, and has american notions and ways of exercise, or the busy maid in her kitchen? if the latter's arm is large, yet not well-proportioned, it simply means that some of its muscles have been used far more than the others. now, to her who understands what exercises will develop each of the muscles of that arm, and who can tell at sight which are fully developed or developed at all, and which are not, it is easy to bring up the backward ones, and so secure the symmetry and the consequent general strength. the same rule holds good of all the other muscles, as well as those of the arm. plenty of active out-door work will go far toward securing health. but it will only develop the parts brought into play, and there ought to be exercise for all. now what daily work, and how much of it, will secure this symmetry, erectness, and strength, supposing that, at the outset, there is no organic defect, but that the woman is simply weak both in her muscular and in her vital systems? in the first place, let it be understood that the connection between these systems is intimate, and that the judicious building and strengthening of the former, and the keeping up that strength by sensible daily exercise, tells directly on the latter. vigorous muscular exercise, properly taken, enlarges the respiration, quickens the circulation, improves the digestion, the working, in fact, of all the vital parts. dr. mitchell says it is the very thing also to quiet the excited nerves and brain. the amount of that exercise daily depends on the present strength of the woman. if she is weak generally, for the first fortnight the exercise, while general enough to bring all the muscles into play, must be light and easy. then, as a little strength is gained, the work advances accordingly. if partially strong at first, invariably the first thing to do is to adapt the exercise mainly to the weaker muscles till they catch up. suppose the right arm is stronger than the left, as frequently happens, because it has had more to do. for the first month--or, if necessary, for the first two months--let the left arm have nearly all the exercise, and that exercise as vigorous as it can comfortably take. then, when it is found that it can lift or carry as heavy a weight, and pull or push as hard as the right, keep at it, by means of exercise, until both arms can do the same amount of work, and are equal. but suppose the arms are already equally strong, or, rather, equally weak--that both the back and chest are small; that is, not so large or well-proportioned as they should be in a well-built woman of a certain height--then all that is necessary is to select work especially adapted to strengthen the back, and other work telling directly on the chest. for the first fortnight very mild efforts should be made, and the advance should be gradual, taking great care never once to overdo it. let the advance be made as the newly-acquired strength justifies and encourages it. what particular exercises will effect the strengthening and development of any given muscles will be pointed out in the chapter on special exercise, at the latter part of this book. how about the length of time this daily exercising will take? it is all easy enough for the rich, whose time is their own, and who could spare four or five hours a day if necessary; but how is the woman to manage it who must work from seven to six, or even far into the evening as well? she can hardly get time to read about horseback riding and alpine climbing, much less take part in them. well, it is a poor system which cannot suit nearly all cases. the woman who works steadily from early morning till well into the night, especially at employment at all sedentary and confining, is undergoing a test and a hardship which will certainly call for a strong constitution, good condition, and a brave spirit as well, or the strain will surely break her down, and bring to her permanent weakness. if so many hours must be spent in labor, then let her secure ten or fifteen minutes, upon rising, for a series of exercises in her room. at the dinner-hour, again at supper-time, and once about mid-morning, and again at mid-afternoon, three or five minutes could generally be spared for a few brisk exercises calculated to limber and call into vigorous action the back, and many of the muscles so long held almost motionless until they stiffen from it. if there is a whole hour at dinner-time, and half of it could be spent in walking, if possible with a cheerful and energetic companion, who would make her forget the dull routine of her day--not dawdling, aimless walking, but stepping out as if she meant it, with a spring and energy which quickens the pulse, driving the morning's thoughts out of the mind, scattering low spirits to the winds--it would bring a pleasant feeling of recreation and change. the benefit to be derived from such a walk would be immediate and marked. is this asking much? a mile and a half could easily be covered in that time, and, by a strong walker, even two, while the dinner would taste twice as good for the exercise. another mile, or even half a mile, might be walked at supper-time, the pace always being kept up. if the confinement is so close as not to permit even these few snatches of time for a little recreation, never mind. do not give it up yet. the ten minutes on rising were made sure of anyhow.[b] yes, another chance remains. when at last the work is over, even though it is time to retire, get out-of-doors for half an hour's smart walk with brother or friend, and see how refreshing it will prove. the jaded body will almost forget its tire, and the sleep which follows, while it may not be quite as long as before, will make up in quality, and the new day will find a far fresher woman, one better up to her duties, than if no exercise had been taken. to her who does not labor so long, but has her evenings to herself, unless already broken by disease, there need be no trouble about getting strong and healthy. let her do the little exercise above mentioned till evening; then, first eating a hearty supper, beginning with such distance as she can walk easily, add to the distance gradually, until she finds herself equal to four or five miles at a smart pace for her--say three and a half miles to the hour. (the professional masculine pedestrians do eight miles an hour, to be sure; but miss von hillern, for instance, is good for about six.) this, taken either every evening, or, say, four evenings a week, will soon give tone, and make the woman feel strong instead of weak, will enable her to digest what she eats, and will visibly improve her appetite. let her give five or ten minutes for exercising the arms and chest before retiring, and she has had abundant exercise for that day, while any trouble she has had in the past about sleeping is at an end. but sufficient as the evening walk is, of course if it can be had in daylight and in the sunshine, it is all the better. few mothers are so placed that they cannot each day, by good management, get an hour for the care of their health. let them be sure to take a quick, lively walk for the whole time, not with arms held motionless, but swinging easily as men's do--of course, for the first month taking less distances, but working steadily on. they will be astonished at the very gratifying difference in the result between it and the old listless walk, and how much easier the day's duties come now. but there is one class of women who are especially favored--a large class too, in our land--the daughters of parents so well to do that, between their graduation from school and the day they are married, their time is practically their own. if weak at the start, let them, after gradual exercise begins to make them stronger, take more besides the few minutes at rising and retiring, and the hearty constitutional afoot. if their walking is done in the afternoon, let them set apart half an hour in the latter part of the morning (if possible, with another girl similarly placed) for work which shall strengthen the arms and the whole trunk. if there is a good gymnasium convenient--especially if it has a teacher of the right stamp--there will be the best place for this work. but if not, a little home gymnasium like that suggested later in the chapter on that subject, and which every girl ought to have, would be the place. very soon this extra work will tell. look what the four hours a week, just with two-pound wooden dumb-bells, very light indian clubs, and light pulley-weights, did for a youth of nineteen in one year![c] an increase of an inch in height, of one and a half around the upper arm, of three and a half inches in the girth of the chest, of fifteen pounds in weight--would not these work marked changes in any young woman, and would they not nearly always be most desirable changes? it is not a matter of inches and pounds alone. this increase of girth and weight is almost sure to tell most beneficially on the health and spirits as well--in short, on the general vigor. if, with the increase in size and strength, care has been taken to practise special exercises to make and keep her erect, to at all times, whether sitting, standing, or walking, hold the head and neck where they should be, there is not much doubt but that, even in one short year, the difference in any girl, not strong or straight at the beginning, will be very marked. it really lies with young women of this class to make themselves physically--in proportion to their height--what they will. is there any need of pointing out to a spirited girl the value of a sound, healthy, and shapely body? is there any sphere in woman's life where it will not stand her in good stead, and render her far more efficient at whatever she is called on to do--as daughter, sister, wife or mother, teacher or friend? nor is the benefit limited even to her own lifetime, but her posterity are blessed by it as well. would she like to have inherited consumptive tendencies, for instance, from her parent? will her children like any better to inherit the same from her? in our christian lands, we find, if history be correct, that the great men have almost invariably had remarkable mothers, while their fathers were as often nothing unusual. the sandwich island proverb, "if strong be the frame of the mother, her sons will make laws for the people," suggests truths that will hold good in many other places besides the sandwich islands. let every intelligent girl and woman in this land bear in mind that, from every point of view, a vigorous and healthy body, kept toned up by rational, systematic, daily exercise, is one of the very greatest blessings which can be had in this world; that many persons spend tens of thousands of dollars in trying to regain even a part of this blessing when once they have lost it; that the means of getting it are easily within the reach of all, who are not already broken by disease; that it is never too late to begin, and that one hour a day, properly spent, is all that is needed to secure it. footnotes: [b] see (page 169) how mr. bryant used those morning minutes, and how well he was repaid for it, too! [c] see page 147. chapter v. why men should exercise daily. the advantages to men of a well-built body, kept in thorough repair, are very great. those of every class, whose occupation is sedentary, soon come to appreciate this. some part of the machinery gets out of order. it may be the head, or eyes, or throat; it may be the lungs or stomach, liver or kidneys. something does not go right. there is a clogging, a lack of complete action, and often positive pain. this physical clogging tells at once on the mental work, either making its accomplishment uncomfortable and an effort, or becoming so bad as to actually prevent work at all. it may make the man ill. there is very little doubt but that a large majority of ailments would be removed, or, rather, would never have come at all, had the lungs and also the muscles of the man had vigorous daily action to the extent that frequent trial had shown best suited to that man's wants. one of the quickest known ways of dispelling a headache is to give some of the muscles, those of the legs, for instance, a little hard, sharp work to do. the reason is obvious. dr. mitchell puts it well when he says that muscular exercise flushes the parts engaged in it, and so depletes the brain. but fortunately that same exercise also helps make better blood, gets the entire lungs into action, quickens the activity of the other vital organs, and so tones up the whole man, that, if the exercise is taken daily and is kept up, disorder, unless very deep-seated, disappears. it is well known that when the system, from any cause, gets run down, disease is more likely to enter, and slower at being shaken off. thousands and hundreds of thousands of men and women have hard work, mental strain, fret and anxiety, daily, and for years together--indeed, scarcely do anything to lighten the tension in this direction. they tell you they are subject to headache or dyspepsia, or other disorder, as if it was out of the question to think of preventing it. but had the work been so arranged, as it nearly always could be--far oftener than most persons think--to secure daily an hour for vigorous muscular exercise for all the parts, this running down would, in most instances, never come. the sharp, hot work, till the muscles are healthily tired, insures the good digestion, the cleared brain, the sound sleep, the buoyant spirits. the president of one of the largest banks in this country told the writer that, disappointed one summer in not getting a run to europe, reflection told him that one marked benefit such jaunts had brought him was from the increased sleep he was enabled to get, that thereupon he determined on longer sleeps at home. he got them, and found, as he well put it, that he could "fight better." beset all day long with men wanting heavy loans, that fighting tone, that ability to say "no" at the right time and in a way which showed he meant it, must have not only added to his own well-being, but to the bank's protection as well. again, many men are liable to occasionally have sudden and very protracted spells of head-work, where sleep and almost everything else must give way, so that the business in hand may be gotten through with. "tom brown" told the writer that, when in parliament, he could work through a whole week together on but four hours of sleep a night, and be none the worse for it, provided he could have all he wanted the next week, and that since he was twenty-five he had hardly known a sick day. a father, tired from his day of busy toil, may have a sick child, who for much of the night will not let him sleep. such taxes as this, coming to one already run down and weak, cannot be braved frequently with impunity. unless the five or six miles a day of tom brown and his fellow-englishmen's "constitutional," or some equivalent, is resorted to, and the man kept well toned-up, one of these sudden calls may prove too severe, and do serious if not fatal injury. this toning-up is not all. if the bodily exercise is such as to get all the muscles strong, and keep them so, the very work that would otherwise overdo and exhaust now has no such effect, but is gone through with spirit and ease. there is that consciousness of strength which is equal to all such trifles. the very nervousness and worry which used to be so wearing, at the sudden and ceaseless calls of the day, have gone, and for the reason that strong nerves and strong muscles are very liable to go together, and not to mind these things. what does the athlete at the top of his condition know about nervousness? he is blithe as a lark all the day long. dr. mitchell says: "the man who lives an out-door life--who sleeps with the stars visible above him, who wins his bodily subsistence at first-hand from the earth and waters--is a being who defies rain and sun, has a strange sense of elastic strength, may drink if he likes, and may smoke all day long, and feel none the worse for it. some such return to the earth for the means of life is what gives vigor and developing power to the colonists of an older race cast on a land like ours. a few generations of men living in such fashion store up a capital of vitality which accounts largely for the prodigal activity displayed by their descendants, and made possible only by the sturdy contest with nature which their ancestors have waged. that such a life is still led by multitudes of our countrymen is what alone serves to keep up our pristine force and energy." now, while this extreme hardiness and tone cannot be had by a person who has twelve hours of busy brain-work daily in-doors, and only one of bodily exercise, still, much can be done, quite enough to calm and tranquillize, and to carry easily over those passes which used to be dreaded. if the man who habitually works too long without a rest would every hour or so turn lightly from his work, for even sixty seconds, to some vigorous exercise right in his office, or even in the next room or hall-way, until the blood got out of his brain a little, and the muscles tingled with a hearty glow, he would go back so refreshed as to quickly make up, both in the quantity and quality of his work, for the time lost. when his hour for exercise came, instead of having no heart for it, he would spring to it with alacrity, like the school-boy does to his play. even if the strong man does occasionally become jaded, he knows, as hughes did, how to get back his strength and snap, and that a tired man is many removes from a tired-out one. there is a great deal in knowing whether your work is overdoing you or simply tiring you. one of the strongest and best oarsmen harvard ever had, used, at first, to think he ought to stop rowing when he began to perspire, and was quite astounded when an older man told him that that was only the beginning of the real work. there is no end of comfort to a tired man, either mentally or physically, in the thought that sure relief is near. again, this relief by physical exercise will encourage the man to hope that, if war or accident do not cut him down, he may look for a long life, no matter how great may be the occasional strain. few men, for instance, familiar with the life of the duke of wellington will claim that they are better workers than he was, or that they get through more in a day or year, or that, heavy as their responsibilities may be, they surpass or even equal those which were his for years together. yet all the terrible mental strain this illustrious man underwent, battling with one of the greatest captains this world ever saw, all the exposure and forced marching, privation and toil, which come to the faithful soldier, and to him who holds the lives of multitudes in his hands, this man knew, and yet so controlled his work, exacting as it all was, as to manage to keep his body superior to all it was called on to do, and his mind in constant working order, and this not merely up to threescore and ten, but to fourscore good years, and three more besides. did not the vigorous body at the start, and the daily attention to it, pay him? will it be claimed that the president of one of the best-known corporations on this continent did any more work than wellington? that president was at it all day, and far into the night, and when away in europe, nominally on a play-spell, as well. naturally, he was a strong, energetic man; but he had so worked, and so neglected his body, that he died at fifty-two. which of the two men showed the better sense? what does cutting one's self down at fifty-two mean? five minutes' reflection should tell any reasonable person that the man was overworking himself, and going at a pace no man could hold and live. does not this show a lack of sense, and especially when much of that work could certainly have been done by subordinates? was not one of daniel webster's best points his skill in getting work done by others, and saving for himself the parts he liked best? when, after long years of toil and perseverance, one has worked himself up to position and wide influence, is it sensible to do what his humblest employã© could rightly tell him is overcrowding, and so forcing the pace that he certainly cannot hold it? instead of taking that position and that influence and wielding them for greater ends, and improving them very markedly, must there not be a keen pang to their owner when, tantalized with what seems surely within his grasp, that grasp itself weakens, and the machine goes all to pieces? these later years are especially the precious ones to the wealthy man. they are his best days. then his savings, and his earnings too, accumulate as they did not when he was younger. look at the work done by vanderbilt, for example, accomplished almost thirty years after he was fifty-two! did not the active out-door life on the little periauger of his youth, and the daily constitutionals which, notwithstanding his infirmities, all new yorkers saw him taking in later life, pay him? and are they less precious in any other line of life? look for a moment at the value health is to a man in any of the learned professions--of having a sound and vigorous body, with each branch of his vital system working regularly, naturally, and in harmony with the rest. do these things make no difference to the divine? had the sturdy, prize-fighter make of martin luther nothing to do with his contempt for the dangers awaiting his appearance before charles v. and his diet of worms, and which caused him to say he would go there though the devils were as thick as the tiles on the houses; and with the grand stand he made for the religious light which now shines so freely upon the whole christian world? thomas guthrie, first tying one hand behind him, with the other could whip any man in oxford who would also fight one-handed. who doubts that the vigor so evinced had much to do with the faithful, arduous life's work he did, and did so well that all scotland is to-day justly proud of him? have the magnificent breadth and depth of spurgeon's chest, and his splendid outfit of vital organs, no connection with his great power and influence as a preacher of world-wide renown? have the splendid physique and abounding vitality of henry ward beecher--greater almost than that of any man in a hundred thousand--nothing to do with his ability to attend to his duties as pastor, author, lecturer, and editor--work enough to kill half a dozen ordinary men--and with the tireless industry which must precede his marked success in them all? are not the towering form, the ruddy health, and grand, manly vigor of dr. john hall weighty elements, first in putting together, and then in driving home, the honest, earnest, fearless words which all remember who ever heard him speak? have not the great bodies of those two young giants of the american pulpit, phillips brooks and joseph cook, proved most valuable accessories to their great brains? is there anything feeble about any of these? put the tape-measure around them anywhere you like, and see how generous nature has been with them. is it all a mere chance that they happen to have splendid bodies? why is it that we never hear of such as these having "ministers' sore throat," and "blue mondays," and having to be sent by their congregations, every now and then, away to a foreign land to recruit their health and keep them up to their work? do sound and sturdy bodies, and due attention daily to keeping them in good repair, have nothing to do with their ability to cope at all times with the duty lying next to them--and with their attention to it, too, in such a way as to make them so much more effective than other men in their great life's work? that the physician himself needs sound health and plentiful strength, few will question; and yet, does he, from his calling alone, do anything to insure it? dragged from his bed at all hours of the night, thrown daily, almost hourly, in contact with deadly disease--often so contagious that others shrink from going where he goes, like the brave man he must be to face such dangers--would not that general toned-up condition of the thoroughly sound and healthy man prove a most valuable boon to him--indeed, often save his life? and yet, does his daily occupation insure him that boon, even though it does enable him to get out-of-doors far more than most men who earn their living by mental labor? witness one of their own number, dr. mitchell, on this point; for he says, "the doctor, who is supposed to get a large share of exercise, in reality gets very little after he grows too busy to walk, and has then only the incidental exposure to out-door air." would not a sensible course of physical exercise daily pay him--especially when pretty much all the muscular work he gets of any account is for his forearms and a little of his back, and then only when he drives a hard-bitted horse? and does not a lawyer need a good body, and one kept in good order? after the first few years, when his practice is once well established, he finds that, unlike men in most other callings, his evenings are not his own, and that, if he is going to read any law, and to attempt to keep up with the new decisions every year, even in his own state, what between court work, the preparation of his cases, drawing papers, consultation, correspondence, and the other matters which fill up the daily round of the lawyer in active practice, that reading will have to be done out of office-hours often, or not done at all. even in his evenings his business is too pressing to allow any time for reading. here, then, is a man who is in serious danger of being cut off from that rest and recreation which most other men can have. the long, steady strain, day and evening, often breaks him down, where an hour's active exercise daily on the road or on the water, with his business for the time scrupulously forgotten, together with from a quarter to half an hour, on rising and retiring, in strengthening his arms and chest, would have kept him as tough and fresh as they did bryant, not simply up to sixty, or even seventy, but clear up to his eighty-fourth year. every lawyer who has been in active practice in any of our large cities for a dozen years can point to members of his bar who have either broken clean down, and gone to a premature grave from neglecting their bodily health, or who are now far on the road in that same direction. this happens notwithstanding the fact that in many places the courts do not sit once during the whole summer, and lawyers can hence get longer vacations and go farther from home than most men. let any one read the life of rufus choate, and say whether there was any need of his dying an old man at fifty-five. he started not with a weak body, but one decidedly strong. so little care did he take of it that, as he himself well put it, "latterly he hadn't much of any constitution, but simply lived under the by-laws." did it hinder his distinguished compeer, daniel webster, from magnificent success at the bar because he took many a good play-spell with a fishing-rod in his hand? because he not only knew but regarded the advantage and wisdom of keeping his body toned-up and hearty, and so regarded it that he died, not at fifty-five, but at the end of the full threescore years and ten? and did grand physical presence, the most impressive which ever graced american forum or senate-chamber--so striking, in fact, that, as he walked the streets of liverpool, the laboring men stopped work and backed their admiring gaze by concluding that he must be a king--did these qualities not contribute to that same magnificent success? daniel o'connell was a man of sturdier body even than webster, of whom wendell phillips says: "he was the greatest orator that ever spoke english. a little o'connell would have been no o'connell. every attitude was beauty, every gesture grace. there was a magnetism that melted every will into his." had not this wonderful man much to thank these same qualities for? had they not something to do with the stretching of his vigorous life, not merely up to fifty-five, or even to seventy, but clear up to seventy-three? how many men has the world ever seen who filled, and well filled, more high offices than henry brougham, and who, no matter where he was, was always a tireless worker? one biographer says that, as a boy, he was the fleetest runner in the neighborhood, and this man, "as an orator, second in his time only to canning;" this man, who once spoke in parliament for seven days consecutively, who, even when upward of seventy, showed his zeal for reform by urging the introduction into england of the new york code of procedure--this one of england's most famous lord chancellors took such care of his body that he never ceased from his labors until he was eighty-nine. let us look at but one more instance of the way a powerful mind and an uncommonly strong body blend and aid their possessor to his purposes. a recent writer in "blackwood" says of bismarck: "_he is a powerful man. that is what strikes at once every one who sees him for the first time._ he is very tall and of enormous weight, but not ungainly. every part of his gigantic frame is well-proportioned--the large round head, the massive neck, the broad shoulders, and the vigorous limbs. he is now more than sixty-three, and the burden he has had to bear has been usually heavy; but though his step has become slow and ponderous, he carries his head high--looking down, even, on those who are as tall as himself--and his figure is still erect. during these latter years he has suffered frequent and severe bodily pain, but no one could look upon him as an old man, or as one to be pitied. on the contrary, everybody who sees him feels that _prince bismarck is still in possession of immense physical power_." and what holds good as to professional men in this respect of course will apply with equal force to busy brain-workers in any other line as well. it is nowhere claimed here that there have not been in many callings great men whose bodies were indifferent affairs, but endeavor has been made to show, not only that a great mind and a vigorous body can go together, but that the latter is, not to the man of unusual mental power alone, but to every man, a most valuable acquisition, and one that he should, if he does not possess it already, take prompt steps to secure, and then, once acquiring it, should use the means, as bryant did, to retain it. in the 1877-'78 annual report of harvard college, president eliot, who has been exceptionally well-placed to observe several thousand young men, and to know what helps and what hinders their intellectual progress, adds his valuable testimony to the importance of vigorous health and regular physical exercise to all who have, or expect to have, steady and severe mental work to do. busy professional men may well heed his words. speaking of the value of scholarships to poor but deserving young men, he says: "if sound health were one of the requisitions for the enjoyment of scholarships, parents who expected to need aid in educating their boys would have their attention directed in an effective way to the wise regimen of health; while young men who had their own education to get would see that it was only prudent for them to secure a wholesome diet, plenty of fresh air, and _regular exercise_. a singular notion prevails, especially in the country, that it is the feeble, sickly children who should be sent to school and college, since they are apparently unfit for hard work. the fact that, in the history of literature, a few cases can be pointed out in which genius was lodged in a weak or diseased body, is sometimes adduced in support of the strange proposition that physical vigor is not necessary for professional men. but all experience contradicts these notions. _to attain success and length of service in any of the learned professions, including that of teaching, a vigorous body is well-nigh essential._ a busy lawyer, editor, minister, physician, or teacher has need of _greater physical endurance_ than a farmer, trader, manufacturer, or mechanic. all professional biography teaches that _to win lasting distinction in sedentary, in-door occupations, which task the brain and the nervous system, extraordinary toughness of body must accompany extraordinary mental powers_." chapter vi. home gymnasiums. all that people need for their daily in-door exercises is a few pieces of apparatus which are fortunately so simple and inexpensive as to be within the reach of most persons. buy two pitchfork handles at the agricultural store. cut off enough of one of them to leave the main piece a quarter of an inch shorter than the distance between the jambs of your bedroom door, and square the ends. on each of these jambs fasten two stout hard-wood cleats, so slotted that the squared ends of the bar shall fit in snugly enough not to turn. let the two lower cleats be directly opposite each other, and about as high as your shoulder; the other two also opposite each other, and as high above the head as you can comfortably reach. again, bore into the jamb, at about the height of your waist, a hole as large as the bar is thick. now work the auger farther into each hole, till it reaches the first piece of studding, and then an inch or so into that. find how many inches it is from the jamb to the end of the bore in the studding, and cut the second fork handle in halves. pass one half through the hole in the jamb, and set its end into the hole in the studding. bore a similar hole in the other jamb directly opposite, and repeat the last-named process with its nearest studding-piece, and adjust remainder of the fork handle to it. now cut enough off each piece of the handle to leave the distance between the two about eighteen inches. you have then provided yourself with a pair of bars on which you can try one of the exercises usually practised on the parallel bars, and that one worth almost as much as all the rest. (see fig. 3.) [illustration: fig. 3. horizontal bar and chest-bars, for home use.] on the following page is a sketch of a pair of pulley-weights recently made, designed by dr. sargent, which are excellent. their merits will be seen at a glance. instead of the weights swaying sideways and banging against the boxes, as they are liable to do in the ordinary old-fashioned pulley-weight boxes, they travel in boxes, a a, between the rods b b. a rubber bed also prevents the weight from making a noise as it strikes the floor, while another capital feature is the arrangement of boxes, in which you may graduate the weight desired by adding little plates of a pound each, instead of the unchanging weight of the old plan. [illustration: fig. 4. noiseless pulley-weights.] one of these boxes, with its load, can easily be used as a rowing-weight, by rigging a pulley-wheel a few inches above the floor, and directly in front of the weight box, and then making the rope long enough to also pass under this pulley. a stick of the thickness of an oar handle can then be attached to the end of the rope. if the old-fashioned pulley-weights are preferred, as they are cheaper, long boxes take the place of these iron rods, and a common iron weight travels up and down in the boxes. at some of the gymnasiums--that of the young men's christian association in new york, for example--these weights, of various sizes, snaffles, ropes, and handles, can all be had, of approved pattern and at reasonable rates. here, then, we have a horizontal bar fitted for most of the uses of that valuable appliance, a pair of parallel bars, or their equivalent for certain purposes, a pair of pulling-weights, and a rowing-weight. now, with the addition of a pair of dumb-bells, weighing at first about one twenty-fifth of the user's own weight, we have a gymnasium more comprehensive than most persons would imagine. mr. bryant was contented for forty years with less apparatus even than this, and yet look at the benefit he derived from it![d] the bar, cleats, and parallels ought to be made and put up for not over two dollars, and four or five dollars more will cover the cost of pulling-weights and gear on the old plan, unless a heavy rowing-weight is added, which can be had at five cents a pound, which is also the price of well-shaped dumb-bells. here is a gymnasium, then, under cover, rent free, exactly at hand, when one is lightly clad on rising or just before retiring, which takes up but little room, can hardly get out of order, which will last a dozen years. with these few bits of apparatus every muscle of the trunk, nearly all those of the legs, and all those of the arms, can, by a few exercises so simple that they can be learned at a single trying, be brought into active play. the bar in the upper place will be useful mainly for grasping, hanging, or swinging on by the hands, or for pulling one's self up until the chin touches it. in the lower place it enables one to perform very many of the exercises usual on the horizontal bar. the short bars or handles have scarcely more than one office, but that is one of the most important of all exercises for the weak-armed and the weak-chested. this exercise is the one called "dipping." the bars are grasped with the hands, the feet being held up off the floor; then, starting with the elbows straight, gradually lowering until the elbows are bent as far as possible, then rising till they are straight again, and so continuing. the pulley-weights admit of a great variety of uses, reaching directly every muscle of the hand, wrist, arm, shoulder, chest, abdomen, the entire back and neck; while, by placing one foot in the handle and pulling the weight with it, several of the leg muscles soon have plenty to do, as is also the case with the rowing-weight. the field of the dumb-bells is hardly less extensive. if but one of these pieces of apparatus can be had, the pulley-weights are the most comprehensive, and so the most important, though it is astonishing how closely the dumb-bells follow; and then they have the great advantage of being portable. combine with the exercises you can get from all this apparatus those which need none at all, such as rising on the toes, hopping, stooping low, walking, running, leaping, and no more tools are needed to develop whatever muscles one likes. what special work will employ any particular muscle will be indicated later. if the apparatus is only to be used by a man or boy, a striking-bag can be made of seven or eight pieces of soft calf-skin, so that the whole, when full of sawdust, shall be either round like a ball or pear-shaped, and shall be about fifteen inches in horizontal diameter. this should be hung on a rope from a hook screwed into one of the beams of the ceiling. this makes a valuable acquisition to the snug little home-gymnasium. for a person having a weak chest, and who aims to broaden and deepen that important region, perhaps no better and safer contrivance can be had than the one sketched in fig. 8, on page 248. the fact of having a few bits of apparatus close at hand, when one is lightly clad, will tend to tempt any one to get at them a little while morning and evening. if a parent wants children to use them, instead of placing the apparatus in his own room, the nursery, or an empty room where all can have ready access, would be better. of course, in such case there should be additional weights, and dumb-bells suited to the age and strength of those who are to use them.[e] indeed, by providing children at home with articles which they like to use, and the use of which brings much direct good, the nursery has a new value--greater, perhaps, when made the most of, than it ever had before. all the exercises needed to make children strong can be readily learned, as all of them are exceedingly simple. in another place these exercises will be indicated. the parent can then select those exercises he sees the child needs, and teach them in a few minutes, so arranging it as to get the children to exercise a certain time every day. as has been shown, the cost of all these appliances will not be nearly as much as a moderate doctor's bill, and quite as little as the patent gymnastic articles, which are so often praised, mostly by people who know little or nothing of other forms of exercise than those fitted to their own apparatus. a large beam, for instance, has been devised, with handles fastened by a contrivance above it, which is meant to restore the spine (when out of place) to its proper position. but there is scarcely anything it can accomplish which cannot readily be done on some one of these simple, old-fashioned, and far less cumbrous pieces of apparatus. again, in the large cities there are establishments where the chief and almost the sole exercise is with the lifting-machine. a person, standing nearly erect, is made to lift heavy weights often of several hundred, and even a thousand or more pounds. the writer, when a lad of seventeen, worked a few minutes nearly every day for six months on a machine of this kind; and while it seemed a fine thing to lift six hundred pounds at first, and over a thousand toward the end, there came an unquestioned stiffening of the back, as though the vertebrã¦ were packed so closely together as to prevent their free action. there came also a very noticeable and abnormal development of three sets of muscles: those of the inner side of the forearm, the lower and inner end of the front thigh just above the knee, and those highest up on the back, branching outward from the base of the neck. with considerable other vigorous exercise taken at the same time, this heavy lifting still produced the most marked effect, so that the development caused by it was soon large, out of all proportion compared with that resulting from the other work. now, if it is the fact that they who practice on the "health lift" ordinarily take little or no other vigorous exercise, why is not this same partial development going to result? and if this is the case, is it not rather a questionable exercise, especially for those to whom it is so highly recommended--the sedentary--and even worse for those who stand at desks all day? we have seen it make one very stiff and ungainly in his movements, and it is natural that it should; for he who does work of the grade suited to a truck-horse is far more likely to acquire the heavy and ponderous ways of that worthy animal than he who spreads his exercise over all, or nearly all, his muscles, instead of confining it to a few, and who makes many vigorous and less hazardous efforts instead of a single mighty one. all the muscles of the arm, for instance, which are used in striking out, putting up a dumb-bell, or any sort of pushing, are wholly idle in this severe pulling--more so, even, than they are in the oarsman when rowing. hence, unless they get even work, there will be loss of symmetry, one-sided development, and only partial strength. another popular piece of apparatus is the "parlor gymnasium;" and, though needlessly expensive, it is a surprisingly useful affair, if once one knows how to use it to the best effect. but it has some disadvantages which, while not conceded by its inventor, it is yet well enough to know. in its more elaborate and complete form it is called the "parlor rowing apparatus," and is also described as "the most complete rowing apparatus in the world." in reality it is very poorly adapted to the oarsman's wants, and tends to get him into habits he should, if he wishes to be a good oar, be careful to refrain from. it is a matter of supreme importance in rowing to get a strong grip at the beginning of the stroke, and to put the weight on heavily then; while it is a glaring fault to do anything like jerking toward the end of the stroke. but with this parlor rowing-machine, instead of lifting a solid weight, as in the ordinary rowing-weight, a rubber strap, or, rather, two rubber straps, are simply stretched while the stroke is pulled, and then slackened to begin the next. the trouble is that the straps have to be pulled nearly half the length of the stroke before it begins to grow hard to pull, so that throwing one's weight on heavily at the beginning causes the rower to feel somewhat as he would if, in taking a stroke in a boat, his oar-blade had missed the water entirely, or as a boxer who unexpectedly beats the air. the better the beginning of a stroke is caught in the water, the more the fulcrum of water itself solidifies, and by so much more can the rower throw his weight on then, and at just the right time. the effect with the rubber straps is the very reverse; for, in throwing the weight on at the beginning, the straps do not offer enough resistance to have the desired effect, while they offer too much at the finish of the stroke. this same defect stands out plainly in some of the pushing exercises done with it, as well as in using it as a lifting-machine, making it necessary, for the latter purpose, not to catch hold of the handles at all, but, as we have seen the inventor himself do, somewhere toward the middle of the straps, else the knees would get entirely straightened before the tension became great, which would force the bulk of the work to be done with the hands. great care must be taken, also, to have the bolts at the farther ends of these straps fastened very firmly into the wood-work, or wherever they are attached; for if, under a heavy pull, one of these bolts should work out, it would be in great danger of striking the performer in the eye or elsewhere with terrific force. still, with these few defects, this parlor rowing apparatus is an excellent contrivance, and, used intelligently and assiduously, ought to bring almost any development a person might reasonably hope for, though its range is hardly as wide as that of these few bits of house apparatus before named, when taken together. there is nothing novel about the latter, excepting dr. sargent's apparatus for the chest. all have been known for a generation or more. but the many uses of them are but little known, and their introduction into our homes and schools has hardly yet begun. yet, so wide is the range of exercise one can have with them, and of exercise of the very sort so many people need; and so simple is the method of working them, so free, too, from danger or anything which induces one to overwork, and so inexpensive are they and easy to make, that they ought to be as common in our homes as are warm carpets and bright firesides. every member of the family, both old and young, should use them daily, enough to keep both the home-gymnasium and its users in good working order. footnotes: [d] see page 169. [e] see page 266. chapter vii. the school the true place for children's physical culture. but, well adapted as our homes are in many ways for the proper care and development of the body, there is one place which, in almost every particular, surpasses them in this direction, if its advantages are understood and fully appreciated, and that is the school. a father may so arrange his time that a brief portion of it daily can be regularly allotted to the physical improvement of the children, as john stuart mill's father did his for his son's mental improvement, and with such remarkable results. but most fathers, from never having formed the habit, will be slow to learn it, and their time is already so taken up that it will seem impossible to spare any. the mother, being more with the child, feels its needs and lacks the more keenly, and would gladly deny herself much could she assure her children ruddy health. but her day is also by no means an idle one, and, just when she could best spare half an hour, it is hardest to have them with her. besides, in too many instances she is herself far from strong, and needs some one to point out to her the way to physical improvement more, even, than do her children. there is a feeling that the child is sent to _school_ to be educated, and that certain trained persons are paid to devote their time to that education. as they are supposed to bring the children forward in certain directions, this leads easily to the conclusion that they would be the proper persons to care for other parts of that education as well. nor is this view so wide of the mark. the teacher has always a considerable number of scholars. he can encourage the slower by the example of the quicker; he can arouse the emulation, he can get work easily out of a number together, where one or two would be hard to move. if he rightly understood his power; if he knew how easy it is, by a little judicious daily work, to prevent or remove incipient deformity, to strengthen the weak, to form in the pupil the habit of sitting and standing erect, to add to the general strength, to freshen the spirits, and do good in other ways, he would gladly give whatever time daily would be necessary to the work, while, like most persons who try to benefit others, he would find that he himself would gain much by it as well. he has not a class of pupils stiffened by long years of hard overwork of some muscles, and with others dormant and undeveloped. the time when children are with him is almost the best time in their whole lives to shape them as he chooses, not morally or mentally only, but physically as well. the one shoulder, a little higher than its mate, will not be half so hard to restore to place now as when confirmed in its position by long years of a bad habit, which should never have been tolerated a day. if the chest is weak and flat, or pigeon-breasted, now is the time to remove the defect. build up the arms to be strong and comely now; accustom the chest and shoulders to their proper place, whatever their owner is at; cover the back with full and shapely muscles; get the feet used to the work which comes so easy and natural to them, once they are trained aright; and the same boy who would have grown up half-built, ungraceful, and far from strong, will now ripen into a manly, vigorous, well-knit man, of sound mind and body, familiar with the possibilities of that body, with what is the right use and what the abuse of it, and knowing well how to keep it in that condition which shall enable him to accomplish the best day's mental labor. and he will be far fitter to face the privations, anxieties, and troubles of life in the most successful way. nor is the rule at all difficult to follow. little by little the boy's mind is led along, until the difficult problem in arithmetic seems no harder to him than did the adding of two and two at first. for hundreds of years the mental training of youth has been a matter of careful thought and study, and no effort is spared to secure the best advantages of all the teaching of the past. but with that past before him; with its many great men--not always, to be sure, but so often--men whose bodies were sturdy, and equal to the tremendous tasks which their great activity of mind led them willingly to assume, he is encouraged and urged to keep his mind under continual pressure for many hours daily, and every incentive is brought to make the most of him in this direction. and yet that which would have helped him in almost every step he took, which would have fitted him to stand with ease what now in a few years so often breaks him down, is totally ignored and left quite out of sight. it is plainly no fault of his. the blame lies with the system which, for generations together, has gone along so blindly. the life a farmer's son leads makes him strong and hearty, and when his school-days are over his work is of such a sort as to maintain all his vigor. the city lad who plays on the brick sidewalks, born often of half-developed parents, has no daily tasks which bring his muscles into vigorous play, strengthening his digestion. is there any possible reason why the city lad should be favored physically like the country boy? the first has every incentive for daily exercise, the latter none at all. there ought to be no more delay in this matter of physical education in the schools. prompt and vigorous steps should be taken to acquaint every school-teacher in this country with such exercises as would quickly restore the misshapen, insure an erect carriage, encourage habits of full breathing, and strengthen the entire trunk and every limb. if the teachers have not the requisite knowledge now, let it at once be acquired. they, of all persons, are expected to know how to acquire knowledge, and to aid others in doing the same. as soon as they have gained even partial knowledge of how to effect these things, let them lose no time in imparting that knowledge to the pupil. physical education ought to be made compulsory in every school in this land. have it directly under the eye and guidance of the teacher, and have that teacher know that, at the quarterly or semi-annual examinations, reasonable progress will be expected in this department just as certainly as in any other, and if he is not up to his work, that some one who is will be put in his place. then that progress will surely come. it has come already, where the means have been understood and used, as witness maclaren abroad and sargent here; and it brings such a benefit to the pupil that no pains should be spared to insure it. scarcely a week passes but the press of our larger cities repeats the story of some overworked man or woman breaking completely down with general debility, the body not only a wreck, but too often the mind as well. had that body been early shaped, and hardened, and made vigorous--as, for instance, chief-justice marshall's father looked to it that his great son's was--and the habit formed of taking daily work, and of the right sort to keep it so, and had the importance of that care been impressed on the mind till it had fixed itself as firmly as the sense of decency or the need of being clean, is it likely that the person would have allowed himself to get so run down, or, if he did, to remain so? the trouble usually is that the man does not know what to do to tone himself up and keep himself equal to his tasks, or that it needs but a little to effect this. he will spend money like water; he will travel fast and far; he will do almost anything, but he knows no certain cure. is it not as important to have good health and strength as to figure or write correctly, to read the ã�neids or homer, to pick up a smattering of french or german? who is the more likely, if his life be in-door and sedentary, not to live half his days--he who has never learned to build and strengthen his body, and keep it regulated and healthy, and to know the value of that health, or he who has? is not work which will almost surely lengthen one's life, and increase his usefulness, worth doing, especially when it takes but a very little while daily to do it, and less yet when the habit commenced in childhood? go through our public and private schools, and see how few thoroughly well-built boys and girls there are. good points are not scarce, but how small the proportion of the deep-chested, the well-made and robust, who give good promise of making strong and healthy men and women! fortunately there is nothing really difficult in the work of strengthening the weak, making the somewhat crooked straight, of symmetrizing the partially developed; indeed, on the other hand, it is, when once understood, simple, inexpensive, and easy. more than all this, it is a work which the teacher will find that almost every scholar will take hold of, not, as in many other branches, with reluctance, but with alacrity; and it is always pleasant teaching those who are eager to learn. but a little time each day is needed, never over half an hour of actual work in-doors and an hour out-of-doors. suppose a teacher has forty pupils, and that thirty of them have either weak or indifferent chests. let her form a chest-class out of the thirty, and, for ten minutes a day, let them practice exercises aimed exclusively to enlarge and develop the chest. some of such exercises will be pointed out on page 245. begin very gradually, so mildly that the weakest chest there shall have no ache or pain from the exercise. for the first week do that same work, and that much of it daily, and no more; but do it carefully, and do not miss a stroke. let this exercise come at the appointed hour, as certainly as any other study. the second week make the work a trifle harder, or longer, or both. in this, and in every exercise, insist, as far as possible, on an erect carriage of the head and neck, and frequently point out their value. insist, further, on the pupil's always inhaling as large, and full, and slow breaths as he can, seeing to it that every air-cell is brought into vigorous play. be careful that he or she does not, without your knowledge, get hold of heavier apparatus, or try more difficult exercise in the same direction, before the muscles are trained to take it. overdoing is not only useless, and sure to bring stiffness and aches, but it is in it that any danger lies, never in light and simple work, adapted to the pupil's present strength, and done under the teacher's eye, or in heavier work after he has been trained gradually up to it. now, when a fortnight has gone by, use a little heavier weights; stay at the work without weights a little longer, or draw the pulley-weight a few more strokes daily, never forgetting to hold the head and neck erect. will dumb-bells and weight-boxes be necessary? yes, or their equivalents. if the former cannot be had, flat-irons or cobble-stones of the same weight will do pretty well, and sand-bags can be used in the weight-boxes when pear-shaped weights or packed-boxes are scarce. it is a very small matter to supply a school with light dumb-bells, when they cost but five cents a pound, and when, if necessary to retrench, a quarter as many pairs of them as there are scholars will suffice. as will be shown in a later chapter, there is a very wide variety of exercises which could be practised in a school-room, which do not need one cent's worth of apparatus. they simply need to be known, and then faithfully practised, and most gratifying results are sure. in large cities it would be well to have all the teachers instructed by a competent master in the various exercises which they could so readily teach in school, and which would prove so beneficial to the scholars. london is already ahead of us in this direction. _harper's weekly_ of february 8th, 1879, says: "the london school board has appointed miss lofving, at a salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year, as superintendent of 'physical education' in the girls' schools." a man like dr. sargent, of the fifth avenue gymnasium, in new york, could easily, in a few half-hour lessons, instruct the two thousand or more teachers of the public schools of that city in the simpler, and yet very valuable exercises. they would be then well qualified, in turn, to instruct all the pupils, and to so grade their exercises as to adapt the work to all. the ordinary gymnastic instructor, as years have shown, in most of our gymnasiums, lets the pupil do about as he has a mind to. this would be just about as effective as if the same rule was followed out in mental training. but men like sargent, strict disciplinarians, trained physicians, and practical gymnasts as well, are far too scarce among us, and his is a field which many of our young physicians might enter with prospects of doing very great good in the community in which they live. let the school commissioners of each state look to this matter at once. let them insist that each teacher shall forthwith obtain the knowledge requisite to properly instruct and bring forward every pupil in his or her class. a knowledge should be had of the exact kind and amount of work requisite for a class of a certain age. let some suitable person or persons be appointed in the cities to supervise this branch of education, and see that the teachers are thoroughly qualified. let the scholar understand that his body can be trained exactly as well as his mind, and that the sound health of both is intimately connected with having it so trained. let the school-hours be so arranged that ten minutes in the middle of the morning session, and again in the afternoon, shall be allotted to this branch. see what maclaren[f] did for the radley and magdalen boys in _one hour a week!_ see what sargent[g] did in our country for two hundred youth in two hours a week, and with wooden dumb-bells, very light clubs, and a few pulley-weights at that! let people at once and forever get rid of the notion that this exercise is a mere play-spell, or that it is only good to make athletes or acrobats. it is as much a branch of education as any taught in our schools to-day; and who will question that, if such uniform and splendid progress was made in each school as was made in the cases just cited, and in different instances, with at first such unpromising pupils, the brief twenty minutes daily so spent would be as well spent and as valuable to each pupil as any other twenty or thirty minutes of his day? it should no more be allowed to interfere with their usual play than any other branch is. it is a matter of progress and development, in a way highly important to every scholar, and should be so treated, and the child's play-hours should be in no way curtailed to accomplish it. superintendent philbrick, of the boston schools, is a man of long experience in most matters connected with schools, their management, and wants. this gentlemen has lately received, at the paris exposition, high honor for his accomplishments in this direction. but are the schools of boston to-day taking the care they ought to and could so easily take to make the children healthy and vigorous? let mr. philbrick set about introducing into every public school in that city such a system of physical education as shall effect, for example, simply what maclaren effected, what sargent effected and is now effecting, and no more. let him stick to his task as persistently, if need be, as stanley stayed at his infinitely harder one, until every boy or girl who is graduated from a boston school has a strong, shapely, and healthy body, and knows what did much to make it so, and what will keep it so. then the east wind may blow over that good city, even until no gilding remains on the state-house dome, and the formerly weak throats and lungs will not mind it any more than they do the gentlest southern zephyr; mr. philbrick can feel, when he looks over his life's work, that he has accomplished a thing for the scholars of his charge, and introduced a public benefit, which will redound to his credit as long as the city stands. there is no more need of americans having poor legs than englishmen. there is no more need of a boy's chest remaining a slim and half-built affair at the brimmer school, or the boston latin school, than there was at radley. when the good work is commenced, when other cities begin to send their delegates and committees to watch methods, progress, and results, to take steps to secure the same benefits for their own schools, then the admirable example boston has set in leading off in this direction will be better understood. then all will wonder why so simple, so sensible, so effective a course, conducive to present and future health and well-being, had not been thought of and been carried out long ago. footnotes: [f] see page 140. [g] see pages 291, 292. chapter viii. what a gymnasium might be and do. few colleges of any pretension have not some sort of a gymnasium--indeed, hold it out to parents as one of the attractions. there is a building, and it has apparatus in it. the former often costs twice as much as needs be; the latter may be well made, and well suited to its purpose, or may not--in fact, more frequently is not. instead of having apparatus graded, so as to have some for the slim and weak, some for the stout and broad, too often one pair of parallel bars or one size of rowing-weight must suffice for all. frequently the apparatus getting loose, or worn, or out of repair, remains so. the director is little more than a janitor, and is so regarded. in many instances he does so little as to render this opinion a just one. imperfect ventilation, and in winter lack of proper warmth, help to make it unattractive. the newly-arrived freshman is generally run down and thin from overwork in preparing himself for college. many a time, when much work was telling on him, he consoled himself with the thought that in the college-gymnasium, with his fellow-students about him all eagerly at work, he would soon pick up the strength he had lost, and perhaps come to be, in time, as strong as this or that fellow, a few years his senior, the fame of whose athletic exploits was more than local. as a rule, the american student is not very strong on entering college. president eliot, of harvard, said, a few years ago, of a majority of those coming into that university, for instance, that they 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." the student is usually inerect, and really needs "setting up" quite as much as the newly-arrived "pleb" at west point. but does he get it? no. if coming 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 base-ball or foot-ball 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 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 awhile, 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. it is a pretty 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. but a few years since a son of a lawyer of national reputation, a highly gifted youth, made a most 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 awhile, and vigor cultivated in other directions, the rank, the general average, might have been a trifle lower, but a most 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 even the casual observer sees that they cannot stand it long, and must break down before their real life's race is well begun. now, however exceptional may be the talents such a man has, 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, it would beneficially affect the reputation of their college as a live institution. nor is the director, with very few exceptions, the right sort of man for his place. either the faculty have no conception what they do 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. nor are the gymnasiums of our cities and towns much better off. new york city to-day, with one or two exceptions, is utterly without a gymnasium worthy of her. two of the best known are situated, one far below the street level, the other directly over a stable, and formerly at least, if not still, a very redolent stable at that. there is generally plenty of apparatus, most of which is good enough; but the boy or man who comes to use it 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. ordinarily 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 one or two 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 base-ball, 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 harvard, yale, cornell, 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 an egregious 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 a chance in them, is ridiculously small. dr. sargent says that at yale college, where he has been for six years instructor in physical culture, they actually do not exceed three per cent. of the whole number of students, while five per cent. will include every man in college who takes active work at the gymnasium, on the river, or the ball-field! any one familiar with american college athletics knows that the proportion of students who either play ball or row is probably, taking year and year together, about as great at yale as anywhere in the country. surprising as these figures are, they prove conclusively that the present system of college athletics, so far as it assumes to benefit the students at large, or even a tithe of them, is an utter failure. here, then, instead of the supposed advance in the general physical culture over that of years ago, there has been almost no advance. 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, but the great majority 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 no share in. the very natural result follows, that the great majority of students, at graduation, average no better in size, strength, health, vigor, endurance, or stamina than those of a generation ago, or are any fitter to stand successfully the wear and tear of their life's work. indeed, it is very doubtful if they are physically as well fitted for what is before them as the previous generation were, for in the latter case probably 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. yet in that day gymnasiums at the colleges were almost unknown, while now they are general. does the gymnasium, then, pay? yes, like a bath-tub--if used, and used sensibly; but if not, not. then, as it is used so little, is it worth having? at harvard, for instance, to-day there is in process of erection, at great expense, a gymnasium which, when finished, will doubtless be the most costly building of the sort in this country, and very possibly the best appointed as well. but unless there is introduced some sensible and vigorous system of bringing the students regularly there, and working them while they are there, it will almost surely prove a failure, and accomplish little or no more good than did the old one. now, suppose, first that this new institution is to be carried on with no more vigor or good sense than its predecessors. next, suppose that, opposite this expensive affair, on some neighboring field, there were built a commodious shed, costing perhaps one-tenth as much as its more pretentious rival, strongly framed, weather-tight, sensibly arranged, well lit, and comfortably warmed, large enough, too, to admit, at the edge of the main room, of a running track of say twenty laps to the mile. in an l adjoining let there be ample and well-ventilated dressing-rooms, a locker for each student, and sufficient washing facilities to meet the demand. suppose the ordinary sorts of apparatus were there, but made with great care, and of the proportions skilled gymnasts have found most suitable. let there be, besides, all newly-invented appliances which have proved valuable, such as the twenty or more dr. sargent has introduced, and any other good ones as well. suppose, too, that heavy weights for lifting, and all heavy clubs and dumb-bells, were carefully excluded. on the walls there should be casts and drawings, showing well-proportioned and well-developed arms, legs, and trunks, and a brief statement with each of the various measurements and proportions, and the ages of the men from whom they were taken, and, if possible, the sort and amount of work done by each in their progress. these need by no means be all modern. greece and rome, troy and pompeii, could furnish their quota. suppose the director at once, on the joining of a pupil, recorded, on a page set apart specially in his register, the age, height, general physical characteristics, weight, girth of calf, thigh, hips, waist, lower chest, upper chest--both at rest and inflated--neck, upper arm--extended and drawn up--and the forearm, hand, and wrist, taking care to note the time of day the measurements were made, and also obtaining a photograph of the man as he then appeared in exercising costume. 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's training had been such that he could tell at once, 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 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 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 at once that he not only knew what to do all through, but how to do it, and so promptly won the confidence of those he sought to instruct and benefit. is there any question in which of these two institutions the young man would make the most desirable progress? the first building and apparatus might be grand, fitted up with nearly all that could be desired, but the gymnasium lacked a masterhead who should show its possibilities. gymnasium and apparatus were like an engine without steam. the second building was not of much account as a building, but quite all that was needed for the real end in view. the london rowing-club boat-houses were for a long time mere sheds, not to be named in the same day with the tasteful stone boat-houses along the schuylkill, for instance; but those same plain sheds have for many years turned out amateur oarsmen who could row down any in the world. and what a benefit a gymnasium conducted on some plan similar to that above suggested 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 those 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 racing, 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, 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, but of a hale, comely, strong, and well-proportioned man, and see how well it would pay. bear in mind that 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 of trying. 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 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."[h] 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. instead of one hour a day, napoleon for years was in the saddle several hours almost daily, but we never heard that it clogged his mind. charles o'conor, always fond of long walks, is good at them to-day, and noticeably erect and quick of movement, though for weeks he once lay at death's door, and though he was born in 1804. james russell lowell, sturdy, broad, and ruddy, is said to never ride when he can walk, and he is nearly sixty. gladstone's reputation as an axeman among the hawarden oaks has reached our shores. indeed, it is doubtful if there are many better _fellers_ of his age in europe, and he was born in 1809. mr. m.h. beebee, the present senior tutor at cambridge university in england, who rowed at number two in the "'varsity" eight against oxford in '65, not only took the very highest university honor--a double-first--but a much higher double-first than even gladstone had taken years before. the fencing, duelling, and hard riding of bismarck's youth do not seem to have perceptibly dimmed his intellect, or to have unfitted it for enormous and very important work in later life. and while the in-door 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 than by grant or sherman." a recent, interesting, and wonderfully apt instance, more so than any of these, one going straight to the point, and as nearly as possible the equivalent of what we propose to urge later on all sedentary men, one where the proof comes directly from the gentleman's own pen, is that of the late mr. bryant, whose letter on the subject, written to a friend in 1871, will be found on page 169. with characteristic sturdiness, with no one to aid or guide him, he hit on a plan of work to be done, partly in his little home-gymnasium, and partly on the road, and stuck faithfully to it till well over fourscore, and at eighty-two he told the writer that he continued his exercise simply because it paid. his aim was to keep all his machinery in working order, and to prolong his life; and when he did die, at eighty-four, it was not from old age, not because his functions were worn out. with his usual vigor and energy when any writing was to be done, he had thrown himself into his work of preparing his address at the mazzini celebration, till, tired and exhausted, the undue exposure to the hot sun and the resulting fall were too much for him, and these were what took him away. but the plan here suggested will not only cover all he did, but more. bryant does not seem to have cared for erectness, nor for a harmonious development of all the muscles. but had the amount of work he took been so directed, he might in youth have attained that harmony, and maintained it through life, as vanderbilt maintained his erectness. 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, 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. footnotes: [h] "wear and tear," p. 54. chapter ix. some results of brief systematic exercise. in a country like ours, where the masses are so intelligent, where so much care is taken to secure what is called a good education, the ignorance as to what can be done to the body by a little systematic physical education is simply marvellous. few persons seem to be aware that any limb, or any part of it, can be developed from a state of weakness and deficiency to one of fulness, strength, and beauty, and that equal attention to all the limbs, and to the body as well, will work like result throughout. a man spends three or four weeks at the hay and grain harvest, and is surprised at the increased grip of his hands, and the new power of arm and back. he tramps through forests, and paddles up streams and lakes after game, and returns wondering how three or four miles on a level sidewalk could ever have tired him. an acquaintance of ours, an active and skilled journalist, says that he once set out to saw twenty cords of wood, he was a slight, weak youth. he found he had not enough strength or wind to get through one cut of a log--that he had to constantly sit down and rest. people laughed at him, and at his thinking he could go through that mighty pile. but they did not know what was in him; for, sticking gamely to his self-imposed task, he says that in a very few days he found his stay improving rapidly, that he did not tire half so easily, and, more than that, that there began to come a feeling over him--a most welcome one--of new strength in his arms and across his chest; and that what had at first looked almost an impossibility had now become very possible, and was before long accomplished. now, what he, by his manliness, found was fast doing so much for his arms and chest, was but a sample of what equally steady, systematic work might have done for his whole body. indeed, a later experience of this same gentleman will be in place here; for at dr. sargent's gymnasium in new york, in the winter of 1878-'79, he, though a middle-aged man, increased the girth of his chest _two inches and five-eighths in six weeks_! and this working but one hour a day; and he found that he could not only do more work daily afterward at his profession, but better work as well. the youth who works daily in a given line at the gymnasium as much expects that, before the year is over, not only will the muscles used decidedly increase in strength, but in size and shapeliness as well, as he does that the year's reading will improve his mind, or a year's labor bring him his salary. it is an every-day expression with him that such a fellow "got his arm up to" fifteen, or his chest to forty-odd inches, and so on. he sees nothing singular in this. he knows this one, who in a short time put half an inch on his forearm, or an inch; that one, whose thigh, or chest, or waist, or calf made equal progress. group and classify these gains in many cases, and note the amount of work and the time taken in each, and soon one can tell pretty well what can be done in this direction. few of our gymnasiums are so kept that their records will aid much in this inquiry, simply because the instructor either has no conception of the field before him, or, if he has, for some reason fails to improve the opportunity. look at what maclaren effected (as described by him in his admirable "physical education"), not with here and there an isolated case, but with both boys and men turned in on him by the hundred, and in all stages of imperfect development! take it first among the boys. under systematic exercise, w----, a boy at radley college, ten years old in june, 1861, had, seven years later, increased in height from 4 feet 6-3/4 inches to 5 feet 10-3/4 inches, or a gain of 16 inches in all; in weight from 66 pounds--light weight for a ten-year-old boy--to 156 pounds; far heavier than most boys at seventeen; showing an advance of 90 pounds. his forearm went from 7-1/4 to 11-3/4 inches--very large for a boy of seventeen, and decidedly above the average of that of most men; his upper arm from 7-1/2 inches to 13-3/8--also far above the average at that age; while his chest had actually increased in girth from 26 inches--which was almost slender, even for a ten-year-old--to 39-1/2 inches, which is all of two inches larger than the average man's. his description of this boy was: "height above average; other measurements average. from commencement, growth rapid, and sustained _with regular and uniform development_. the whole frame advancing to great physical power." another boy, h----, starting in june, 1860, when ten years old, 4 feet 6-1/4 inches high, and weighing 73 pounds--much heavier than the other at the start--in eight years gained 13-1/2 inches, making him 5 feet 7-3/4 inches--of medium height for that age. he gained 71 pounds in the eight years, and at 144 pounds was better built than w---at 156; for, though his forearm, starting at 8 inches, had become 11-1/2, a quarter of an inch less than w----'s, yet his upper arm had gone from 8-3/4 to 13-1/2 inches, or one-eighth of an inch larger, while his chest rose from 28-1/4 to 39 inches--within half an inch of the other's, though the latter was 3 inches taller. he is described: "height slightly above average; other measurements considerably above average. from commencement, _growth and development regular and continuous. the whole frame perfectly developed for this period of life._" s----'s case is far more remarkable. he was evidently very small and undersized. "height and all other measurements _greatly_ below average; the whole frame stunted and dwarfish. advancement at first slight, and very irregular. afterward rapid, and comparatively regular." he only gained in height three-quarters of an inch from thirteen to fourteen, where w---had gained 3-5/8 inches, and h---3-1/8 inches. yet, from fifteen to sixteen, where w---only went ahead half an inch, and h---five-eighths of an inch, s---actually gained 4 inches, which must have been most gratifying. his weight changes were even more noticeable. from twelve to fifteen w---gained 58 pounds, and h---39, while all s---could show was 12. but from fifteen to sixteen see how he caught up! where w----made 11 pounds, and h---10, s---made 22. where w----'s chest went up 1 inch, and h----'s 1-1/2 inches, s----'s went up 3 inches. now, how long did these boys work? as maclaren says "_just one hour per week!_" what parent believes that any hour in that week was better spent--better for the comfort, for the welfare of the boy, or better in fitting him for future usefulness--or what nearly so well? most boys waste that much time nearly every day. look, too, at the benefit to the boy in all his after-life. indeed, does not this hour a week, in some instances, insure an after-life, and snatch not a few from an early grave? had every slim, thin-chested man in america, and every slim, thin-chested boy who never lived to be a man, spent an hour weekly under such tutoring, from the age of ten to eighteen, would not the benefit to our land in working-power, in vigor and force, and comfort as well, have been incalculable? and had it, instead of one hour a week, been two or three, or even an hour a day, might not the results have been even more gratifying? professor maclaren may well congratulate himself on such good results among the boys. but what has he done with men? some years ago twelve non-commissioned officers, selected from all branches of the service, were sent to him to qualify as instructors for the british army. he says: "they ranged between nineteen and twenty-nine years of age, between five feet five inches and six feet in height, between nine stone two [128] pounds and twelve stone six [174] pounds in weight, and had seen from ten to twelve years' service." he carefully registered the measurements of each at the start, and at different times throughout their progress. he says: "the muscular additions to the arms and shoulders, and the expansion of the chest, were so great as to have absolutely a ludicrous and embarrassing result, for, before the fourth month, several of the men could not get into their uniforms, jackets, and tunics, without assistance, and when they had got them on they could not get them to meet down the middle by a hand's-breadth. in a month more they could not get into them at all, and new clothing had to be procured, pending the arrival of which the men had to go to and from the gymnasium in their great-coats. one of these men gained five inches in actual girth of chest." and he well adds: "now who shall tell the value of these five inches of chest, five inches of additional space for the heart and lungs to work in?" hardly five inches more of heart and lung room, though part of the gain must have been of course from the enlargement of the muscles on the side of the chest. he also hit upon another plan of showing the change; for he says he had them "photographed, stripped to the waist", both at first and when the four months were over, and the change even in these portraits was very distinct, and most notably in the youngest, who was nineteen, for, besides the acquisition of muscle, there was in his case "a readjustment and expansion of the osseous framework upon which the muscles are distributed." now let us look a little at the measurements and the actual changes wrought. in the first place, this last instance settles conclusively one matter most important to flat-chested youth, namely, whether the shape of the chest itself can be changed; for here it was done, and in a very short time at that. again, of these twelve men, in less than eight months every one gained perceptibly in height; indeed, there was an average gain of five-twelfths of an inch in height, though all, save one, were over twenty; and one man who gained half an inch was twenty-eight years old, while one twenty-six gained five-eighths of an inch! (most people suppose they can get no taller after twenty-one.) all increased decidedly in weight--the smallest gain being 5 pounds, the average 10 pounds; and one, and he twenty-eight, and a five-feet-eleven man, actually went up from 149 pounds at the beginning, to 165 pounds in less than four months. it is not likely there was much fat about them, as they had so much vigorous muscular exercise. every man's chest enlarged decidedly, the smallest gain being a whole inch in the four months, the average being 2-7/8 inches, and one, though twenty-four years old, actually gaining 5 inches, or over an inch a month. every upper arm increased 1 inch, most of them more than that, and one 1-3/4 inches. as the work was aimed to develop the whole body, there is little doubt that there was a proportional increase in the girth of hips and thigh and calf. again, from the royal academy at woolwich, professor maclaren took twenty-one youths whose average age was about eighteen, and in the brief period of four months and a half obtained an average advance of 1-3/4 pounds in weight, of 2-1/2 inches in chest, and of 1 inch on the upper arm; while one fellow, nineteen, and slender at that, gained 8 pounds in weight, and 5-1/4 inches about the chest! think what a difference that would make in the chest of any man, and a difference all in the right direction at that! but the most satisfactory statistics offered were those of two articled pupils, one sixteen, the other twenty. in exactly one year's work the younger grew from 5 feet 2-3/4 inches in height to 5 feet 4-3/4 inches. he weighed 108 pounds on his sixteenth birthday; on his seventeenth, 129! at the start his chest girthed 31 inches; twelve months later, just 36! his forearm went up from 8 inches to 10 inches, and his upper arm from 9-1/4 inches to 11-1/4. while the older gained but three-eighths of an inch in height, his weight went up from 153 pounds to 161-1/2, his forearm from 11-1/4 inches to 12-1/2--an unusually large forearm for any man--and his upper arm from 11-3/4 inches to 13-1/4, while his chest actually made the astonishing stride of from 34 inches to 40. not yet a large arm, save below the elbow, not yet a great chest; five inches smaller, for instance, than daniel webster's, but greatly ahead of what they were a year earlier. there is no mystery about the maclaren method. others might do it, perhaps not as well as he, for maclaren's has been a very exceptional experience; still, well enough. look what sargent did with a bowdoin student of nineteen, as shown in appendix iv. in four hours' work a week this student's upper arm went up 1-1/2 inches--just the same amount as did maclaren's student of twenty; his chest went up from 36-1/2 inches to 40, while that of maclaren's man went from 34 to 40; but it should be borne in mind that 36-1/2 is harder to add 6 inches to in this kind of work than 34. in height the englishman made three-eighths of an inch in the year, while the american made a whole inch. but the latter also led easily in another direction, and a very important one too; for, while the briton, though but a year older, and of almost exactly the same height, gained but 8-1/2 pounds in the year, the american made 15! his case is further valuable in that it shows, beside this advance above the waist, splendid increase in girth of hips, thigh, and calf as well. with us americans fond of results, many of whose chests, by-the-way, do not increase a hair's-breadth in twenty years, better proof could not be sought than these figures offer of the value of a system of exercise which would work such rapid and decided changes. had they all been with boys, there might have been difficulty in separating what natural growth did, in the years they change so fast, from what was the result of development. but most of the cases cited are of men who had their growth, and had apparently, to a large extent, taken their form and set for life. to take a man twenty-eight years old, tall and rather slim, and whose height had probably not increased a single hairs-breadth in seven years, and in a few short months increase that height by a good half inch; to take another, also twenty-eight, and suddenly, in the short period between september 11th and the 30th of the next april, add sixteen pounds to his weight, and every pound of excellent stuff, was in itself no light thing; and there are thousands of men in our land to-day who would be delighted to make an equally great addition to their general size and strength, even in twice the period. to add five whole inches of chest, and nearly that much of lung and heart room and stomach room, and the consequent greater capacity for all the vital organs, is a matter, to many men, of almost immeasurable value. hear dr. morgan, in his english "university oars," on this point: "an addition of three inches to the circumference of the chest implies that the lungs, instead of containing 250 cubic inches of air, as they did before their functional activity was exalted, are now capable of receiving 300 cubic inches within their cells: the value of this augmented lung accommodation will readily be admitted. suppose, for example, that a man is attacked by inflammation of the lungs, by pleurisy, or some one of the varied forms of consumption, it may readily be conceived that, in such an emergency, the possession of enough lung tissue to admit forty or fifty additional cubic inches of air will amply suffice to turn the scale on the side of recovery. it assists a patient successfully to tide over the critical stage of his disease." a man, then, of feeble lungs--the consumptive, for instance--taken early in hand, with the care which maclaren or sargent could so well give, gradually advanced in every direction, would suddenly find that his narrow, thin, and hollow chest had departed, had given way to one round, full, deep, and roomy; that the feeble lungs and heart which, in cooler weather, were formerly hardly up to keeping the extremities warm, are now strong and vigorous; that the old tendency to lean his head forward when standing or walking, and to sit stooping, with most of his vital organs cramped, has all gone. in their place had come an erect carriage, a firm tread, a strong, well-knit trunk, a manly voice, and a buoyancy and exhilaration of spirits worth untold wealth. who will say that all these have not assured him years of life? well, but did all this increase of weight and size actually change the shape of the chest, for instance, and take the hollowness out of it? that is exactly what it did; and maclaren has a drawing of the same chest at the beginning and end of the year, showing an increase in the breadth, depth, and fulness of the lower chest which makes it seem almost impossible that it could have belonged to the same person. it will be remembered that maclaren claimed[i] that just such a readjustment of the osseous framework would result. is not this, then, remaking a man? instead of a cramped stomach, half-used lungs, a thin, scrawny, caved-in make, poor pipe-stems of legs, with arms to match, almost every one under forty, at least, can in a very few months, by means of a series of exercises, change those same slender legs, those puny arms, that flat chest, that slim neck, and metamorphose their owner into a well-built, self-sufficient, vigorous man, fitter a hundred times for severe in-door or out-door life, for the quiet plodding at the desk, or the stormy days and nights of the ocean or the bivouac. who is going to do better brain-work: he whose brain is steadily fed with vigorous, rich blood, made by machinery kept constantly in excellent order, never cramped, aided daily by judicious and vigorous exercise, tending directly to rest and build him up? or he who overworks his brain, gets it once clogged with blood, and, for many hours of the day, keeps it clogged, who does nothing to draw the blood out of his brain for awhile and put more of it in the muscles, who, perhaps, in the very midst of his work, rushes out, dashes down a full meal, and hurries back to work, and at once sets his brain to doing well-nigh its utmost? well, but is not the work which will effect such swift changes very severe, and so a hazardous one to attempt? that is just what it is not. is there anything very formidable in wooden dumb-bells weighing only two and a half pounds each, or clubs of three and a half-pounds, or pulley-weights of from ten to fifteen pounds? or is any great danger likely to result from their use? and yet they were sargent's weapons with his bowdoin two hundred.[j] nothing in maclaren's work, so far as he points out what it is, is nearly so dangerous as a sudden run to boat or train, taken by one all out of the way of running, perhaps who has never learned. there a heart unused to swift work is suddenly forced to beat at a tremendous rate, lungs ordinarily half-used are strained to their utmost, and all without one jot of preparation. but here, by the most careful and judicious system, the result of long study and much practical application, a person is taken, and, by work exactly suited to his weak state, is gradually hardened and strengthened. then still more is given him to do, and so on, at the rate that is plainly seen to best suit him. develop every man's body by such a method, teach every american school-boy the erect carriage of the west pointer, and how many men among us would there be built after the pattern of the typical brother jonathan, or of the thin-chested, round-shouldered, inerect, and generally weak make, so common in nearly every city, town, and village in our land? look, too, at the knowledge such a course brings of the workings of one's own body, of its general structure, of its possibilities! what a lecture on the human body it must prove, and how it must fit the man to keep his strength up, and, if lost, to recover it; for it has uniformly been found that a man once strong needs but little work daily to keep him so. a little reflection on facts like the foregoing must point strongly to the conclusion that the body--at least of any one not yet middle-aged--admits of a variety and degree of culture almost as great as could be desired, certainly sufficient to make reasonably sure of a great accession of strength and health to a person formerly weak, and that with but a little time given each day to the work. footnotes: [i] see page 145. [j] see appendix ii. chapter x. work for the fleshy, the thin, the old. while the endeavor has been made to point out the value of plain and simple exercise--for, in a later chapter, particular work will be designated which, if followed systematically and persistently, will correct many physical defects, substituting good working health and vigor for weakness--the reply may be made, "yes, these are well enough for the young and active, but they will not avail a fleshy person, or a slim one, or one well up in years." let us see about this. take, first, those burdened with flesh which seems to do them little or no good, and which is often a hinderance, dulling and slackening their energies, preventing them from doing much which they could, and which they believe they would do with alacrity were they once freed from this unwelcome burden. there are some persons with whom the reduction of flesh becomes a necessity. they have a certain physical task to perform, and they know they cannot have either the strength or the wind to get through with it creditably, unless they first rid themselves of considerable superfluous flesh. take the man, for instance, who wants to walk a race of several miles, or to run or row one. he has often heard of men getting their weight down to a certain figure for a similar purpose. he has seen some one who did it, and he is confident that he can do it. he sets about it, takes much and severe physical work daily, warmly clad, perspiring freely, while he subjects his skin to much friction from coarse towels. he does without certain food which he understands makes fat, and only eats that which he believes makes mainly bone and muscle. he sticks to his work, and gradually makes that work harder and faster. to his gratification, he finds that not only has his wind improved, so that, in the place of the old panting after a slight effort--walking briskly up an ordinary flight of stairs, for instance--he can now breathe as easily and quietly, and can stick to it as long, as any of his leaner companions. by race-day he is down ten, fifteen, or twenty pounds, or even more, as the case may be. while he has thus reduced himself, and is far stronger and more enduring than he was before, he is not the only one who has lost flesh, if there have been a number working with him, as in a boat-crew. notice the lists of our university crews and their weights, published when they commence strict training, say a month before the race, and compare them with those of the same men on race-day, particularly in hot weather. the reduction is very marked all through the crew. in the english university eights it is even more striking, the large and stalwart fellows, who fill their thwarts, often coming down in a month an average of over a dozen pounds per man. we have seen a student, after weighing himself on scales in the gymnasium, sit down at a fifty-five pound rowing weight, pull forty-five full strokes a minute for twenty minutes, then, clad exactly as before, weigh again on the same scales, and find he was just one pound lighter than he was twenty minutes earlier. but the difference is more marked in more matured men, who naturally run to flesh, than in students. a prize-fighter, for instance, in changing from a life of indulgence and immoderate drinking, will often come down as much as thirty, or even forty pounds, in preparing for his contest. it should be remembered that, besides other advantages of his being thin, it is of great importance that his face should be so lean that a blow on his cheek shall not puff it up, and swell it so as to shut up his eye, and put him at his enemy's mercy. but most people do not care to take such severe and arduous work as either the amateur athlete or the prize-fighter. if they could hit on some comparatively light and easy way of restoring themselves physically to a hard-muscle basis, and could so shake off their burden of flesh without interfering seriously with their business, they would be glad to try it. let us see if this can be done. in the summer of 1877 the writer met a gentleman of middle age, whom he had known for years, and who has been long connected with one of the united states departments in new york city. a very steady, hard-working officer, his occupation was a sedentary one. remembering him as a man, till recently, of immense bulk, and being struck with his evident and great shrinkage, we inquired if he had been ill. he replied that he had not been ill, that for years he had not enjoyed better health. questioning him as to his altered appearance, he said that, on the eighteenth day of january, 1877, he weighed three hundred and five pounds; that, having become so unwieldy, his flesh was a source of great hinderance and annoyance to him. then he had determined, if possible, to get rid of some of it. having to be at work all day, he could only effect his purpose in the evenings, or not at all. so, making no especial change in his diet, he took to walking, and soon began to average from three to five miles an evening, and at the best pace he could make. in the cold months he says that he often perspired so that small icicles would form on the ends of his hair. asking if it did not come a little stiff sometimes, on stormy nights or when he was very tired, and whether he did not omit his exercise at such times, he said no, but, on the contrary, added two miles, which shows the timber the man was made of. on the eighteenth of june of the same year, just five months from the start, he weighed but two hundred and fifteen pounds, _having actually taken off ninety pounds_, and had so altered that his former clothes would not fit him at all. since that time we have again seen him, and he says he is now down to two hundred, and that he has taken to horseback-riding, as he is fond of that. he looks to-day a large, strong, hearty man of about five feet ten, of rather phlegmatic temperament, but no one would ever think of him as a fat man. now here is a man well known to hundreds of the lawyers of the new york bar, a living example of what a little energy and determination will accomplish for a person who sets about his task as if he meant to perform it. during the war, m----, a member of the boston police force, known to the writer, was said to weigh three hundred and fifteen pounds, and was certainly an enormously large man. he went south, served for some time as stoker on a gunboat, and an intimate friend of his informed us that he had reduced his weight to one hundred and eighty-four. a girl of fifteen or sixteen, and inclined to be fleshy, found that, by a good deal of horseback-riding daily, she lost twenty-five pounds in one year--so a physician familiar with her case informed us. brisk walking, and being on the feet much of the day--as americans, for instance, find it necessary to do when they try to see the parisian galleries and many other of europe's attractions all in a very few weeks--will tell decidedly on the weight of fleshy people, and dispose them to move more quickly. when you can do it, this is perhaps not such a bad way to reduce yourself. now, if so many have found that vigorous muscular exercise, taken daily and assiduously, accomplished the desired end for them, does it not look as if a similar course, combined with a little strength of purpose, would bring similar benefit to others? in any case, such a course has this advantage: begun easily, and followed up with gradually increasing vigor, it will be sure to tone up and strengthen one, and add to the spring and quickness of movement, whether it reduces one's flesh or not. but it is a sort of work where free perspiration must be encouraged, not hindered, for this is plainly a prominent element in effecting the desired purpose. but, while many of us know instances where fat people have, by exercise, been reduced to a normal weight, is it possible for a thin person to become stouter? a thin person may have a large frame or a slender one. is there any work which will increase the weight of each, and bring desirable roundness and plumpness of trunk and limb? take, first, the slim man. follow him for a day, or even an hour, and you will usually find that, while often active--indeed, too active--still he does no work which a person of his height need be really strong to do. put him beside such a person who is not merely large, but really strong and in equally good condition, and correspondingly skilful, and let the two train for an athletic feat of some sort--row together, for instance, or some other work where each must carry other weight in addition to his own. the first mile they can go well together, and one will do about as much as the other. but as the second wears along, the good strength begins to tell; and the slim man, while, perhaps, sustaining his form pretty well, and going through the motions, is not quite doing the work, and his friend is gradually drawing away from him. at the third mile the disparity grows very marked, and the stronger fellow has it all his own way, while at the end he also finds that he has not taken as much out of him as his slender rival. he has had more to carry, both in his boat's greater weight, and especially in his own, but his carrying power was more than enough to make up for the difference. measure the slim man where you will, about his arm or shoulders, chest or thigh or calf, and the other outmeasures him; the only girth where he is up, and perhaps ahead, is that of his head--for thin fellows often have big heads. the muscles of the stronger youth are larger as well as stronger. now, take the slim fellow, and set him to making so many efforts a day with any given muscle or muscles, say those of his upper left arm, for instance. put some reward before him which he would like greatly to have--say a hundred thousand dollars--if in one year from date he will increase the girth of that same upper left arm two honest inches. now, watch him, if he has any spirit and stuff, as thin fellows very often have, and see what he does. insist, too, that whatever he does shall in no way interfere with his business or regular duties, whatever they may be, but that he must find other time for it. and what will he do? why, he will leave no stone unturned to find just what work uses the muscles in question, and at that work he will go, with a resolution which no obstacle will balk. he is simply showing the truth of emerson's broad rule, that "in all human action those faculties will be strong which are used;" and of maclaren's, "where the activity is, there will be the development." the new work flushes the muscles in question with far more blood than before, while the wear and tear being greater, the call for new material corresponds, and more and more hearty food is eaten and assimilated. the quarter-inch or more of gain the first fortnight often becomes the whole inch in less than two months, and long before the year is out the coveted two inches have come. and, in acquiring them, his whole left arm and shoulder have had correspondingly new strength added, quite going past his right, though it was the larger at first, if meanwhile he has practically let it alone. there are some men, either at the college or city gymnasiums, every year, who are practically getting to themselves such an increase in the strength and size of some particular muscles. we knew one at college who, on entering, stood hardly five feet four, weighed but about one hundred and fifteen pounds, and was small and rather spare. for four years he worked with great steadiness in the gymnasium, afoot and on the water, and he graduated a five-foot-eight man, splendidly built, and weighing a hundred and sixty-eight pounds--every pound a good one, for he was one of the best bow-oarsmen his university ever saw. another, tall and very slender, but with a large head and a very bright mind, was an habitual fault-finder at everything on the table, no matter if it was fit for a prince. a friend got him, for awhile, into a little athletic work--walking, running, and sparring--until he could trot three miles fairly, and till one day he walked forty-five--pretty well used up, to be sure, but he walked it. well, his appetite went up like a rocket. where the daintiest food would not tempt him before, he would now promptly hide a beefsteak weighing a clean pound at a meal, and that no matter if cooked in some roadside eating-house, where nothing was neat or tidy, and flies abounded almost as they did once in egypt in pharaoh's day. his friends frequently spoke of his improved temper, and how much easier it was to get on with him. but after a while his efforts slackened, and his poor stomach returned to its old vices, at least in part. had he kept at what was doing so much for him, it would have continued to prove a many-sided blessing. if steady and vigorous use of one set of muscles gradually increases their size, why should not a similar allowance, distributed to each, do the same for all? see (appendix v.) what it did in four months and twelve days for maclaren's pupil of nineteen, whose upper arm not only gained a whole inch and a half (think how that would add to the beauty alone of many a woman's arm, to say nothing of its strength), and whose chest enlarged five inches and a quarter, _but whose weight went up eight pounds_! or what it did (see appendix iv.) for sargent's pupil of nineteen, who in just one year, besides making an inch and a half of upper arm, and three and a half of chest, went up from a hundred and forty-five pounds to a hundred and sixty, or _a clean gain of fifteen pounds_. or (see appendix vi.) for maclaren's man, fully twenty-eight years old, who, in seven months and nineteen days, made _sixteen pounds_; or (appendix vii.) for his youth of sixteen, who in just one year increased his weight _full twenty-one pounds_! these facts certainly show pretty clearly whether sensible bodily exercise, taken regularly, and aimed at the weak spots, will not tell, and tell pretty rapidly, on the thin man wanting to stouten, and tell, too, in the way he wants. it will make one eat heartily, it will make him sleep hard and long. every ounce of the food is now digested, and the long sleep is just what he needed. indeed, if, after a hearty dinner, a man would daily take a nap, and later in the day enough hard work to make sure of being thoroughly tired when bedtime came, he would doubtless find the flesh coming in a way to which he was a stranger. many thin persons do not rest enough. they are constantly on the go, and the lack of phlegm in their make-up rather increases this activity, though they do not necessarily accomplish more than those who take care to sit and lie still more. the writer, at nineteen, spent four weeks on a farm behind the catskills, in delaware county, new york. it was harvest-time, and, full of athletic ardor, and eager to return to college the better for the visit, we took a hand with the men. all the farm-hands were uniformly on the field at six o'clock in the morning, and it would average nearly or quite eight at night before the last load was snugly housed away in the mow. it was sharp, hard work all day long, with a tough, wiry, square-loined fellow in the leading swath all the morning. but to follow him we were bound to or drop, while the pitchfork or rake never rested from noon till sunset. breakfast was served at five-thirty; dinner at eleven; supper at four; and a generous bowl of bread-and-milk--or two bowls, if you wanted them--at nine o'clock, just before bedtime, with plenty of spring-water between meals; while the fare itself was good and substantial, just what you would find on any well-to-do farmer's table. and such an appetite, and such sleep! solomon must have tried some similar adventure when he wrote that "the sleep of the laboring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much." well, when we returned to college and got on the scales again, the one hundred and forty-three pounds at starting had somehow become a hundred and fifty-six! and with them such a grip, and such a splendid feeling! we have rowed many a race since, but there was as hard work done by some of that little squad on that old mountain farm as any man in our boat ever did, and there was not much attention paid to any one's training rules either. it is notorious, among those used to training for athletic contests, that thin men, if judiciously held in, and not allowed to do too much work, generally "train up," or gain decidedly in weight, almost as much, in fact, as the fleshy ones lose. now, were the object simply to train up as much as possible, unusual care could be taken to insure careful and deliberate eating, with a generous share of the fat and flesh making sorts of food, and quiet rest always for awhile after each meal, to aid the digestive organs at their work. slow, deep, abdominal breathing is a great ally to this latter process; indeed, works direct benefit to many of the vital organs, and so to the whole man. all the sleep the man can possibly take at night would also tell in the right way. so would everything that would tend to prevent fret and worry, or which would cultivate the ability to bear them philosophically. but most thin people do not keep still enough, do not take matters leisurely, and do not rest enough; while, if their work is muscular, they do too much daily in proportion to their strength. they are very likely also to be inerect, with flat, thin chests, and contracted stomach and abdomen. now the habit of constantly keeping erect, whether sitting, standing, or walking, combined with this same deep, abdominal breathing, soon tends to expand not only the lower ribs and lower part of the lungs, but the waist as well, so giving the digestive organs more room and freer play. like the lungs, or any other organ, they do their work best when in no way constrained. better yet, if the person will also habituate himself, no matter what he is at, whether in motion or sitting still, to not only breathing the lower half of the lungs full, but the whole lungs as well, and at each inspiration hold the air in his chest as long as he comfortably can, he will speedily find a quickened and more vigorous circulation, which will be shown, for instance, by the veins in his hands becoming larger, and the hands themselves growing warmer if the air be cold; he will also feel a mild and agreeable exhilaration such as he has seldom before experienced. some of these are little things, and for that reason they are the easier to do; but in this business, as in many others, little things often turn the scale. of two brothers, equally thin, equally over-active, as much alike as possible--if one early formed these simple habits of slow and thorough mastication, deep and full breathing, resting awhile after meals, carrying his body uniformly erect, and sleeping plentifully, and his brother all the while cared for none of these things, it is highly probable that these little attentions would, in a few years, tell very decidedly in favor of him who practised them, and gradually bring to him that greater breadth, depth, and serenity, and the accompanying greater weight of the broad, full, and hearty man. and what about the old people? take a person of sixty. you don't want him to turn gymnast, surely. no; not to turn gymnast, but to set aside a small portion of each day for taking such body as he or she now has, and making the best of it. but how can that be done? and is it practicable at all for a person sixty years old, or more? well, let us see what one, not merely sixty, but eighty, and more too, had to say on this point. shortly after the death of the late william cullen bryant, the new york _evening post_, of which he had long been editor, published in its semi-weekly issue of june 14th, 1878, the following letter: "mr. bryant's mode of life. "the following letter, written by mr. bryant several years ago, describing the habits of his life, to which he partly ascribed the wonderful preservation of his physical and mental vigor, will be read with interest now: "'new york, march 30, 1871. "_'to joseph h. richards, esq._: "'my dear sir,--i promised some time since to give you some account of my habits of life, so far at least as regards diet, exercise, and occupations. i am not sure that it will be of any use to you, although the system which i have for many years observed seems to answer my purpose very well. i have reached a pretty advanced period of life, _without the usual infirmities of old age_, and with my strength, activity, and bodily faculties generally, in pretty good preservation. how far this may be the effect of my way of life, adopted long ago and steadily adhered to, is perhaps uncertain. "'i rise early; at this time of the year about half-past five; in summer, half an hour or even an hour earlier. immediately, with very little encumbrance of clothing, i begin a series of exercises, for the most part designed to expand the chest, and at the same time call into action all the muscles and articulations of the body. these are performed with dumb-bells, the very lightest, covered with flannel, with a pole, a horizontal bar, and a light chair swung around my head. after a full hour, and sometimes more, passed in this manner, i bathe from head to foot. when at my place in the country, i sometimes shorten my exercises in the chamber, and, going out, occupy myself for half an hour or more in some work which requires brisk exercise. after my bath, if breakfast be not ready, i sit down to my studies till i am called. * * * * * "'after breakfast i occupy myself for awhile with my studies, and then, when in town, i walk down to the office of the _evening post, nearly three miles distant_, and, after about three hours, return, always walking, _whatever be the weather or the state of the streets_. in the country, i am engaged in my literary tasks till a feeling of weariness drives me out into the open air, and i go upon my farm or into the garden and prune the fruit-trees, or perform some other work about them which they need, and then go back to my books. i _do not often drive out, preferring to walk_. * * * * * "'i am, sir, truly yours, "'w.c. bryant.'" the same paper also contained the following: "reminiscences of a former business associate. "mr. william g. boggs, who knew mr. bryant intimately for many years, has given the following reminiscences to a representative of the _evening post_: "'during the _forty years that i have known him, mr. bryant has never been ill--never been confined to his bed, except on the occasion of his last accident. his health has always been good_. "'mr. bryant was a great walker. in earlier years he would think nothing of walking to paterson falls and back, with alfred pell and james lawson, after office hours. _he always walked from his home to his place of business, even in his eighty-fourth year._ at first he wouldn't ride in the elevator. he would never wait for it, if it was not ready for the ascent immediately on his arrival in the building. of gymnastic exercises he was very fond. every morning, for half an hour, he would go through a series of evolutions on the backs of two chairs placed side by side. he would hang on the door of his bedroom, pulling himself up and down an indefinite number of times. he would skirmish around the apartment after all fashions, and once he told me even "_under the table_." breakfast followed, then a walk down town; and then _he was in the best of spirits_ for the writing of his editorial article for that day. * * * * * "'he was a constant student. his daily leading editorial constituted, and was for many years, the _evening post_. sometimes he would not get it written until one o'clock. "can't i have it earlier?" i asked him one day. "why not write it the evening before?" "ah," he replied, "if i should empty out the keg in that way, it would soon be exhausted." he wanted his evenings for study. "well, then, can't you get down earlier in the morning?" he said, "oh yes." a few months afterward he exclaimed, with reference to the change: "i like it. _i go through my gymnastics, walk all the way down_, and when i get here i feel like work. i like it."'" mr. boggs also tells us that mr. bryant's sight and hearing were scarcely impaired even up to his death. how remarkable these facts seem! here a man, known to the whole civilized world, says at seventy-seven that he "has reached a pretty advanced period of life without the usual infirmities of old age, and with his strength, activity, and bodily faculties generally in pretty good preservation." wouldn't most of us like to do that? are there not men who would promptly give millions, not "for an inch of time," but to be able to reach seventy-seven, and to say of themselves what mr. bryant could say of himself at that age? nor at seventy-seven only, but at eighty-four, for his friend tells the same thing of him then. and notice what he did: "every morning," not for two or three minutes only, but "for half an hour, he would go through a series of evolutions on the backs of two chairs placed side by side." the "dips" which have been recommended in another place,[k] and which are so excellent for making the chest strong and keeping it so, are doubtless the "evolutions" meant; and as the great majority of men, whether young or old, have not strength of triceps and pectorals enough to even struggle through one of them, some conception can be formed of how wonderfully wiry and strong this large-headed, spare-bodied, illustrious old man was, to say nothing of the strength of purpose which would keep him so rigidly up to his work at an age when most men would have thought it their unquestionable duty to coddle themselves. just think of a man over eighty "pulling himself up and down"--evidently on the "horizontal bar" he mentions--"an indefinite number of times!" or "always walking" down to the office of the _evening post_, nearly three miles distant, and, after three hours, return, always walking, whatever be the weather or the state of the streets! or of never waiting for the elevator if it was not ready, but always walking up the _nine flights_ from the street to his office! and the writer has often seen him going up the top flight, and, instead of his step being faltering and feeble, it was uniformly _a trot_! see what two other old men did--in some ways even a more remarkable thing than mr. bryant's great activity. the following despatch is from the _new york herald_ of february 23d, 1879: "the old men's walk. "new haven, conn., feb. 22, 1879. "the walk between thomas carey, of the new york cotton exchange, and joseph y. marsh, of this city, terminated to-night at a quarter of an hour before the appointed time, marsh withdrawing. carey had walked 211 miles and a fraction, to 209 miles and a corresponding fraction for marsh. after the walk marsh said that he was convinced that he had been beaten, and carey made a speech expressing satisfaction with the manner in which he had been treated. the walk began on wednesday of the present week, at eleven o'clock, and terminated at forty-five minutes past ten to-night. carey is a great-grandfather, and is sixty-four years old, and marsh sixty-three. both had trained for the walk. it is understood that they will walk again in new york." sixty miles a day for three days and a half, and by a great-grandfather at that! any man, or any horse, might well hold that a good day's work. this activity among men so far on in years seems surprising. and why? because, as people get past middle-life, often from becoming engrossed in business, and out of the way of anything to induce them to continue their muscular activity, oftener from increasing caution, and fear that some effort, formerly easy, may now prove hazardous to them, they purposely avoid even ordinary exercise--riding when they might, and indeed ought to, walk, and, instead of walking their six miles a day, and looking after their arms and chests besides, as bryant did, gradually come to do nothing each day worthy of the name of exercise. then the joints grow dry and stiff, and snap and crack as they work. the old ease of action is gone, and disinclination takes its place. the man makes up his mind that he is growing old and stiff--often before he is sixty--and that there is no help for that stiffness. well, letting the machinery alone works a good deal the same whether it is made of iron and steel, and driven by steam, or of flesh and blood and bones, and driven by the human heart. maclaren cleverly compares this stiffening of the joints to the working of hinges, which, when "left unused and unoiled for any length of time, grate and creak, and move stiffly. the hinges of the human body do just the same thing, and from the same cause; and they not only require frequent oiling to enable them to move easily, but they _are_ oiled every time they are put in motion, _and when they are put in motion only_. the membrane which secretes this oil, and pours it forth over the opposing surfaces of the bones and the overlying ligaments, is stimulated to activity only by the motion of the joint itself." had bryant spared himself as most men do, would he have been such a springy, easy walker, and so strong and handy at eighty-four? does it not look as if the half-hour at the dumb-bells, and chairs, and horizontal bar, and the twelve or fifteen thousand steps which he took each day, had much to do with this spring and activity in such a green old age? does it not look almost as if he had, half a century ago, read something not unlike the following from maclaren: "the first course of the system may be freely and almost unconditionally recommended to men throughout what may be called middle life, care being taken to use a bell and bar well within the physical capacity. the best time for this practice is in the early morning, immediately after the bath, and, when regularly taken, it need not extend over more than a few minutes." whether bryant had ever seen these rules or not, the bell, the bar, and the morning-time for exercise make a noticeable coincidence. looking at the benefit daily exercise brought in the instances mentioned, would it not be well for every man who begins to feel his age to at once adopt some equally moderate and sensible course of daily exercise, and to enter on it with a good share of his own former energy and vigor? he does not need to live in the country to effect it, nor in the city. he can readily secure the few bits of apparatus suggested elsewhere[l] for his own home, wherever that home is, and so take care of his arms and chest. for foot-work there is always the road. is it not worth while to make the effort? he can begin very mildly, and yet in a month reach quite a creditable degree of activity, and then keep that up. and if, as mr. bryant did, he should last till well past eighty, and, like him, keep free from deafness and dimness of vision, from stiffness and shortness of breath, from gout, rheumatism, paralysis, and other senile ailments, as he put it himself, "without the usual infirmities of old age"--indeed, with his "strength, activity, and bodily faculties generally in pretty good preservation," and all that time could attend promptly to all the daily duties of an active business as he did, as vanderbilt did, as palmerston did, as thiers did--is not the effort truly worth the making? and who knows what he can do till he tries? footnotes: [k] see page 240. [l] see page 91. chapter xi. half-trained firemen and police. there are two classes of men in our cities and larger towns who, more than almost any others, need daily and systematic bodily exercise, in order to make them efficient for their duties, and something like what men in their lines ought to be. in times of peace they do in many ways what the army does for the whole country in war-time--they protect life and property. these are the police and firemen. the work of some of the firemen before they reach a fire is even more dangerous than when actually among the flames. the examining physician of one of our largest life insurance companies told the writer that he frequently had to reject firemen applying for insurance, because they had seriously injured their hearts by running hard to fires when quite untrained and unfit for such sudden and severe strain on the heart and lungs, imposed, as it usually is, under much excitement. the introduction of steam fire-engines has in part done away with this, though even they often have a man to run before and clear the way; but in smaller places, of course, the old danger exists. thorough and efficient as this steam-service is in many ways, and trained as the men are to their duties, they are, very many of them, not nearly so effective as they might easily be, and as, considering the fact that the fireman's work is their sole occupation, they ought to be. men of pluck and daring, and naturally strong, often for days together they have no fire to go to, and so sit and stand around the engine-house for hours and hours. soon they begin to fatten, until often they weigh thirty or forty pounds more than they would in good condition for enduring work. having no daily exercise which gives all parts of the body increased life and strength, neither the stout nor thin ones begin to be so strong, so quick of movement, or enduring as they would be if kept in good condition. to carry from an upper story of a high building a person in a swoon or half suffocated, and to get such a burden safely down a long narrow ladder through stifling smoke and terrible flame, is a feat requiring, beside great nerve and courage, decided strength and endurance. exposure during long periods, perhaps drenched through, perhaps holding up a heavy hose in the winter's cold, or in many another duty all firemen well know, often without food or drink for many hours, taxes very severely even the strongest man. and what training have these men for this trying work outside of what the fire itself actually gives? practically, none. suppose every man on the force was required to spend an hour, or even half an hour, daily in work which would call into play not all their muscles, but simply those likely to be most needed when the real work came. suppose each of them a wiry, hard-muscled, very enduring man, good any day for a three or five mile run at a respectable pace, and without detriment to himself, or to go, if need be, hand over hand up the entire length of one of their long ladders--to be, in short, as strong, as handy, as enduring, as even a second-rate athlete. is there any question that a force made up of such men would be far better qualified for their work, and far more efficient at it, than the firemen of any of our cities are now? and if they think they at present have considerable daily exercise, so does a british soldier decidedly more, in his daily drilling, and the whole round of his duties; and yet, after maclaren had one of them exercising for but a brief period, but in a way to bring up his general strength, the soldier said, "i feel twice the man i did for anything a man could be set to do." would it hurt a fireman or a policeman any to have that feeling? would the latter not be more inclined to rely on his own strength, and less on his club? if the training suggested seems too hard, look at the younger men in blacksmithing, for instance, and many other kinds of iron-work, swinging, as they often do, a heavy sledge for the whole day together; at the postmen, walking from morning to evening, often up many flights of stairs, and all the year round, and in all weathers; at the iron-puddler, the hod-carrier, the 'longshoreman--all at work nearly or quite as hard, not for one short hour only, but through all the burden and heat of the day. many of these men are not nearly as well paid as the firemen, and none of them begin to have as great responsibility, or are at any moment likely to be called on to take their lives in their hands, and perhaps to save other lives as well. let us look at the policeman. what exercise has he? standing around, and considerable slow walking, for six hours out of each twelve. is there anything to make him swift of foot? no. anything to build up his arms and expand his chest, to make those arms help him in his business, and those hands twice as skilful for his purposes as before? very little. taught to use his hands he is, but never empty; there must be something in them--a club or a revolver. and so comes what legitimate result? why is it that in a conflict, or even a threatened one--or, too often, not even then--and when the culprit, while drunk, is wholly unresisting, we constantly hear of these dangerous weapons being drawn and freely used? some of the very men set to preserve the peace are themselves every now and then making assaults wholly uncalled for, always cowardly, and often brutal, and such as an athletic man, proud of his strength, would have scorned the idea of making, but, instead, would have so quickly displayed his skill and strength that the average offender, especially when he recalled the fact that the officer had the law on his side, would have soon ceased resisting. every intelligent new yorker will at one recognize that there is far too frequently good ground for such editorial comment, grim as is its satire, as the following from a well-known new york journal, of september 20th, 1878: "a complicated police case. "we have recorded from time to time in the t---various interesting police cases. with all our skill and experience, however, we could not prevent a shade of monotony stealing over them. when in nine cases out of ten the picture presented is that of a policeman clubbing a man nearly to death, by what resource of rhetoric can you avoid monotony? for the sake of variety, as well as for the public good, many people wish that a citizen would occasionally kill a brutal policeman; only that, in thus ridding the world of a human brute not worthy to live in it, the mockery that is called justice in new york and brooklyn would probably also send out of the world the inoffensive citizen who had accomplished the good work. in a recent case, however, matters have become most ingeniously complicated. one policeman has arrested another. on tuesday night two men got into a fight in the bowery. detective archibald, who was in plain clothes, undertook, it is said, to arrest them. then, it is stated, officer lefferts arrived, and arrested the whole party, detective and all. we say that this is a complicated case; but so it did not seem to justice morgan, of the jefferson market police court. if a policeman arrests a citizen, it is no longer possible for the latter to get justice. he is glad if he can get away with a whole skull and unbroken ribs. but one policeman arresting another! the only way in which this can be set right depends upon which policeman had the most influence at head-quarters." and what sort of man is he who is thus too free with his weapon? take him in new york city, for instance. out of nearly twenty-five hundred policemen, it is entirely safe to say that one-third--and it would probably be much nearer the truth to say that all of two-thirds--are unathletic men, and that a very large proportion of these are either clumsy, unwieldy, and short-winded, or not possessed of even average bodily strength. even in their uniforms this is quickly apparent; but the true way to judge is to see them stripped, either in gymnastic costume or at the swimming-bath. any number of them have indifferent legs; there are any number of stout, paunchy fellows; and old ones, too, doubling over with their years; flat-chested ones, big-footed and half-built men. try to select some of these men for a physical feat, say of speed and endurance, like running or rowing, and see how few would be fit for the work. pair them off, give them gloves, and set them to boxing, and there would scarce be one hundred good sparrers out of the whole brigade. once, right in front of trinity church-yard, on broadway, we saw two of the broadway squad put up their hands for a little good-natured sparring, and the way they did it would hardly have been creditable to a ten-year-old. to see two great, hulking six-footers, ignorant of the first rudiments of good sparring, actually whirling their fists round and round each other as if winding yarn, and with no sort of idea how to use even one hand, let alone two, was positively ridiculous. a hundred-pound thief, handy with his fists and quick of foot, could have slapped their faces, and, if they could run no better than they sparred, could have been at the battery before either of them was half-way. and what good would their weapons have been? their revolvers they would hardly dare to use in a crowded street at broad noon, nor would they have been justified in so doing. and their clubs--of what use would they be if the culprit was a block away? the writer once saw a fellow, apparently a sneak-thief, cutting across the city hall park, in front of the _tribune_ building, at a clipping pace, while some distance behind came one of those majestic but logy guardians of the peace, making about one foot to the other's two, and, finally, seeing how hopeless was the pursuit, bringing his club around and throwing it after the escaping thief--and with what result? excellent for the thief, for, instead of coming anywhere near him, it passed dangerously close to the abdomen of a worthy but obese citizen, who chanced to be passing that way. at a public exhibition, held early in 1878, under the auspices of these very metropolitan police, at the hippodrome, in new york, where doubtless the very best boxers on the whole force were on the boards, and with ten thousand spectators to spur them on to their utmost, the thoroughly skilful and accomplished workmen could be counted almost on the thumbs; while, in the tug of war, the string of policemen were overhauled and pulled completely down by the scottish americans, who weighed half a hundred weight less per man than their uniformed antagonists; though it is but just to add that, later on, the latter did manage to win, yet what was that to brag of? the same police department held a regatta on the harlem river on the twenty-ninth of august, 1878, for which there were many entries; yet out of them all with one or two exceptions, there was no performance which was not of the most commonplace character, unworthy of an average freshman crew, and this though many of the rowers were burly, heavy men. one of the single-scullers actually did not know how to back his boat over some fifty feet of water, and, after four ineffectual endeavors, had to be told how to do so from the referee's boat. now place the whole force abreast on a broad common, or in half a dozen lines, and set them to run a mile at no racing pace; at no such gait even as john ennis went in march, 1879, when, after 474 miles of walking and running in one single week, he ran his 475th mile in six minutes eleven seconds, but let them go at even a horse-car pace; and if five hundred get over even half the distance it will be a surprise, while of those who do, many stand a good chance to feel the effects for days, if not for life. we asked the best known police captain in new york city, the president of the old police athletic club, whether he thought one-half of the whole twenty-five hundred could run a mile at any pace which could actually be called a run. after deliberating a little, he said he did not think they could. one of the most successful athletes on the force, in reply to the same question, said: "i'll bet my neck against a purse that not one-third of them can do it." another, a magnificent-looking man, standing over six feet three in height, and weighing upward of two hundred and fifty, not only strongly inclined to the same opinion, but, when urged to tell how successful he himself would probably be in such a trial, he gave, with a little sudden color in his cheeks, substantially as follows, this most interesting incident from his own experience: standing in a rear room on the main floor of the station-house of the ---precinct, he heard a scream. going quickly to the street, a lady told him that she had been robbed of her pocket-book, while a young person gliding gracefully, and, as the sequel proved, quite fleetly, around the corner, lent force to the statement. away went the engine of the law, his mighty form bending to the work, with his best foot foremost. turning up one of the broad avenues, the one hundred and twenty-five feet or so of the thief's start had now shrunk to seventy-five, and, as the two sped on at a grand pace, "all and each that passed that way enjoyed the swift 'pursuit.'" block after block was passed, but the gap would not close. go as he would, do his mightiest and his best, it was of no use; that lawless young man would somehow all the time manage to keep just seventy-five feet to the fore. four blocks are now done, and so is the policeman; and bringing up all-standing--blown, gasping, exhausted--he cannot even muster breath enough to shout, but, reaching his big hand out in front of him, and looking at the young person gently fleeting, with seemingly unabated vigor, into the dim distance, he sadly points to him, for that is all he is just now equal to. fortunately for the interests of justice and good order, that point is well taken, for a brother officer sees it, and, rising to the occasion, dashes off after the misguided young person up the avenue. "life is earnest" now, surely, for the latter. still he has nearly a hundred feet start, and maybe this second guardian of the peace will not stay any better than did his illustrious predecessor. so down to it he settles again, and the street enjoys the fun. block after block slips away, and so does the official wind, for, at the end of four blocks more, no perceptible decrease of the gap having yet been made, patrolman number two "shuts up." yes, literally, for he too cannot even yell, but, like the first, striking a tragic position, he points to the flying culprit. and is justice to be cheated out of her victim after all, even now, when she a second time is sure that she has reached the point? and is this light-fingered and light-heeled young person to escape the minions of the law--and all this in broad daylight too, and right on sixth avenue? so it certainly seems. but stop! justice, after all, is to prevail, for lo! a third pursuer has now caught the trail, and is off like a fast mail-train. have a care now, young man! no brass buttons adorn your pursuer this time; but the self-appointed private citizen, now in your wake, runs as the wicked flee. there is no cart-horse pace about his work; but with one clean, business-like spurt, he swoops down on the now disturbed young man, and, clutching his upper garments, holds him neatly until the reserves come up, and then hands him over for his six months on the island." one more illustration may suffice. the _new york herald_ of december 20th, 1878, referring to a burglary which had been committed in the 28th precinct, said that suspicion fastened on a young man known as "sleepy dick." detective wilson got on the supposed offender's trail, and the nearer he got to him the worse grew his character for strength, daring, and ferocity. at last he came up with "sleepy dick" on second avenue yesterday. "'the jig's up, sleepy,' said the detective; 'you're wanted.' "'what for?' calmly inquired the other, straightening upon the coal-box. "'cracking a crib.' "'how long a stretch?' "'a fiver, sure.' "'i'm not your meat then, cully,' and dick bolted for the corner with no sleepiness about him. wilson grabbed him firmly by the collar, though, and there was a scene of plunging and tearing witnessed by the crowd around them that eclipsed cornwall or grã¦co-roman wrestling. "suddenly a revolver came flashing out of wilson's pocket. "'i'm taking this pot,' said he, coolly. "'show your hand,' growled 'sleepy.' "'a straight flush;' and wilson levelled the pistol at his head. "'that takes this pile,' dick sullenly assented, and he moved on quietly as far as sixty-first street. once at the corner, he plunged backward and broke loose. the detective's revolver came down on his head with a thud, but he rallied under the blow, sprung aside, and made for the river. he was fleet of foot, and, as he flew down the street, he kept looking over his shoulder, evidently in fear of a passing bullet. but the detective was coming on after him, bound to run him down, and as they passed first avenue the hue and cry was taken up by two other policemen, who joined in the pursuit. there was fully a block between 'sleepy' and his pursuers when he neared the river. he saw his advantage, turned into a stone-yard, dodged among the bowlders, scaled a fence, and made off. dick has been in the hands of the police before this week, but managed to get away." is there no lesson for our city rulers in such facts as these? if our police are men of only four block power; if they are so blown in that little distance that they are utterly helpless, and all they can do is, one after another to point to the escaping felon and indulge in these "brilliant flashes of silence," inwardly imploring some good civilian to kindly catch that thief; if a youngster can first indulge in a tough wrestle with a detective, and then, taking a heavy blow on his head from the butt of a revolver, not only empty-handed get away from his would-be captor, but, although the latter is joined by two policemen, soon put a whole block between him and them, and springing over a fence, go, after all, "unwhipt of justice," does it not strike the reader that a little improvement in the speed and stay of our policemen might do no harm? had it not better be conceded that it is hopeless for many of the broadway squad, for instance, in their present condition, to attempt to catch a thief by running; after him, and would it not be well to provide each of them with a lasso, for short-range work, and initiate them in its uses at once? in this way they could certainly make sure of one of those light-heeled gentry once in a while, perhaps--for example, one fond of lady's ear-rings. and who believes that officers always report their failures to catch thieves, or that the public ever hears of one-half of such cases? let us see, too, where this physical incapacity may lead to graver consequences than the mere allowing a detected thief to run at large. in the great cities there have sprung up within a few years back storehouses for the safe-keeping of securities, plate, important papers, and other valuables. hedged around with plates of steel, chronometer-locks, massive bolts, and several watchmen, and connected with the nearest police station by wires so arranged that the doors cannot be opened without sounding the alarm at the station-house, the public naturally put their trust in them, and their property too. within recent years we also hear far more than formerly of burglars going not in pairs or threes, but in gangs of half a dozen or more, and of cracking safes always thought impenetrable. now, suppose that a descent were made on the largest one of these safe depositories in america, the one under the new york stock exchange, and by a dozen first-class cracksmen. their business hours are generally between one and four in the morning. that they work with wonderful sagacity, daring, and despatch, is attested by such brilliant performance as that at the northampton bank robbery, or when they in a little time, one morning, relieved the manhattan bank of a few millions, and that right within a block of police head-quarters in new york city. suppose that, by collusion or otherwise, the robbers get through the outer door. unlike the bank of england, there is no platoon of soldiers on guard. they silence the three or four who oppose them. they come to the inner doors, the opening of which alarms the police. at the station-house, when that alarm sounds, three or four, or maybe more, more or less drowsy officers start and run for the stock exchange, some eight hundred feet away. is there any especial reason why they should be any less exhausted when they get there than the two policemen who failed to catch the sixth avenue thief, or the two who let another on first avenue run clear out of their sight? the four blocks the former two policemen ran do not make much over eight hundred feet. suppose that three or four, not half-grown fellows like "sleepy" dick, but stalwart desperadoes, used to rough work, quietly await the arrival of these worthy, but well-blown patrolmen. how long would it take the thieves to at least check the advance, if not also considerably impair the usefulness of men so nearly gone that they could not speak, and whose hands shook so that aiming a revolver effectively would be practically out of the question? and might not the press justly have some pretty plain comment to make, then, on the physical inefficiency of our police force, and wonder why it had not been insisted on long ago that they be trained as men have to be in other callings, until they are fit for their work? hear dr. morgan, in "university oars," on fat and unwieldy men, and their unfitness for emergencies calling for strong and quick work: "when, therefore, we hear of a man who, at twenty years of age, weighed 12 stone (168 pounds), and in after-life inclining to corpulency, has reached the abnormal weight of 17 or 18 stone (238 or 252 pounds), we must not consider him proportionately stronger: on the contrary, he should rather excite our pity and commiseration--the _five or six stone distributed over his body being composed wholly of adipose tissue_. he is thus as completely enveloped in blubber as though he were a whale or a seal. his muscles being heavily weighted, _his powers of locomotion are necessarily limited_; and, handicapped in this manner, it is no easy task for him to drag his unwieldy frame on some sweltering 12th of august over the trying inequalities of a highland moor." the broken-winded man, or a man out of wind, is almost as useless in an emergency calling for sharp and sudden work as a broken-winded horse. the standing around of the policeman, heavily shod and heavily clad, and the lazy, aimless walking, will never make him hardy, tough, and difficult to face, or likely not to use his club where a strong, quick man would never need it. swollen hands and feet, and soft, flabby flesh will be the result; and for the variety of sudden and dangerous work which he may be called upon to do at any moment he is not half fitted; and if he trains no more for his work than he does now, he never will be. again, in the matter of looks--not the least important, by any means, of the qualifications of a police-officer--are they all that they might be, and that they really ought to be? when a thousand of them, averaging two hundred pounds apiece, parade down broadway, with brass buttons gleaming, and every belt well filled, it is easy enough for press or citizen to say, "what a fine-looking body of men!" but now, notice them closely, and most of them are inerect, many are round-shouldered, and few are at once thoroughly well-built men and in good condition, being either loose-jointed, too fat, or too thin. contrast their marching and bearing with that of the little west point battalion on parade, every man erect, clean-cut, precise, wiry, and athletic; light and young, to be sure, but most hardy, quick, and manly. now, we know what it is to be erect. we soon discover that the bulk, the sunburn, and the uniforms have gone far toward making the favorable impression, which ought to have been better based, and that almost every one of these policemen is plainly faulty. now, suppose every one of these twenty-five hundred men, besides being, as most of them already are, both courageous and faithful in the performance of duty, was a skilful and hard-hitting boxer, a good, steady, long-distance runner, a fair wrestler, a strong swimmer, a sound, hale, thoroughly well-made man. let the vicious classes once know--and how long would it take them to learn?--that in a race between them and the policeman the latter would be pretty sure to win; let it be known that, when he once caught his man, the odds would be decidedly in his favor, and that that man would not get away; let every member of the force be justly known as a formidable man to face, and one whom the offender had better avoid--and what an advance it would be in both the moral and physical efficiency of the force! now let the riot come, and see what that little band of twenty-five hundred trained men could do against ten times their number. to-day they have nothing which makes them enduring at quick, hard work, and that is what is wanted for mobs. if they had an abundance of that which would make them so, the plying of a locust for an hour or two among a lot of unorganized roughs would be almost a diversion, and a game they could continue at by the week if need be. and why should not every city in our land have, instead of men very many of them too often far out of condition, these same well-trained men, educated, as men have to be in nearly every other calling, directly for their work, and all dexterous and able? is it asking too much? the preparation necessary to it will not compare in its exhausting effects with what the war-policeman--the soldier, who is not paid a quarter as much--must do without a murmur: the long forced marching, weighted like a pack-horse, the broken sleep, the stinted food, the bad shoes, the long absence from home, and the lack of all comforts. why not insist on a regime which, if the fat man could go through and retain his corporosity, would make him welcome to retain it; if the thin man could be up to every day's work in it, then he could stand far more than he looked equal to? but if either failed, out with him. there need be no fear that good substitutes could not be had in abundance. this is no question of mere health, and symmetry of make, and reasonable strength, as with the ordinary citizen. it is a matter of fitness for ordinary duties--duties often of very great importance to the public weal, which may spring up at any moment, and which call for unusual physical resources. it is a matter of substituting for dangerous weapons, rashly wielded, and when that wielding is often wholly uncalled for, men who, in any ordinary street-brawl, need no weapon, and would scarcely think of using one, any more than would a morrissey, a heenan, or a hyer. as nearly as possible in the centre of each four precincts in the larger cities hire a hall, say about eighty feet by forty, and the higher the better, well lighted and ventilated, and easily heated. two hundred dollars, carefully spent, would buy all needed apparatus, and as much more would keep it swept and dusted, lighted and warmed. twenty-five cents a month from each of four hundred policemen would be twelve hundred dollars a year, which would cover, beside these items, rent and salary of teacher as well. for the teacher need be with them but a little while daily; for, in about all the exercises necessary to make men good ordinary runners and boxers, a teacher up to his work can drill the men in squads. what they want is not intricate and technical knowledge, but plain, straightforward, swift, hard work, and plenty of it, and the condition which keeps them easily up to it. or, better yet, put these gymnasiums in charge of the department, if equally rigid economy could be insured. then require each man to spend fifteen minutes there every other day, sparring--after he had the rudiments--with some companion who can give him all the exercise he wants, and on the alternate days let an equal period of time be spent in running, not at racing pace, but still good lively work of the kind which brings good lungs and good legs. now, at the annual or semi-annual athletic meeting, let picked men from each precinct contend in foot-races, both for short and long distances; and, to give their work an even more practical turn, give some sneak-thief a reasonable start in such contests, and let the officers, in full uniform of course, catch him if they can. now the waistbands will begin to lessen, and a considerably smaller measure of cloth will cover the man, but it will clothe a man who, unarmed and unaided, can whip almost half a dozen such flabby, untrained, unskilful fellows as he used to be. for every duty which may at any moment become his, whether light or heavy, mild or violent, he will be far better qualified in almost every respect than before, yet no better in his line than any good business man requires each person in his employ to be in his, no matter what their particular duties may be. chapter xii. special exercise for any given muscles. while symmetrical and thorough physical development are not at all common among americans, and undeveloped, inerect, and weak bodies almost outnumber any other kind, the general want of familiarity with what will develop any given muscles, and bring them up to the fulness and strength which ought to be theirs, is even more surprising. if proof is wanted of this, let the reader ask himself what special work he would choose to develop any given part; the muscles of the forearm, for instance, or those of the front of the chest. if he has ever paid any attention to his physical development--and thousands and tens of thousands have not--he may know one or two things which will bring about the desired result; but even if he has attended the gymnasium a good deal, he will often be surprised to find that his time there was mainly spent in accomplishing some particular feat or amount of work, rather than in bringing about the special development of any given part, or general development of the whole body. now, while the exercises which bring any given set of muscles into play are very numerous, if a few can be grouped together which shall be at once simple and plain, and shall call either for inexpensive apparatus or none at all, which will also enable almost any one, by a little energy and determination, to bring up any limb or muscles now weak, they may prove of value. _to develop the leg below the knee._ the main part of the leg below the knee, for instance, is composed of muscles which raise the heel. stand erect, with the head high, chest out, and shoulders down, keeping the knees all the time well sprung back, having the feet about three inches apart, with the toes turned slightly outward. now slowly raise the heels until they are high off the floor, and the whole weight rests on the soles and toes. now drop slowly down. then repeat. next place the hand on the muscles of the calf, and while at first not firm, feel them harden as you rise, and all doubt as to whether the exercise in question uses these muscles will speedily vanish. continue this exercise at the same rate, keeping at it until you have risen fifty times. now, it will not be necessary, with most persons, to have to place the hand on these muscles to learn if they are brought into play, for already that is becoming very plain in another way, one that is bringing most conclusive proof to the mind--internal evidence it might well be called. unless the calves are unusually strong, long before the one hundredth effort there is an unmistakable ache in them, which, in the majority of instances, will cause the person to stop outright from sheer inability to proceed. it has not taken much time to get a pretty thorough measure of about what power there is in one set of muscles at least. all doubts are gone from his mind now as to whether one exercise he knows will call into play the muscles of his leg below the knee or not. it is equally plain that it is not his forearm, or upper arm, or the back or front of his chest which has been in action, for none of these have felt fatigue, the tire being all confined to the muscles in question. again, had there been beside him two men of nearly the same weight, but one of small and feeble calves, the other having them shapely and well-developed, is there any doubt which of the two could have kept at the exercise the longer, yet with the less fatigue? few men need be told that a muscle, unused to work at first, can gradually, by direct and systematic exercise, be strengthened; but not a few there are who are unaware that with the new strength comes increased size as well. yet, to those familiar with athletic work, it is as plain as that you must have your eyes open if you want to see. a gentleman of our acquaintance, of magnificent muscular and vital development, was not satisfied with the girth of his calves, which was 14-1/4 inches. at our suggestion he began practising this simple raising and lowering of the heels. in less than four months he had increased the girth of each calf one whole inch. when asked how many strokes a day he averaged, he said, "from fifteen hundred to two thousand;" varied some days by his holding in each hand during the process a twelve-pound dumb-bell, and then only doing one thousand or thereabouts. the time he found most convenient was in the morning on rising, and just before retiring at night. instead of the work taking much time, seventy a minute was found a good ordinary rate, so that fifteen minutes at each end of the day was all he needed. but this was a great and very rapid increase, especially for a man of thirty-five; far more than most persons would naturally be contented with, yet suggestive of the stuff and perseverance of the man who accomplished it. here, then, one of the most effective exercises which could be desired for the strengthening of these muscles is accomplished actually without apparatus, without one cent of expense--one which can be practised anywhere, in the largest or the smallest room, in-doors or out, on land or while at sea. but there are many other exercises which will bring this same development. now stand erect again, with head and chest high, shoulders low, and knees sprung back. start off at an ordinary pace, and walk. but, instead of, as usual, putting the foot down and lifting it without thinking about it, this time, just as it leaves the ground, press hard with the soles and toes. go on for a block or two, and you will suddenly find that your calves are having new and unwonted duties--indeed, a very generous share of work. keep on for a mile--if you can. good a walker as you thought yourself before, a mile of this sort will be a mile to be remembered--certainly for a few days, till the ache gets out of your calves. if walking with this new push is not hard enough on flat ground, try it up-hill. it will not be long before these muscles will ache till it will seem as if you must have a whole gymnasium concealed in them somewhere. another exercise for the same muscles, which can also be learned in a moment, and a little of which will suffice at first, is running on the toes, or, rather, on the soles and toes. here the whole weight is held by, and pushed from, first the muscles of one calf, then of the other. one will not go far at this without convincing proof of the value of this work to the parts in question. of two brothers of our acquaintance--one a boy of thirteen, the other a little fellow of four--the former walks with no especial spring, and performs his running flat-footed. but the little fellow, whether walking, standing, or running, is forever on his toes, and with his knees sprung well back. the former has rather slim legs and no great calf; the latter beautifully developed calves, round, full, and symmetrical, noticeably large for a boy of his size and age. again, work, harder, and telling more directly on the calves, and hence calculated to increase their size and strength faster even than any of these, is hopping on one foot--a really grand exercise, and one of the speediest for bringing strong legs and a springy step. there is not the relief in it that there is in walking or running. there the rest is nearly twice as long as here. here the work is almost continuous, and soon tires the strongest muscles. jumping also exercises these muscles powerfully, and, practised steadily, soon brings them up. well developed and strong, these muscles are of great value in dancing, adding astonishingly to the ease and grace so valued in this accomplishment, and to endurance as well. horseback-riding, where the foot is pushed but a little way into the stirrup, and the whole weight thus thrown on the toes; rowing, especially with the sliding seat, where the feet press hard against the stretcher; leaping; ordinary walking uphill, and walking on the toes alone--these all call these muscles into most vigorous play, and, when practised steadily and with energy, are among the most rapid means known for increasing, not the strength of the calves alone, but their girth as well. try a summer of mountain climbing. look at the men who spend their lives at it. notice the best stayers in the alpine clubs, and almost invariably they are found to have large and powerful calves, especially where their knees are not bent much in stepping. in a personal sketch of bendigo, the once celebrated british prize-fighter (now a quiet christian man), much stress was laid on the fact that his calves measured a clean sixteen inches about. yet, to show that gentlemen are sometimes quite as strong in given directions as prize-fighters, look at professor maclaren's own memorandum of not only what a splendid pair of legs he himself had at the start, but what a little mountain climbing did for them; for he says that in four months of alpine walking, averaging nine hours a day, his calves went up from sixteen inches to seventeen and a quarter! and his thighs from twenty-three and a half inches to twenty-five. if instances nearer home are sought, and yet where neither anything like the time maclaren took was given to it, nor any of the very severe work of the gentleman referred to a little earlier, look at what dr. sargent accomplished, not with one solitary man but with two hundred, at bowdoin college; not giving nine hours a day to it, but only "half an hour a day, four times a week, for a period of six months." in this very brief time, and by moderate exercises, he increased the average girth of the calf of these whole two hundred men from twelve and a half inches to thirteen and a quarter. there was one pupil, working four hours a week instead of four half-hours, and for one year instead of six months, who increased his calves from thirteen and a half inches to fifteen--an actual gain of a quarter of an inch more in two hundred and eight hours of exercise, much of which was given to other muscles, and did not tell on the calves, than maclaren made in nine hundred hours of work, most of which kept these muscles in very active play. in all exercises for these muscles, indeed in all foot-work, shoes should be worn with soles broad enough to prevent the slightest cramping of the foot, and so giving every part of it its natural play. there remains one other prominent muscle below the knee, that in front, running down along the outer side of the shin-bone. develop the calf fully, as is often done, and omit this little muscle and the work which calls it into play, and there is something wanting, something the lack of which causes a lack of symmetry. fast walking, when one is unused to it, especially when the knees are held pretty straight, will work this muscle so vigorously as to make it sore. but a plain, safe, and simple exercise for it, yet one which, if protracted, will soon swell it into notice, and give it unwonted strength and beauty, is effected by stooping down as low as possible, the feet being but a few inches apart, and the heels never being allowed to rise even a quarter of an inch off the floor. lift the heels, and this muscle is at once relieved. laying any weight on the foot, and lifting it clear from the ground, will also call on this muscle. so will fastening the feet into straps, like those on a boat-stretcher or rowing-weight, and swaying the body of the sitter back and forth; for these muscles have heavy work to do to aid in pulling the body forward, so that the rower may reach his hands out over his toes for a new stroke. simply standing on one foot, first holding the other clear of the floor, and then drawing it up as near as possible to the front of its own ankle, and then opening it as wide as you can, will be found a safe and reasonably effective way of bringing forward this small but useful muscle; while walking on the heels, with the toes drawn up high, is simpler yet. for those who want to run heavy risks, and are not contented with any exercise which does not threaten their necks, hanging by the toes from a horizontal or trapeze bar will be found to just fill the bill. _work for the front of the thigh._ the muscles of the front thigh have a most intimate connection with those already mentioned, and, for ordinary purposes, a fair development of them is more necessary than of those below the knee. in common walking, for instance, while the calf gets something to do, the thigh gets far more, especially when the step is low and flat, and the heel never raised far from the ground. a man will often have large and strong thighs, and yet but indifferent calves. a prominent harvard oarsman, a strong and fast walker, and a man of magnificent development in most points, was once examined carefully by greenough, the sculptor. "i should know you were an american," said he, "because you have no calves;" and, indeed, his mistake in developing splendid arms, and trunk, and thighs, and forgetting all about the calves, is far too common a one among our athletes to-day; though the prominence they are beginning to give to running helps mend matters in this respect. scarcely any muscles are easier brought into action than these of the upper or front thigh. stand erect, with head and chest high, and the feet about six inches apart. now, bend the knees a little, say until the head has dropped vertically six inches. then rise to the perpendicular again. repeat a few times, and it will not be long till these muscles will be felt to be in lively action, and this exercise prolonged will make them ache. but this movement is very much akin to that in dancing, the latter being the harder of the two, because the weight is first on one foot, then on the other, while in the former it is always on both. again, instead of stooping for a few inches only, start as before, with head and neck rigidly erect, and now stoop all the way down; then rise again. continue this movement several times, and generally at first a few repetitions will be found to be quite enough. by-and-by, as the strength increases, so should the number; and, if time is to be saved and the work condensed, keep dumb-bells, say of a tenth of your own weight, in the hands during the operation. a more severe tax yet is had by holding one foot far out, either in front or back, and then stooping down wholly on the other foot. few can do this many times, and most persons cannot do it at all. for swiftly bringing up a thigh at present weaker than its mate, and so restoring the symmetry which should always have been there, this work is almost unparalleled. jumping itself, either high or flat, is admirable for the thighs. charles astor bristed, in his "five years in an english university," says that he at one time took to jumping, and was astounded at the rapid progress he made in a branch of athletics at which before he had been no good. maclaren says that hardly any work will quicker bring up the whole legs; but this will probably prove truer where a large number of moderate jumps are taken daily, than where a few extreme efforts are made. both fast walking and running bring vigorous action to these muscles; slow walking does little for them, hence the number of weak, undeveloped thighs among men who do little or no quick foot-work. a man, too, whose body is light and thin, may do a deal of fast walking without greatly enlarging his thighs, because they have comparatively little to carry. but let him, after first getting thoroughly used to fast and continued walking, carry weight awhile, say a twenty-five-pound bag of shot or sand, or a small boy, on his back, or dumb-bells in his hands--of course, on a gymnasium track, or some other course where his action will be understood--and he will find that the new work will soon tell, as would, also, long-distance running, even though not weighted, as rowell so eminently shows. good, stiff long-distance walking is excellent for the front thigh; but running is better, especially when done as it ought to be, namely, not flat-footed, but with the heel never touching the ground. any sort of running or walking, at any pace protracted enough to bring moderately tired muscles, will tell, especially on these in question; while severe work over a long distance will give them a great task, and the consequent ability and size. many a man may do a little desultory running daily, perhaps for a week or two together once a year, and not find his thighs enlarge or toughen materially. but let him put in a few minutes each day, for several months together, at steady smart running, as far as he can, and go comfortably, and now, besides the work becoming easy, comes the desired size and strength as well. the hopping, which was so good for the calves, is hardly less so for these muscles, and is one of the best possible movements to develop them in the shortest time. dancing, long continued, also tells here, as an acquaintance of ours found, who used to lead the german frequently at newport; for, though far from being an athlete, he said that he daily ran a mile during the season, just to keep his legs in good order for the duties his position demanded. a more moderate exercise than the running, though not always so available, is walking uphill. this, besides, as already mentioned, doing so much for the calves, tells directly and markedly on the thighs as well. skating makes a pleasant substitute for walking during a part of the colder months, and, when much distance is covered daily, brings strong and shapely thighs. the farmer and the laboring man, in all their heavier work done stooping over their tasks--such as lifting, shovelling, picking, and mowing--use the thighs much, but keep them so long fixed in one position, with little or no varying exercise to supple and limber them and the joints, that both gradually stiffen, and their instep soon begins to lack elasticity, which tendency is too often increased by heavy, stiff, and unwieldy boots. swinging forward when rowing, either in a boat or at the toe-straps, after first swinging far back, takes these upper muscles in a way quite the reverse of their ordinary use, they now aiding to pull the whole trunk forward, and so acting like two long hooks. all lifting of heavy objects from the ground, standing in almost any position, tells heavily on these muscles, being about the severest momentary test they can have, greater even than in jumping. but occasional heavy lifting tends rather to harden the muscle than to rapidly increase its size, protracted effort at lighter but good-sized weights doing the latter to better advantage. brisk horseback-riding keeps these muscles very actively employed. every sort of work which calls for frequent stooping down does the same. persons who take short steps, and many of them, if they walk with vigor, are likely to have legs thicker and stouter everywhere than they who stride out far, but make the whole step as easy for themselves as possible. hardly any of the muscles are so useful and valuable as these. one may have weak arms and trunk, yet with strong thighs he can walk a long distance daily, and not be nearly so fatigued as those much stronger elsewhere and weaker here, and, as many men have little or no other exercise than walking, they are often contented with fair development here, and practically none of any account elsewhere. it is astonishing, too, to notice how a man accustomed for years to a poor shambling sort of a gait will, with strict attention to taking a clean and strong step over a certain distance daily, with a determination to take no other sort of gait, soon improve the strength and shape of his thighs. as hopping on one foot is a swift way to develop the calf, so frequent stooping down as low as possible and rising again, daily, at first without weights, but eventually with them, is the sure way to speedily enlarge and strengthen the thighs. _to enlarge the under thigh._ the muscles of the under thigh do not get nearly so much to do as those in front, in many persons seeming almost not to exist. a bad walk, with the knees always slightly bent, is partly accountable for this; and a man accustomed to such a walk, and trying suddenly to walk erect, with his knees firmly knit, and bowed slightly back, soon tires and aches at the operation, which, to one in the habit of walking erect, long ago became natural. the exercise already recommended, of pressing the sole of the foot hard on the ground just as it leaves it, is scarcely more beneficial to the muscles of the calf than to these; likewise walking uphill, that telling finely on them. standing, as does the west pointer in his setting-up drill, and, with knees unbent, trying to touch the floor with the hands, tells in this region. fastening a weight of any sort, a dumb-bell or flat-iron, to the ankle, say with strap or towel, and raising the foot as high up backward and outward as possible, and repeating till tired; putting the foot in the handle of the pulling-weight, and frequently drawing it far down; or, standing with back to the wall, and placing the heel against the base-board of the room, or any solid vertical surface, and pressing hard many times--these all tell on this hidden under muscle, which, small as it is, is a most essential one, and especially in looks, while running with the foot thrown high behind, excels them all. _to strengthen the sides of the waist._ but while the legs have been so actively engaged, there are other parts which have not been idle, so that the same work brings other strength as well. in every step taken, and especially every vigorous one, as in fast walking or in running, the muscles at the sides of the waist have been all the time at work, a prominent duty of theirs being to aid in holding the body erect. notice a man weak just here, and see his body sway a little from side to side as he walks, seeming to give at the waist. were such a one to practise daily hopping straight ahead, on one foot, and then on the other, until he could by-and-by so cover half a mile without fatigue, he would find his swaying propensity fast disappearing; and if he has been troubled with a feeble or unshapely waist, that also will have gradually changed, until at the end it has become firm and well-set. take the long balancing-pole of the tight-rope walker, and try to walk a rope awhile, or try the more simple expedient of walking on the railroad rail, and these muscles are at once uncommonly busy. notice the professional tight-rope man, and see how strong he is here, especially when to the weight of his own body he adds another, as did farini when he carried a man on his shoulders across the niagara river; or as the eastern porter, with his huge weight of luggage; or the carrier at the meat-market, who shoulders a whole side or more of beef and marches off with it. these men soon get great and unusual power in these side muscles. wrestling also, whether cornish or grã¦co-roman, or indeed almost any sort, tells directly and severely here. if one prefers to use apparatus made specially, the opposite cut shows a simple device of dr. sargent's, which he made purposely to bring up and strengthen these muscles. standing in front of it, with head and neck erect and chest out, and grasping the ends of the bar a a', the operator simply turns it, first well up to the right, then to the left, and then repeats the movements until he has enough. as he turns, the rubber straps bâ b stretch more and more, of course getting stiffer the farther the bar is turned. it would scarcely be possible to hit upon a better appliance for improving these valuable side muscles, and yet without fear of overdoing them. [illustration: fig. 5. appliance for developing the sides of the waist.] _the abdominal muscles._ nor do these include all the muscles which the foot-work arouses to action. take the horizontal bands or layers of muscle across the abdomen. every step forward moves them, and the higher and more energetic the step, the more they have to do. a man who is not strong in these muscles will usually have a feeble walk, and very often will double forward a little, until he is in about the position of the two hands of a clock at two minutes past six, giving him the appearance of being weak here. but the strong, high step tilts the body slightly back, and gives these muscles so much to do that they soon grow good at it, and shapely and powerful accordingly. another advantage comes from having these muscles strong, and from forming the habit of stepping as he does who has them so. by walking thus erect, the shoulders, instead of pressing over on the chest as the man tires, and so cramping his breathing, are so habitually held back that it is easier to keep them there, and the consequent fuller respiration keeps him longer fresh. this is very conspicuous in the case of one of the most famous pedestrians in the world to-day, its ex-champion long-distance walker, daniel o'leary. take him when in good condition, and in one of his long tramps; on the first mile or the four hundredth, it is always the same: there he is, with head up, shoulders well back, and working busily, and--the most noticeable thing--the whole centre of the body, from the waist to the knees, thrown, if anything, actually forward of a vertical line, instead of as far, or often much farther, back of it; indeed, the point farthest forward is about two inches below his belt. a fair though not clear idea of what is meant can be had from the following sketch of him, taken at the time, on the latter part of his five-hundred-mile walk with hughes, "the lepper," on the track in the hippodrome, in new york city, during the first week of october, 1878. hughes, while proving himself a very tough and determined man, showed, as is too often the case with professional athletes, great ignorance of many things which would have helped him much had he known and followed them, and none more, perhaps, than this very matter of correct position. o'leary's freshness, no matter how many hundred miles he has just walked, is remarkable. this rational way of carrying the body during a difficult feat, besides giving the heart and lungs full room for vigorous action, also gives the stomach and other vital organs ample play; for a glance at the sketch shows none of the thinness of flank and general sunken-in look at the waist in o'leary so plain in hughes, and so common among walkers in the later miles of the race. [illustration: fig. 6. a correct position for fast walking.] singularly enough, a little boy, only eleven years old, and but three feet nine inches high, has copied, or rather acquired--for it seems he had never seen this sensible step and carriage of o'leary--with astonishing success, as witness the following sketch of his performance from the _new york herald_ of october 11th, 1878. foolish in the extreme as it is to allow such half-grown youngsters to attempt such feats, it is doubtful if the annals of the cinder-path can match such prodigious stay and skill in one so young: "an embryo o'leary "between the grand central depot and madison avenue and forty-second and forty-fourth streets is a vacant square, which the boys of the neighborhood have been utilizing as a race-track. every day dozens of them may be seen scurrying round the track, intent on making the best time ever known. yesterday afternoon a five-mile walk was in progress, which was headed by a very small boy, who at once attracted the attention of the by-standers by his peculiarly rapid and easy gait. he kept ahead of the other contestants, and finally distanced them by two laps, and won in the time of 48m. 2s. "after this race, at the request of the lookers-on, he travelled around the track once (which is one-seventh of a mile) in 1m. and 15s. _he walks very erect, steps like o'leary, and does not seem to be easily fatigued._ this time is still more surprising, considering that he is only eleven years old and but three feet nine inches high, so that he cannot take a very long step. "in a conversation with him it was learned that his name was joe havey, residing at no. 144 east forty-third street. he has never seen a professional walk, so that his walking ideas are his own. with a little practice he bids fair to become a no. 1 pedestrian." but there are other ways of bringing up these useful abdominal muscles, equally easy to learn. sit down at the rowing-weights, placing the feet in the toe-straps. now sway the body back and forth, and, placing the hand on the muscles in question, feel how they harden. an ordinary bit of strap screwed to the base-board of one's room, so that each foot shall have a loop of it to go into, and then a stool or cassock some eight inches high to sit on, save the expense of the rowing-weights, yet produce the desired result with these muscles. lie flat on the back, as, for instance, just on awaking. taking first a deep, full breath, draw the feet upward, keeping the knees unbent, until the legs are vertical. lower them slowly till horizontal, then raise again and continue. it will not take many minutes--or seconds--to bring these muscles enough work for one morning. or this time keep the legs down, and, first filling the chest, now draw the body up until you are sitting erect. then drop slowly back, and repeat. this will be likely to take even less time than did the other, but it will tell tremendously on these muscles. indeed, most people are so weak in them, that they can hardly do this once. yet men who have them strong and well-trained will lie flat on their backs on the floor or gymnasium mat, and while some one holds their ankles, taking a two-hundred-pound man, lying across their chest at right angles with it, will raise him several times till they are in erect sitting posture. sitting on one of the parallel bars in the gymnasium, and placing both feet under the other, and now dropping the body back until it is horizontal, then rising to vertical and repeating, is very hard work for these abdominal muscles, and should only be practised by those already strong here. these muscles are brought into direct and vigorous play in rowing, to such an extent that no man who has them weak can be a fast oarsman over any ordinary racing distance. indeed, this is the very region where young rowers, otherwise strong, and seemingly fit for hard, fast work, give out first. every time the foot is raised in running, these muscles are called to active duty far more than in walking, and the high, strong, sharp step works them severely, so that no man weak here could be a fast runner with good action. jumping, vaulting, leaping, all bring them into sudden, spasmodic, almost violent action. let a man mow awhile, when unused to it, and see how soon it tells across this region, the muscles aching next day from the twisting motion. the latest invention purposely for these muscles is also one of sargent's, on the following plan: the pupil lies on the plank aâ a', or, rather, sits on it, when a' is a little back of vertical, so as, for instance, to form with a the angle aâ bâ a'. with feet in the toe-straps câ c', he sways gently forward and back as long as he can without fatigue. from day to day, as these muscles gain strength, a' is dropped lower and lower, until finally it is on a level with a. or a strap may be placed over the forehead and fastened to a', and, with the feet in the toe-straps, the person may lift his body up till vertical, drawing the weight e with him as he rises. _counterwork for the abdominal muscles._ but nearly all the exercises just named for the abdominal muscles, while they make them strong and handsome, tend to contract rather than lengthen them; and for men of sedentary life inclined to stoop a little forward while sitting, some work is needed which shall stretch these muscles, and aid in restoring them to their natural length. stand erect. now gradually draw the head and shoulders backward until as far past the vertical as possible. return slowly to erect position. in the drawing back, these muscles were stretched to a greater length than usual, and in those who accustom themselves to drawing far back in this way, like the contortionists of the circus, these muscles grow wonderfully elastic, such men being able not only to touch their heads to their heels, but now and then to go farther yet, and drink water from a tumbler set between their feet. [illustration: fig. 7. device for developing the abdominal muscles.] but while there is no need of such extreme work, moderate performance in this way directly tends to stretch and lengthen muscles which, in the great majority of people, are somewhat cramped and shortened by habitual standing, sitting, or lying, with the back either flat or almost curved outward, instead of slightly hollowed in, and with the consequent sinking of the chest. all work above the head, such as swinging clubs, or an axe or sledge; putting up dumb-bells, especially when both hands go up together; swinging by the hands from rope or bar, or pulling the body up till the chin touches the hands; standing with back to the pulley-weights, and taking the handles in the hands, and, starting with them high over the head, then pushing the hands far out forward; standing two or more feet from the wall, and, placing the hands side by side against it about as high up as your shoulders, then throwing the chest as far forward as possible; the hauling down ropes by the sailor; the ceiling-work of the plasterer and the painter, and the like--these all do excellent service in bringing to these important muscles the length and elasticity they ought to have, and so contributing materially to the erect carriage of the body. all kinds of pushing with the hands, such as one does in putting them against any heavy substance and trying to push it before him, striking out in boxing, in fencing, or single-stick, with dumb-bells, or in swimming, are capital; while the drawing of the head and shoulders back swiftly, as in boxing to avoid a blow, can hardly be surpassed as an aid in this direction. _to enlarge and give power to the loins._ before leaving the waist, there is one more set of muscles which demand attention; and if one has them weak, no matter how strong he may be elsewhere, he is weak in a place where he can ill afford to be, and that is in the loins, or the main muscles in the small of the back, running up and down at each side of the spine. in many of the heavier grades of manual labor these muscles have a large share of work to do. all stooping over, when lifting is done with a spade, or fork, or bar, whether the knees are held straight or bent, or lifting any weight directly in the hands, horizontal pulling on a pulley-weight, rope, or oar--in short, nearly every sort of work where the back is actively employed, keeps these muscles thoroughly active. you cannot bend over without using them. weed awhile, and, unless already strong in the loins, they will ache. a laboring man weak here would hardly be worth hiring. a rowing-man weak here could never be a first-rate oar till he had trained away the weakness. heenan, with all his grand physique, his tremendous striking-power, his massive development above the waist, would not have made nearly as enduring an oar as the sturdier, barrel-chested morrissey, or as the broad-loined renforth did make. strong loins are always desirable. he who has them, and is called on in any sudden emergency to lift any heavy weight, as the prostrate form of one who has fallen in a swoon, for instance, is far less likely to work himself serious, if not permanent, injury here than he who has them untrained and undeveloped. _development above the waist._ little or no work has been suggested, so far, aimed purposely to develop any muscles above the waist. indeed, it is no uncommon thing, especially among englishmen, to find a man of very strong legs and waist, yet with but an indifferent chest and shoulders, and positively poor arms. canon kingsley had discovered this when he said to the british clergy, "i should be ashamed of being weak. i could not do half the little good i do here if it were not for that strength and activity which some consider coarse and degrading. many clergymen would half kill themselves if they did what i do. and though they might walk about as much, they would neglect exercise of the arms and chest, and become dyspeptic or consumptive." let us look at a few things which would have proved useful to the brave canon's pupils. the connection between the arms and the muscles, both on the front and back of the chest, is so close that it is practically impossible to have arms thoroughly developed, and not have all the trunk muscles above the waist equally so. fortunately, as in foot-work, the exercises to develop these muscles, without having to resort to expensive apparatus, or often to any at all, are very numerous. with a pair of dumb-bells, at first weighing not over one-twenty-fifth of what he or she does who uses them, and gradually, as the strength increases, substituting larger ones, until they weigh, say, one-tenth of his or her weight, there is scarcely a muscle above the belt which cannot, by steady and systematic work of never over half an hour daily, be rounded and strengthened up to what it ought to be in a thoroughly developed, strong, and efficient person of its owner's sex, size, and age. _filling out the shoulders and upper back._ notice now what these dumb-bells can do for the shoulders and upper back. stand erect again, with the chin up and chest high (in all these exercises stand erect where it is possible), and have the dumb-bells in the hands hanging easily at the sides. now carry them slowly backward and upward, keeping the arms straight at the elbows, and parallel, until the hands are about as high as they can well go. hold them there a moment, then drop them slowly to the sides. do it again, and keep on until you begin to feel like stopping. note the spot where you feel it, and you will find that the under or inner muscles of the part of the back-arm which is above the elbow, also those on the shoulder-blade, and the large muscles of the back directly under the arms, have been the ones in action. laying one dumb-bell down, now repeat the above exercise with the remaining one, say in the right hand, this time placing the left hand on the back just under the right arm, or on the inner portion of the triceps or upper muscle of that right arm. these muscles will be found vigorously at work, and hardening more and more the higher the bell is carried or the longer it is held up. a little of this work daily, begun with the lighter dumb-bells, and increased gradually by adding to the number of strokes, or taking larger bells, or both, and long before the year is out, if the person is steady and persevering at it, decided increase in the strength, size, and shapeliness of the upper back will follow. what has been thus done with the dumb-bells could have been done nearly or quite as well with any other small, compact body of the same weight which could be easily grasped by the hands, such as a pair of window-weights, flat-irons, cobble-stones, or even chairs, whichever were convenient. where there's a will there's a way; and if one really means to get these or any other muscles strong and handsome, the way is really surprisingly simple and easy. now, instead of using the dumb-bells, stand erect, facing the pulley-weights at the gymnasium, or at home if you have them, taking care only that they weigh at least what the dumb-bells would. grasping the handles, draw them far back and up, the hands, in other words, doing precisely what they did with the bells, and the same results will follow. rowing, either at the oar or the rowing-weights, would have told equally hard on these muscles, and, as already pointed out, on many others besides, the weight of the body itself aiding the development as it would not with the bells or weights. it would also broaden the shoulders and spread them apart, more, perhaps, than almost any other known exercise. but, like any other single exercise calling certain muscles into play and leaving others idle, taken as substantially one's only exercise, as is too often the case with rowing-men, it brings a partial and one-sided development, making the parts used look too large for the rest, the fact being that the rest have not been brought up as fast as the former. unless one's chest is unusually broad and strong, and often, even if it is, constant rowing warps his shoulders forward, and tends directly to make him a round-shouldered man,[m] while the upper arm, or that part above the elbow, has had practically no development, the inner part of the triceps or back-arm alone being called to severe duty, but the bulk being almost idle. courtney, the greatest sculler the united states has yet produced--a large man, standing six feet and half an inch in height, strongly made in most parts, and weighing ordinarily nearly a hundred and ninety--is a good instance of how rowing does little for the upper arm; for while his forearm is almost massive, measuring exactly thirteen inches in girth, the upper arm, doubled up, barely reaches fourteen. a well-proportioned arm, of which the forearm girths thirteen, should measure above all fifteen and a quarter. again, while courtney's forearm feels sinewy and hard, the upper is not nearly so hard, and does not give the impression of having seen very stiff service. his chest, too, is not so large by over two inches as ought to go with a thirteen-inch forearm. beside these exercises with the dumb-bells, the weights, and the oar, all the vocations which cause one to stoop over much and lift--such as most of those of the farmer, the laborer, and of the artisan in the heavier kinds of work--tell on these same muscles of the upper back and the inner side of the triceps, too often bringing, as already pointed out, a far better back than front, and so injuring the form and carriage. lifting heavy weights where one stands nearly erect, as when practising on the lifting-machine, pulls very heavily on the extreme upper muscles of the back, those sloping off downward from the back of the neck to the shoulders. _to obtain a good biceps._ starting with the dumb-bells down at the sides, as before, raise them slowly and steadily in front until they nearly touch the shoulder--technically, "curl" them--holding the head up, the neck rigidly erect, and the chest expanded to its very utmost. now lower the bells slowly to the sides again, and repeat, and so continue. in a very few minutes, often less than three, you will want to stop. the biceps muscles, or those forming the front of the upper arms, are getting the work this time, and by applying to that of one arm in action the hand of the other, it is at once found that this muscle is growing quite hard. if no dumb-bell or other convenient weight is at hand, place one hand in the other, and bear down hard with the upper hand, holding the chest stubbornly out. lift away with the lower hand, and, when it reaches the shoulder, lower it slowly to the side, and then raise again, and so continue. this will be found a good thing to know when a person is travelling, or away from home, and cannot readily get at such apparatus as he has in his own room. now stand erect in front of and facing the pulley-weights, and at about arm's-length from them; draw the hand horizontally in until it is close to the shoulder; let the weight drop slowly back, and then draw it to you again, and so go on. this is splendid work for the biceps, and will soon begin to swell and strengthen it; and then either increased weight, or more strokes daily, is all that will be needed. fasten a stout hook in a beam overhead, and hang a pulley to it. run a rope through this, at one end of which you can attach weights, and tie the other to the middle of a thick cane or other stick, taking care to have the rope of such a length in all, that when the weight is on the floor the stick is about a foot above your head. begin with, say, one of your dumb-bells of not over one-tenth of your own weight. grasping the stick with both hands, with their palms toward you, draw it downward until level with your chin; then let it go back; repeat, and continue till you begin to tire. if the single bell seems too light, attach both bells. after a few days with these, fasten on a basket or coal-hod, and increase the load until, say at the month's end, it weighs over half of what you do. if you can take this up a number of times without ache or ill-feeling, you are strong enough to take hold of a fixed bar and attempt to haul yourself up, as mr. bryant did,[n] until your chin touches your hand. but without this preliminary work, such pulling up, frequently as it is attempted, is a foolish and hazardous experiment, throwing a great strain on muscles quite unused to such a task, namely, on these very biceps muscles. if, on the other hand, one has these muscles already strong, and can with ease pull himself up six or eight times, he will find this stick and weight an excellent affair for training the biceps of one arm, until it gets strong enough to pull him up without the other arm at all. for this simple and valuable contrivance the public is also indebted to dr. sargent, who is a regular edison in devising simple and sensible gymnastic appliances, which he freely gives to all without patenting them. mounting a ladder or a rope hand-over-hand; lifting any weight in front of you, whether a feather or a barrel of sugar; picking up anything from the floor; holding weights out in front, or at your side, at arm's-length; pulling downward on a rope, as in hauling up a sail; hammering--in short, anything which bends the elbow and draws the hand in toward the shoulder, takes the biceps muscle; and, if the work is vigorous and persisted in, this muscle will ere long become strong and well-shaped. _to bring up the muscles on the front and side of the shoulder._ for the muscles on the front and side of the shoulder, holding out weights at arm's-length, either at the side or in front, will be found just what is wanted, the arms being horizontal, or the hands being held rather higher than that, the elbows remaining unbent. holding the mere weight of the hands, as in boxing, but keeping at it awhile, keeps these parts well occupied; while the sword, or foil, or single-stick, freely plied, or the axe or bat, tell directly here. _forearm work._ very many of these exercises for the biceps and shoulder have also called on the forearm, while those mentioned for the inner triceps have done the same. very prominent among the latter is rowing, much of it soon bringing a strong forearm, especially on the inner and under side. anything which necessitates shutting the hand, or keeping it partly or wholly shut; such as holding anything heavy in it, driving, chopping, fencing, single-stick, pulling one's self up with one hand or both, batting, lacrosse, polo, twisting the dumb-bells around when at arm's-length, or a chair, or cane, or foil, or sword, or broom-handle, if the dumb-bells are not convenient, carrying a weight in the hand, using any of the heavier mechanical hand-tools--all these, and more of their sort, will enlarge and strengthen the forearm, and will do much also for the hand. probably the hardest work for the forearm, and that calling for the greatest strength here, is lifting very heavy weights suspended from a stick, bar, or handles which the hands grasp. _exercises for the triceps muscles._ one prominent part of the arm remains, or, rather, one which ought to be prominent, though in most persons, both men and women, it is not. in boys and girls it is even less so. we refer to the rest of the triceps, or the bulk of what remains of the upper arm after leaving out the biceps and the inner side of the triceps. when well developed, this is one of the handsomest parts of the arm. no arm will look slim which has this muscle fully developed. to bring that development, push with the hands against almost any heavy or solid thing you want to. if these muscles are small and weak, push the dumb-bells up over your head as much as you can daily, till a month's work has given them a start. for two or three minutes each day during that month, stand facing the wall, and about two feet from it. now fall against it, or, rather, put your hands on it, about three feet apart and as high as your ears, and let your body drop in toward the wall till your chest nearly touches it, your face being held up and back. then push sharply back till your body is again erect, and continue the movement. this exercise is as admirable as it is cheap. if the triceps muscles are tolerably strong in the start, or in any case at the end of the month in which the last two exercises have been practised, try now a harder thing. place the hands on the floor, hold the body out at full length and rigid, or as nearly so as you can, and push, raising the body till the elbows are straight. now bend the elbows and lower again, till the face nearly touches the floor, keeping the body all the time as stiff and straight as possible, and then rise on stiff elbows again, and so on. if this is not hard enough work for the ambitious aspirant for stout triceps, he can vary it by clapping his hands between the dips, just as his face is farthest from the floor, though in such case it is sometimes well to have a nose accustomed to facing difficulty. so far, in this work for the back-arm the hands at first held merely the weight of the dumb-bells; then, as they pressed against the wall, they had to bear part of the weight of the body, but not a large part, as that rested mainly on the feet. in the pushing from the floor the hands bore still more of it, but yet the feet had quite a share. now try something where the hands and arms carry the entire weight of the body. get up on the parallel bars, or on the bars in your door-jambs,[o] or, if no bars are convenient, place two stout chairs back to back, and then draw them about eighteen or twenty inches apart, and, placing one hand on each, holding the arms straight, lift the feet off the floor. now lower till the chin is level with the hands, or nearly so, and then rise till the arms are straight, and then dip again, and so on, the knees and feet of course never resting on anything. now you have one of the best known exercises for bringing quick development and good strength to the triceps or back-arm. when by steady daily trial you have gradually increased the number until you can do twenty-five fair dips without great effort, you have strong triceps muscles, and, if you have two legs and a reasonably heavy body to lift, good-sized ones at that. most of your friends cannot manage five dips respectably, many scarcely one. but, lest you should feel too elated over your twenty-five, bear in mind that one gentleman in new york has accomplished over eighty without stopping, and this though he weighs upward of one hundred and eighty pounds; and if a reasonably accurate idea of what sort of back-arms were necessary for this marvellous feat, it may be had by observing the cut on the cover of this book. with a forty-four inch chest, his upper arm measures thirteen and a half inches down (half an inch more than heenan's), and sixteen up, though he is but five feet ten inches in height, while heenan stood four inches taller. he says that as surely as the ability exists to make many dips, so surely will there be a large back-arm, and it was hard work that brought him his. slim arms may push up heavy dumb-bells once or twice, but it takes thick ones for sustained effort at smaller, though good-sized ones. _to strengthen and develop the hand._ very many of the exercises so useful in strengthening the forearm were at the same time improving the grip of the hand. but an evil of so much gripping or drawing the hand together is that, unless there is an equal amount of work to open and flatten it, it tends to become hooked. notice the rowing-man's hand, and the fingers nearly always, when at rest, are inclined to be doubled in, as if half clutching something; and very often, where they have seen years of rowing, their joints get so set that the fingers cannot be bent back nearly as far as other people's. some of the pushing exercises mentioned above for the triceps tend to counteract this, notably that where the fingers or the flat of the hands are pressed against the wall. an admirable exercise in this direction is, when you practice the pushing up from the floor for the triceps, to only touch the floor with the ends of the fingers and thumbs, never letting the palm of the hand touch it at all. this will soon help to rectify many a hand now rather cramped and contracted, besides bringing new strength and shape to the fingers. to make any particular finger strong, attach a strap to the bar referred to on page 235, and placing that finger in the strap begin with raising a small weight from the floor until you have drawn your hand down to your chin; then from day to day gradually increase both the weight and the number, until, before a great while, you may find that you can raise an equivalent of your own weight. now attach the strap to any stationary object as high above your head as you can comfortably reach, say a horizontal bar, and pull yourself up till your chin touches your hand. some gymnasts can do this several times with the little finger. just where the thumb joins the palm, and between it and the forefinger on the back of the hand, is a muscle which, while at first usually small, can be developed and enlarged by any exercise which necessitates pinching the ends of the thumb and forefinger together, such as carrying a plate of metal or other thin but heavy substance between the finger and thumb. harder work yet, calling on both this muscle and a number of others of the hand, consists in catching two two-inch beams running overhead, as in the ceiling of a cellar, and about a foot and a half or two feet apart, and walking along, sustaining the whole weight by the grip, first of one hand, then of the other. he who can do this has very unusual strength of fingers. for improving the ordinary grip of the hand, simply taking a rubber ball in it, or a wad of any elastic material, and even of paper, and repeatedly squeezing it, will soon tell. simpler yet is it to just practice opening and shutting the hand firmly many times. an athletic friend of ours says that the man of his whole acquaintance who has the strongest grip got it just by practising this exercise. _to enlarge and strengthen the front of the chest._ every one of the exercises for the biceps tells also on the pectoral muscles, or those on the front of the upper part of the chest, for the two work so intimately together that he who has a large biceps is practically sure to have the adjoining pectoral correspondingly large. but there is other work which tells on them besides biceps work. whenever the hands push hard against anything, and so call the triceps muscles into action, these muscles at once combine with them. in the more severe triceps work, such as the dips, the strain across these chest-muscles is very great, for they are then a very important factor in helping to hold up the weight of the whole body. this fact suggests the folly of letting any one try so severe a thing as a dip, when his triceps and pectoral muscles have not been used to any such heavy work. many a person who has rashly attempted this has had to pay for it with a pain for several days at the edge of the pectoral, where it meets the breastbone, until he concluded he must have broken something. working with the dumb-bells when the arms are extended at right angles with the body, like a cross, and raising them up and down for a foot or so, is one of the best things for the upper edge of the pectorals, or that part next to the collar-bone. this brings us to a matter of great importance, and one often overlooked. whoever knows many gymnasts, and has seen them, stripped or in exercising costume, must occasionally have observed that, while they had worked at exercises which brought up these pectoral muscles until they were almost huge, their chests under their muscles had somehow not advanced accordingly. indeed, in more than one instance which has come under our observation, the man looked as though, should you scrape all these great muscles completely off, leaving the bare framework, he would have actually a small chest, much smaller than many a fellow who had not much muscle. there hangs to-day--or did some time since--on the wall of a well-known new york gymnasium, a portrait of a gymnast stripped above the waist, which shows an exact case in point. the face of such a man is often a weak one, lacking the strength of cheek-bone and jaw so usual in men of great vitality and sturdiness--like morrissey, for instance--and there is a general look about it as if the man lacked vitality. many a gymnast has this appearance, for he takes so much severe muscular work that it draws from his vitality, and gives him a stale and exhausted look, a very common one, for example, among men who remain too long in training for contest after contest of an athletic sort. the getting up, then, of a large chest, and of large muscles on the chest, while often contemporary, and each aiding the other, are too frequently wholly different matters. and how is the large chest to be had? _to broaden and deepen the chest itself._ anything which causes one to frequently fill his lungs to their utmost capacity, and then hold them full as long as he can, tends directly to open his ribs, stretch the intercostal muscles, and so expand the chest. many kinds of vigorous muscular exercise do this when done correctly, for they cause the full breathing, and at the same time directly aid in opening the ribs. it will be observed that frequently throughout these hints about exercising, endeavor has been made to impress on the reader that, when exercising, he should hold the head and neck rigidly erect, and the chest as high as he can. a moment's thought will show why. he, for instance, who "curls" a heavy dumb-bell, but does it with his head and shoulders bent over--as many do--while giving his pectorals active work, is actually tending to cramp his chest instead of expanding it, the very weight of the dumb-bell all pulling in the wrong direction. now, had he held himself rigidly erect, and, first expanding his chest to its utmost by inhaling all the air he possibly could, and holding it in during the effort--a most valuable practice, by-the-way, in all feats calling for a great effort--he would not only have helped to expand his chest, but would find, to his gratification, that he had hit upon a wrinkle which somehow made the task easier than it ever was before. holding the head and neck back of the vertical, say six inches, with the face pointing to the ceiling, and then working with the dumb-bells at arm's-length, as above referred to, is grand for the upper chest, tending to raise the depressed collar-bones and the whole upper ribs, and to make a person hitherto flat-chested now shapely and full; while the benefit to lungs perhaps formerly weak would be hard to over-estimate. steady and protracted running is a great auxiliary in enlarging the lung-room. so is plenty of sparring. so is the practice of drawing air slowly in at the nostrils until every air-cell of the lungs is absolutely full, then holding it long, and then expelling it slowly. most public singers and speakers know the value of this and kindred practices in bringing, with increased diaphragmatic action, improved power and endurance of voice. spreading the parallel bars until they are nearly three feet apart, and doing such arm-work on them as you can, but with your body below and face downward, helps greatly in expanding the chest. so does swinging from the rings or bar overhead, or high parallels, and remaining on them as long as you can. dr. sargent's ingenuity has provided a simple and excellent chest expander. he rigs two ordinary pulleys over blocks some feet above the head, and from five to six feet apart, as in fig. 8, and attaching weights at the floor ends of the ropes, puts ordinary handles on the other ends, and has the ropes just long enough so that when the weights are on the floor the handles are about a foot above the head. now stand between and directly under them, erect, with the chest as full as you can make it, and keeping the elbows straight, and grasping the handles draw your hands slowly downward out at arm's-length, say about two feet. next, let the weights drop gradually back, repeat, and so go on. this is excellent for enlarging the whole chest, but especially for widening it. a better present to a consumptive person than one of these appliances could hardly be devised. [illustration: fig. 8. a chest-widener.] again, to deepen the chest from front to back, he hangs two bars, b and c, as in fig. 9, and attaches the weight at the other end, a, of the rope, the bar b, when at rest, being about a foot above the height of the head. standing, not under b, but about a foot to one side of it, and facing it, grasp its ends with both hands, and keeping the arms and legs straight and stiff, and breathing the chest brimful, draw downward until the bar is about level with the waist. let the weight run slowly back, repeat, and go on. a great advantage of both these contrivances, besides their small cost and simplicity, is that, as in nearly everything dr. sargent has invented, you can graduate the weight to suit the present requirements of the person, however weak or strong he or she may be, and so avoid much risk of overdoing. [illustration: fig. 9. a chest-deepener.] in the exercises above named it will be noticed that there has been a sufficient variety for any given muscles to bring them within the reach of all. after this, how far any one will go in any desired line of development is a matter he can best settle for himself. what allowance of work to take daily will be treated of in the next chapter. footnotes: [m] see fig. 1, on page 36. [n] see page 170. [o] see page 92. chapter xiii. what exercise to take daily. an endeavor has been made thus far to point out how wide-spread is the lack of general bodily exercise among classes whose vocations do not call the muscles into play, and, again, how local and circumscribed is that action even among those who are engaged in most kinds of manual labor. various simple exercises have been described which, if followed steadily and persistently, will bring size, shape, and strength to any desired muscles. it may be well to group in one place a few movements which will enable any one to know at once about what amount and sort of work is to be taken daily. special endeavor will be made to single out such movements as will call for no expensive apparatus. indeed, most of these want no apparatus at all, and hence will be within the reach of all. as it has been urged that the school is the most suitable place to accustom children to the kind and amount of work they particularly need, a few exercises will first be suggested which any teacher can learn almost at once, but which yet, if faithfully taught to pupils, will soon be found to take so little time that, instead of interfering with other lessons, they will prove a positive aid. though perhaps imperceptible at the outset, in a few years, with advancing development, the gain made will be found not only to be decided, but of the most gratifying character. _daily work for children._ suppose the teacher has a class of fifty. if the aisles of the school-room are, as they should be, at least two feet wide, let the children at about the middle of the morning, and again of the afternoon session, stand in these aisles in rows, so that each two of the children shall be about six feet apart. let the first order be, that all heads and necks be held erect. once these are placed in their right position, all other parts of their bodies at once fall into place. the simplest way to insure this is to direct that every head and neck be drawn horizontally back, with the chin held about an inch above the level, until they are an inch or two back of the vertical. now raise the hands directly over the head, and as high as possible, until the thumbs touch, the palms of the hands facing to the front, and the elbows being kept straight. now, without bending the elbows, bring the hands downward in front toward the feet as far as can comfortably be done, generally at first about as low as the knee, taking care to keep the knees themselves absolutely straight; indeed, if possible, bowed even back. now return the hands high over the head, and then repeat, say six times. this number twice a day for the first week will prove enough; and it may be increased to twelve the second week, and maintained at that number thereafter, care being taken to assure two things: one, that the knees are never bent; the other that, after the first week, the hands are gradually brought lower down, until they touch the toes. some persons, familiar with this exercise, can, with the knees perfectly firm and straight, lay the whole flat of the hands on the floor in front of their feet. but after the first week, reaching the floor with the finger-tips is enough for the end sought, which is, namely, to make the pupil stand straight on his feet, and to remove all tendency toward holding the knees slightly bent, and so causing that weak, shaky, and sprung look about the knees, so very common among persons of all ages, to give way to a proper and graceful position. let the pupils now stand erect, this time with backs not bent forward, but with the body absolutely vertical. raise the hands above the head as before, elbows straight, till the thumbs touch. now, never bending body or knees a hair's-breadth, and keeping the elbows unbent, bring the hands slowly down, not in front this time, but at the sides just above the knees, the little finger and the inner edge of the hand alone touching the leg, and the palms facing straight in front. now notice how difficult it is to warp the shoulders forward even an inch. the chest is out, the head and neck are erect, the shoulders are held low, the back vertical and hollowed in a little, and the knees straight. carry the hands slowly back through the same line till again high over the head. then bring them down to the sides again, and do six of these movements twice each day the first week, and twelve afterward. while exercises aimed at any given muscles have been mentioned elsewhere, any one might follow them all up until every muscle was shapely and strong, and still carry himself awkwardly, and even in a slouchy and slovenly manner. this last-named exercise is directly intended to obviate this. if steadily practised, it is one of the very best known exercises, as it not only gives strength, but a fine, erect carriage. the whole frame is so held that every vital organ has free scope and play-room, and their healthier and more vigorous action is directly encouraged. this is one part, indeed the chief exercise, in the west pointer's "setting-up drill;" and all who have ever seen the cadets at the point will at once recall how admirably they succeed in acquiring and retaining a handsome carriage and manly mien. to vary the work a little, and to bring special development to particular muscles, now let the pupil stand with arms either hanging easily at the sides, or else held akimbo, the head and neck always erect, with the heels about four inches apart, and the toes turned outward. raise the heels slowly off the floor, the soles and toes remaining firm on the floor, sustaining the entire weight. when the heels are as high as possible, hold them there a moment; then lower slowly till the whole foot is on the floor again; then rise as before, and so repeat twelve times twice a day the first week, and then twenty-five for the following week, continuing this. if this is not vigorous enough when fifty, after the first month, are tried, it will be found that now this work is telling directly on the size, shape, and effectiveness of the feet and calves, and on the grace and springiness of the step itself. if any boy or girl wants to become a good jumper, or to get decided aid in learning to dance long and easily, he or she will find this a great help. if they even practice it half an hour a day, they will be none the worse for it. all the work thus far recommended here can readily be done in two minutes. standing erect, with the arms still akimbo, and the feet as before, now bend the knees so as to stoop six or eight inches, then rise to the perpendicular, stoop again, and continue this six times, the feet never leaving the floor. this strengthens the knees, while the front of the thighs get the heaviest part of the work, though the leg below the knee is doing a good share. (it is not unlike the exercise practised so assiduously by rowell on the tread-mill, and which brought him such magnificent legs that he became champion pedestrian of the world.) by the third week the number may be made twenty-five. if among the scholars there are some who are decidedly weak, twenty-five of these exercises is about the limit. for strong, hearty boys, twice as many will prove nearer the mark. after two or three months of twenty-five movements as described for every day, fifty might be tried once by all the pupils, to see whether it is too severe, and if not, then maintained daily at the maximum. thus far the feet have not left their particular position on the floor. now let the pupil stand with the right foot advanced about twelve or fifteen inches, suddenly rising on the toes, give a slight spring, and throw the left foot to the front, and the right back; then spring back as before, and do this six times twice a day the first week, to twelve the second, and twice as many by the end of the month. this calls the same muscles into play as the last exercise, and brings the same development, but is a little more severe and vigorous. if still harder thigh-work is wanted, starting again, with the feet not over four inches apart, this time do not raise the heels at all, but stoop down slowly, as low as possible, bending the knees greatly, of course, the back, however, being held straight all the while. then rise to an erect position, then go down again. practising this three times each morning and afternoon at first, may be followed up with six a week later; and twelve by the end of the month. better work than this for quickly giving size and strength to the thighs could hardly be devised; while, as has been already noted, scarcely any muscles on the whole body are more needed or used for ordinary walking. still standing erect, with arms akimbo, raise the right foot in front about as high as the left knee, keeping the right knee unbent. hold the right foot there ten seconds; then drop it; then raise it again, fully six times. then, standing, do the same thing with the left foot. this calls at once on the muscles across the abdomen, aiding the stomach and other vital organs there directly in their work. this time raise the foot equally high behind; then return it to the floor and so continue, giving each foot equal work to do. the under thigh, hip, and loin are now in action; and when, later on, they become strong, their owner will find how much easier it is to run than it used to be, and also that it has become more natural to stand erect. the rate of increase of these last two exercises may be about the same as the others. there is not much left now of the ten minutes. still, if the work has been pushed promptly forward, there may still be a little time. however, all three of the kinds of work suggested for the front thigh need not be practised at the one recess, any one sufficing at first. with head and neck again erect, and knees firm, hold the hands out at the sides and at arm's-length, and clasp the hands firmly together, as though trying to squeeze a rubber ball or other elastic substance. beginning with twenty of these movements, fifty may be accomplished by the end of the fortnight; and by their continuance both the grip and the shape of the hand will be found steadily improving. clasp the hands together over the head. now turn them over until the palms are upward, or turned toward the ceiling, and straighten the elbows until the hands are as high over the head as you can reach. while holding them in this position, be careful that they are not allowed to drop at all. let the scholar march three or four times around the room in this position. it will soon be found that no apparatus whatever is necessary to get quite a large amount of exercise for the corners of the shoulders. in this way, while there is an unwonted stretching apart of the ribs, and opening up of the chest, the drawing in of the stomach and abdomen will be found to correct incipient chest weakness, half-breathing, and any tendency toward indigestion. following up the method, now let the class form around the side of the room, standing three feet apart, and about two feet from the wall. place the hands against the wall, just at a level with and opposite to the shoulders. now, keeping the heels all the time on the floor, let the body settle gradually forward until the chest touches the wall, keeping the elbows pretty near to the sides, the knees never bending a particle, and the face held upturned, the eyes looking at the ceiling directly overhead. now push sharply off from the wall until the elbows are again straight, and the body back at vertical. then repeat this, and continue six times for each half of the day for the first week. keep on until you reach fifteen by the third week, and twenty-five by the second month. for expanding and deepening the chest, helping to poise the head and neck so that they will remain exactly where they belong--in an erect position--and for giving the main part of the upper back-arm quite a difficult piece of work to do, this will prove a capital exercise. whoever will make a specialty of this one form of exercise until they daily take two or even three hundred such pushes, will find that any tendency he or she may have to flatness or hollowness of chest will soon begin to decrease, and will very likely disappear altogether. in this last exercise most of the weight was on the feet, the hands and arms sustaining the rest. if the aisles are not over two feet and a half wide, let each pupil stand between two opposite desks and place one hand on each. now, walking back about three or four feet, his hands still resting on the two desks, let him, keeping his body rigid and knees unbent, bend his elbows and lower his chest very gradually until it is nearly or quite level with the desk tops, then slowly straighten up his arms, and so raise his body again to the original position. three such dips twice a day the first week, five or six the second, and by the end of the month ten or twelve, and that number then maintained steadily, will open and enlarge the chest materially before the year is out, while at the same time doing much to increase and strengthen the upper back-arm. this is harder work than pushing against the wall, because the hands and arms now have to sustain a much greater portion of the weight of the body, but it is correspondingly better for the chest. thus far exercises have been described calling for no apparatus at all, nor anything save a floor to stand on, a wall to push against, two ordinary school desks, and a fair degree of resolution. for children under ten, wooden dumb-bells, weighing one pound each, ought to be had of any wood-turner, and ought not to cost over five cents apiece. there might be one pair of dumb-bells given to each child, or, if the class is large, then a single dumb-bell for each, and they could be distributed among two classes for dumb-bell exercises. standing in the aisles, and about five feet apart, every child taking a dumb-bell in each hand, keeping the knees unbent and the head and neck erect, let them raise or "curl" the bells slowly until they are up to the shoulders, the finger-nails being held upward. then lower, then raise again, and so on ten or twelve times each half-day for the first fortnight, and double that many thereafter. this tells principally on the biceps or front of the upper arm, on the front of the shoulder, and on the pectoral muscles, or those of the upper front chest. when, later on, any pupil endeavors to pull himself up to his chin, he will find what a large share of the work these muscles have to do. instead of the one-pound dumb-bells then, his whole body will be the weight to be lifted. again, let the dumb-bells hang at the sides. raise them slowly, high up, behind the back, keeping the elbows straight and the arms parallel. after holding them there five seconds lower them; do it again, and keep on, ten times twice a day at first, making it twenty in a fortnight, and thirty thereafter. this work will enlarge that part of the back of the upper arm next to the body, and will also tell directly on the whole back of the shoulder, and on the large muscles on the back just below where the arm joins it. this time, holding the knuckles upward and the elbows straight, lift the dumb-bells till level with the shoulders, the arms being extended sideways as if on a cross. after holding them up five seconds, lower them; then raise them but five or six times at the first lesson, increasing to twenty by the end of the month, and then maintaining that number. the corners of the shoulders are getting the work now, and by-and-by not only shapely shoulders will come from it, but a noticeable increase of the breadth across the shoulders. this work may be varied by raising the arms parallel in front until level with the shoulders, then lowering, and so continuing. next raise the two bells to the shoulders; then, facing the ceiling, push both up together until they are as high over the head as possible; then lower, push up again, and continue six times twice a day for the first week; make the twelve the third week and the twenty of the fifth, and then keep at that. the outer or more noticeable parts of the upper back, the arms, are busiest now; and this exercise directly tends to enlarge and strengthen them, and to add materially to the appearance of the arms. but one exercise more need be mentioned here. stand erect; now draw the head and neck back of the vertical all of eight inches, until you face the ceiling. starting with the dumb-bells high up over the head, keeping the elbows straight, lower the dumb-bells slowly, until now you are holding them at arm's-length, with your arms spread, as on a cross. then lift them up again, lower, and continue. if this does not spread the chest open, it will be hard to find anything which will. do this consecutively twenty times every day for a month. that number will take scarcely a minute to accomplish, but the little one-pound bells will feel wondrously heavy before the minute is over. here, then, have been shown quite a variety of exercises, not only safe and simple but inexpensive, which can readily be adopted in any school. if they are followed up as faithfully and steadily as are the other lessons, they cannot fail to bring decided and very welcome improvement in the shape and capacity of all the muscles, and hence of the whole body, while it will go far toward giving to all the scholars an erect and healthy carriage. these results alone would delight many a parent's heart. the making this branch of instruction as compulsory as any other would soon accustom the pupil to look for it as matter of course. if it were conducted with spirit, it would always be sure to prove interesting, and very likely to send the children back to their studies much fresher and brighter for the temporary mental rest. besides these exercises, the teacher, insisting on the value of an erect position in school hours, whether the pupil be standing or sitting, and by inculcating the value of this, would soon find that these efforts were being rewarded by making many a crooked girl or boy straight, and so lessening their chance of having either delicate throats or weak lungs. care should be taken that the school chairs have broad and comfortable seats, and that the pupil never sits on a half of the seat or on the edge of it, but far back, and on the whole of it. this apparently small matter will assist marvellously in forming the habit of an erect position while sitting. some twenty years ago a mrs. carman, of boston, devised a chair-back which should just fit the hollow of the back when the back was held erect, as it should be. this simple contrivance greatly encouraged a good position in sitting, and could well be made a part of the standard chair in our schools. a pad of the right shape, hung on the back of the chair, would effect the same object. the teacher's opportunity to work marked and permanent physical benefit to every pupil under her charge, by daily and steadily following up most or either of the above exercises, or of some substantially equivalent, can scarcely be over-estimated. the exercises strengthen the postures, whether sitting or standing. when a teacher insists on having her children erect for six hours out of the twenty-four, and makes plain to each one the value of being straight, and the self-respect it tends directly to encourage, there need be no great fear that the remaining waking hours will make any child crooked. it is in school generally that the mischief of warping and crooking is done; and hence there, of all places, would be the most appropriate place for the undoing of it. dumb-bells of but a pound each have been mentioned here so far. such would be fitting for pupils under ten years of age. for all older pupils the same work with two-pound bells will prove generally vigorous enough; and whoever wishes to judge what these light weights can do in a short time should examine the results of dr. sargent's exercises with them and other light apparatus at bowdoin college (see appendix ii.). those who are already decidedly strong can of course try larger bells; but it is astonishing how soon those of only two pounds seem to grow heavy, even to those who laugh at them at first. of course, all the work before described cannot be gone through with in ten minutes in mid-morning, or even in the twenty of the morning and afternoon sessions combined; but much of it can: and an advantage of naming too much is that it enables the teacher to vary the work from day to day, and so, while effecting the same results, prevents anything like monotony. as the months go by, and it is found that the weaker ones have noticeably improved, and all are now capable of creditable performances at these various exercises, they may be carried safely on to the gymnasium--that is, if the school is fortunate enough to possess one. it is but a partially equipped school which is not provided with a good-sized, well-ventilated room, say of forty or fifty feet square (and one fifty by a hundred would do far better), fitted up with the simpler gymnastic appliances. now the teacher, if up to his work, can render even more valuable assistance than before, by standing by the pupil, as he or she attempts the simplest steps on the parallel bars, or the rings, or the high bars, the pulley-weights, or the horizontal bar; constant explanations are to be given how to advance, and setting the example, detecting defects and correcting them on the spot, and all the while being ready to catch the pupil and prevent him or her from falling. an instructor soon finds that the pupils progress as rapidly as they did in the lighter preparatory work, while now they are entering on a field which, if faithfully cultivated, though for only the same brief intervals daily, will later on insure a class of strong, healthy, shapely, and symmetrical boys or girls, strong of arm and fleet of foot, familiar with what they can do, and knowing what is not to be attempted. much, indeed the greater part, of the good to be derived from the gymnasium would have come from steadily adhering to the exercises above pointed out, so that even with no gymnasium excellent progress can be had; but results come quicker in the gymnasium, and the place invites greater freedom of action. in ten minutes in the morning, for instance, thirty or forty boys or girls could, following one another promptly, "walk" (on their hands) through the parallel bars with the elbows unbent, the head of the line crossing at once to the high bars, and "walk" or advance through them, first holding the weight on one hand and then on the other, then turning to the horizontal bar and vaulting over it. if the rear of the line is not yet through the forward "walk" on the parallels, those at the head could take a swing on the rings. next, they could "walk" backward through the parallels, then through the high bars; then vault again, swing again, and then try the parallels anew--this time "jumping" forward, or advancing both hands at once, the arms of course being held rigidly straight. then turning to the high bars, they could jump or advance through them, springing forward with both hands at once, vault again, the bar having meanwhile been raised, and either try the rings again or rest a moment, and then jump backward through the high bars. a little foot-work, for a minute or two remaining, would make a good conclusion. with the hands closed and elbows bent, the body and arms held almost rigid, the neck well back, and the head up, let the column now start off around the room on an easy trot, each stepping as noiselessly as possible, and no heel touching the floor. a minute of this at a lively pace will be abundant at first; and as the legs gradually get strong, and the breathing improves, the run can be either made faster or longer, or both. as the pupils began to grow steadier, with their hands on the bars they could next swing their feet back and forth, and jump with their hands as they swing forward; then, later, could jump forward as the feet are swung backward, and backward as the feet are swung forward. the vaulting-bar for the boys meanwhile may steadily rise, peg after peg; and, when proficiency is reached with two hands, one-hand vaulting may be tried, and the bar gradually raised as before, the teacher always standing near the vaulter. the swinging on the rings, instead of being any longer simple straight-arm work, with the body hanging nearly down, can now be done with the elbows bent much of the time, the knees being curled up toward the chin as the swinger goes backward. after two months of straight-arm work on the parallel bars, even the girls may now try the same exercises they did with their arms when straight, save that now they should always keep them bent at the elbows. this will come hard even yet, and must be tried with care. these are the well-known "dips," followed up little by little, and month after month. by-and-by these exercises will come as easy as was the straight-arm work. to all, or nearly all, the high bar work should now be done with bent elbows, while the vaulting should, say by the end of the year, be nearly at shoulder height for each pupil, and even, for many of them, that high with one hand. the running should have improved correspondingly, so that five minutes of it at a respectable pace, say at the rate of a mile in seven minutes, would not trouble the girls, and even ten minutes of it not distress the boys. now, what have these few exercises done for the muscles and their owners? well, the straight-arm work on the parallels, by throwing the whole weight on the hands, told directly on the upper back-arm, while the dips brought the same region into most vigorous action, and at the same time opened and strengthened the front of the chest very markedly, tending to set the shoulders back, and enlarging the chest, and hence the lung-room as well. the high-bar work told equally upon the biceps muscles, or those of the front of the upper arm, and likewise on the front of the shoulders. the vaulting made the vaulter springy, and strengthened his thighs and calves materially, and his abdominal muscles somewhat, while the more advanced work on the rings brought both the biceps and abdominal muscles into most energetic play. the running was excellent for the entire legs and the abdominals, while as a lung-expander it is difficult to equal. those proficient at these few exercises, if they have heeded the endeavors made to secure at all times an erect and easy carriage of the body, need but one more thing. with regular and sensible habits of eating, sleeping, dressing, and bathing, they would be almost certain to be at once well and strong. the thing wanted is daily constitutional out-of-doors exercise; whether taken afoot, on horseback, or at the oar, it matters little, so long as it is vigorously taken and faithfully persisted in, in all weathers. this guarantees that pure and bracing air shall be had, breaks up the thread of the day's thoughts, rests the mind, and quickly refits it for new work. this alone gives the full deep breathing, and the healthy tire of the muscles. it furnishes constantly varying scene, with needed eye and ear gymnastics--in short, everything which is the reverse of that quiet, sedentary, plodding life over books or papers, read too often in poorly lighted offices. home exercise, then, with the out-of-door life, will combine to tone us up, to invigorate our persons, and to keep off either mental or physical exhaustion and disorder. the above work, followed up assiduously, ought to bring in its train health, symmetry, a good carriage, buoyant spirits, and a fair share of nerve and agility. but many a young man is not content with merely these; he wants to be very strong. he is already at or near his majority. he is quite strong, perhaps, in some ways, but in others is plainly deficient. what ought he to do? _daily exercise for young men._ on rising, let him stand erect, brace his chest firmly out, and, breathing deeply, curl dumb-bells (each of about one-fifteenth of his own weight) fifty times without stopping. this is biceps work enough for the early morning. then, placing the bells on the floor at his feet, and bending his knees a little, and his arms none at all, rise to an upright position with them fifty times. the loins and back have had their turn now. after another minute's rest, standing erect, let him lift the bells fifty times as far up and out behind him as he can, keeping elbows straight, and taking care, when the bells reach the highest point behind, to hold them still there a moment. now the under side of his arms, and about the whole of the upper back, have had their work. next, starting with the bells at the shoulders, push them up high over the head, and lower fifty times continuously. now the outer part of the upper arms, the corners of the shoulders, and the waist have all had active duty. finally, after another minute's rest, start with the bells high over the head, and lower slowly until the arms are in about the position they would be on a cross, the elbows being always kept unbent. raise the bells to height again, then lower, and so continue until you have done ten, care being taken to hold the head six or more inches back of the perpendicular, and to steadily face the ceiling directly overhead, while the chest is swelled out to its uttermost. rest half a minute after doing ten, then do ten more, and so on till you have accomplished fifty. this last exercise is one of the best-known chest-expanders. now that these five sorts of work are over, few muscles above the waist have not had vigorous and ample work, the lungs themselves have had a splendid stretch, and you have not spent over fifteen minutes on the whole operation. if you want to add a little hand and forearm work, catch a broom-stick or stout cane at or near the middle, and, holding it at arm's-length, twist it rapidly from side to side a hundred times with one hand, and then with the other. in the late afternoon a five-mile walk on the road, at a four-mile pace, with the step inclined to be short, the knees bent but little, and the foot pushing harder than usual as it leaves the ground--this will be found to bring the legs and loins no inconsiderable exercise; all, in fact, that they will probably need. if, shortly before bedtime each evening, the youth, after he has been working as above, say for a month, will, in light clothes and any old and easy shoes, run a mile in about seven minutes and a half, and, a little later, under the seven minutes, or, three nights a week, make the distance two miles each night, there will soon be a life and vigor in his legs which used to be unknown; and if six months of this work brings a whole inch more on thigh and calf, it is only what might have been expected. for still more rapid and decided advance, an hour at the gymnasium during the latter part of the morning, half of it at the rowing-weights, so thickening and stoutening the back, and the other half at "dipping" and other half-arm work on the parallel bars--so spreading and enlarging the chest and stoutening the back-arms--these will increase the development rapidly, and will sharpen the appetite at a corresponding rate. but it must be real work, and no dawdling or time lost. few young men in any active employment, however, can spare this morning hour. still, without it, if they will follow up the before-breakfast work, the walking in the fashion named, and the running, they will soon find time enough for this much, and most satisfactory results in the way of improved health and increased strength as well. indeed, it will for most young men prove about the right amount to keep them toned up and ready for their day's work. if they desire great development in any special line, let them select some of the exercises described in the previous chapter, as aimed to effect such development, and practice them as assiduously, if need be, as rowell did his tread-mill work for his legs. _daily exercise for women._ and what should the girls and women do each day? with two-pound wooden dumb-bells at first, let them, before breakfast, go through twenty-five movements of each of the five sorts just described for young men. after six weeks or two months they can increase the number to fifty, and, if this does not bring the desired increase in size, and strength of arm and chest and back, then they can try dumb-bells weighing four or five pounds each. out-of-doors, either in the latter part of the morning or afternoon, if they will, in broad, easy shoes, walk for one hour, not at any listless two-mile pace, but at first as fast as they comfortably can, and then gradually increasing until in a fortnight or more they can make sure of three miles and a half at least, if not of four miles within the hour, and will observe the way of stepping just suggested to the men, they will get about walking enough. and if once in awhile, every saturday, for instance, they make the walk all of five or six miles, getting, if city ladies, quite out into the suburbs and back, they will be surprised and gratified at the greater ease with which they can walk now than formerly, and at their freshness at the end. recent reports from india say that english ladies there often spend two or three hours daily in the saddle. every american lady who can manage to ride that much, or half of it, and at a strong, brisk pace, will soon have a health and vigor almost unknown among our women and girls to-day. if walking and horseback parties, instead of being, as now, well-nigh unheard of among our girls, were every-day affairs, and there was not a point of interest within ten miles which every girl, and woman too, did not know well, it would prove a benefit both to them and to the next generation which would be almost incalculable. girls should also learn to run. few of them are either easy or graceful runners; but it is an accomplishment quickly learned; and begun at a short distance and slow jog, and continued until the girl thinks nothing of running a mile in seven minutes, and that without once touching a heel to the ground, it will do more than almost any other known exercise to make her graceful and easy on her feet, and also to enlarge and strengthen her lungs. a roomy school-yard, a bit of lawn, or a gymnasium-track, either of these is all the place needed in which to learn this now almost obsolete accomplishment. the gymnasium is perhaps the best place, as there they can wear costumes which do not impede freedom of movement. if besides these things the girl or woman will determine that, as much as possible of the time each day in which she is sitting down, she will sit with head and neck up, trunk erect, and with shoulders low, and that whenever she stands or walks she will at all times be upright, she will shortly find that she is getting to be far straighter than she was, and, if she has a larger and finer chest than formerly, it will be nothing strange, for she has simply been using one of the means to get it. if a still greater variety of daily work is desired, she can select it from chapter xii.; the exercises on the pulley-weights and on the apparatus sketched in fig. 8 being especially desirable. _daily exercise for business men._ and what daily work shall the business man take? his aim is not to lay on muscle, not to become equal to this or that athletic feat, but simply to so exercise as to keep his entire physical and mental machinery in good working order, and himself equal to all demands likely to be made on him. first he, like the young man or the woman, should make sure of the ten or fifteen minutes' work before breakfast. not through the long day again will he be likely to have another good opportunity for physical exercise, at least until evening, and then he will plead that he is too tired. but in the early morning, fresh and rested, and with a few minutes at his disposal, he can, as bryant did, without serious or violent effort, work himself great benefit, the good effect of which will stay by him all the day. if he has in his room the few bits of apparatus suggested in the chapter on "home gymnasiums," he will be better off than bryant was, in that he can have a far wider range of exercise, and that all ready at hand. let him first devote two or three minutes to the striking-bag. facing it squarely, with head back and chest well out, let him strike it a succession of vigorous blows, with left and right fists alternating, until he has done a hundred in all. if he has hit hard and with spirit, he is puffing freely now, his lungs are fully expanded, his legs have had a deal of springing about to do, and his arms and chest have been busiest of all. this bag-work is really superb exercise, and if once or twice, later in the day, say at one's place of business, or at home again in the evening, he would take some more of it, he would find fret, discomfort, and indigestion flying to the winds, and in their place buoyancy and exhilaration of spirits to which too many men have long been strangers. next grasp the handles in fig. 8 and bear downward, as described on page 249. repeat this work for about two minutes, standing all the time thoroughly erect. whether the sparring left any part of your chest unfilled or not, every air-cell is expanded now, while you cannot fail to be pleased with the thorough way in which this simple contrivance does its work. care should of course be taken that the air breathed during these exercises is pure and fresh. now use the dumb-bells two or three minutes. let them weigh not over one twenty-fifth of your own weight. first, with head and neck a trifle back of vertical, and the chest held out as full as possible, curl the bells, or lift them from down at arm's-length until you have drawn them close up to the shoulders, the finger-nails being turned upward. lower again and repeat until you have done twenty-five, the chest being always out. the biceps muscles, or those of the front upper arm, and of the front of the shoulders and chest, have been busy now. next, starting with the bells at your shoulders, push both at once steadily up over your head as high as you can reach, and continue till twenty-five are accomplished. the back-arms, corners of the shoulders, and the waist have now had their turn. facing the pulley-weights (fig. 4), and standing about two feet from them, catch a handle in each hand. keeping the elbows stiff, draw first one hand and then the other in a horizontal line until your hand is about eighteen inches behind you, the body and legs being at all times held rigidly erect, and the chest well out. continue this until you have done fifty strokes with each hand. this is excellent for the back of the shoulders--indeed for nearly the entire back above the waist. again, with back to the pulley-weights, hold the handles high over the head, and leaning forward about a foot, keeping the elbows unbent, bear the handles directly downward in front of you, and so do twenty-five. besides these few things, or most of them, put the bar (fig. 3) in the upper place, and, catching it with both hands, just swing back and forth, at first for half a minute, afterward longer, always holding the head well back. this is capital at stretching the ribs apart and expanding the chest. if the above exercises seem too hard at first, begin with half as much, or even less, and work gradually up until the number named can be easily done. if, once in mid-morning and again in mid-afternoon, the man, right in his store or office, will turn for two or three minutes to his dumb-bells, and repeat what he did with his home pair in the morning, he will find the rest and change most refreshing. but in any case, whether he does so or not, _every man in this country whose life is in-door ought to so divide his time that, come what may, he will make sure of his hour out-of-doors in the late afternoon, when the day's work is nearly or quite done_. if he must get up earlier, or get to his work earlier, or work faster while he does work, no matter. the prize is well worth any such sacrifice, and even five times it. emerson well says, "the first wealth is health," and no pains should be spared to secure it. lose it awhile and see. exercise vigorously that hour afoot, or horseback, or on the water, making sure that during it you utterly ignore your business and usual thoughts. walk less at first, but soon do your four miles in the hour, and then stick to that, of course having shoes in which it is easy to walk, and before long the good appetite of boyhood will return, food taste as it often has not done for years, sound sleep will be surer, and new life and zest will be infused into all that you do. let every man in this country who lives by brain-work get this daily "constitutional" at all hazards, and it will do more to secure to him future years of health and usefulness than almost anything else he can do. it will be observed that there is nothing severe or violent in any of these exercises suggested for men--nothing that old or young may not take with like advantage. the whole idea is to point out a plain and simple plan of exercise, which, followed up faithfully, will make sound health almost certain, and which is easily within the reach of all. _daily exercise for consumptives._ and what should these people do? if there is one good lung left, or a goodly portion of two, there is much which they can do. before breakfast they need to be more careful than others because of their poorer circulation. still, in a warm and comfortable room they can work to advantage even then. in most instances consumptives have not large enough chests. stripped to the waist, there is found to be a flatness of the upper chest, a lack of depth straight through from breastbone to spine; and the girth about the chest itself, and especially at the lower part of it, is often two or more inches less than it is in a well-built person of the same height. now, to weed out these defects, to swell up and enlarge the chest, and bring it proper breadth, and depth, and fulness, this will go far toward insuring healthy and vigorous lungs. and how is this done? standing under the handles in an appliance like that represented in fig. 8, holding the body rigidly erect, the chest out, the knees and elbows unbent, bear the two handles downward on either side of you until the hands are as if extended on a cross, using only very light weights at first. lower the weights again, then bear down again, and so do ten. just as you bear down each time, inflate the lungs to their utmost, and hold the air in them until you have lowered the weights again. rest about a minute, then do ten more, and a little later ten more. this will be enough before breakfast work the first week. at breakfast, and whenever sitting down throughout the day, determine to do two things--to sit far back on your chair, and to sit at all times upright. no matter how many times you forget or fail, even if a thousand, keep trying until the erect posture becomes habitual. this point once reached, you have accomplished a great thing--one which may aid not a little to save your life. next, about an hour after breakfast, start out for an easy walk. going quietly at first, the head held, if anything, back of the vertical, and the step short and springy; quicken later into a lively pace, and, holding that as long as you comfortably can, return to your room. if your skin is moist, do not hesitate a minute, but strip at once, and with coarse towels rub your skin till it is thoroughly red all over, and then put on dry under-clothing. if you then feel like taking a nap, take it. when well rested, do thirty more strokes at the pulley-weights. in the afternoon try more walking, or some horseback work if you can get a steed with any dash in him. after you are through, then more weight work. finally, just before retiring, take another turn at the weights. after the first week run the weight work up to fifty at a time, and increase the out-door distance covered both morning and afternoon, being sure to go in all weathers, and to eat and sleep all you comfortably can. vary the in-door work also somewhat. in addition to the exercise on fig. 8, practice now an equal number of strokes daily on the appliance described as fig. 9, and in the fashion described on page 249. after the first fortnight try hanging by the two hands on the horizontal bar and swinging lightly back and forth. before breakfast, before dinner, before supper, and just before retiring, take a turn at this swinging. of it, and the work on the two sorts of pulley-weights, a weak-lunged person can scarcely do enough. these open the ribs apart, broaden and deepen the chest, and inflate the lungs--the very things the consumptive needs. the out-door work secures him or her ample good air, vigorous exercise, and frequent change of scene. on the value of this good air, or rather of the danger of bad air, hear langenbeck, the great german anatomist: "i am sure now of what i suspected long ago, viz., that pulmonary diseases have very little to do with intemperance, *â *â * and much less with cold weather, but are nearly exclusively (if we except tuberculous tendencies inherited from _both_ parents, i say _quite_ exclusively) produced by the breathing of foul air." this out-door work should also be steadily increased until the half-hour's listless walk at first becomes six or eight miles before dinner, and as much more before supper. from breakfast to supper one can hardly be exercising out-of-doors too much; and steadily calling on the heart and lungs in these very favorable ways, increased vigor and power are only what might have reasonably been looked for. as the months roll on, and this steady work, directed right to the weak spots, has strengthened and toughened you, now put larger weights on the fig. 8 appliance, and also increase the number of strokes until you do a thousand or even two thousand daily--head and body always being held erect, and full breathing a constant accompaniment. this making a specialty of these chest-expanding exercises, none of which are severe or violent, but which are still vigorous enough, and the abundance of healthy and active out-door life, are sure to bring good fruits in this battle where the stake is no less than one's own life. they are rational and vigorous means, aimed directly at the weak part, and, with good air, good food, cheerful friends, and ample sleep, will often work marvels, where the filling the stomach with a whole apothecary shop of nauseous oils and other medicines has wholly failed to bring the relief sought. these exercises taken by a man already healthy at once tone him up and invigorate him, until he begins to have something of the feeling of the sturdy pioneer, as described by dr. mitchell.[p] and if the delicate person tries the same means, using them judiciously and carefully, it is but natural that he should find similar results. some years ago dr. g----, of boston, showed us a photograph of himself taken several years previously. the shoulders were warped forward, the chest looked flat, almost hollow, and the face and general appearance suggested a delicate man. he said he inclined to be consumptive. well, by practising breathing, not on an ordinary "blowing-machine," where you empty your lungs of about all that is in them, but on an inspirometer, from which instead you inhale every inch of air you can, and by practising vigorous working of his diaphragm, he had so expanded his lungs that he could inhale three hundred and eighty cubic inches of air at one breath! certainly the depth of his chest at the later period was something astounding, it being, as nearly as we could judge without calipers, all of fourteen inches through, directly from breastbone to spine, while it was a strikingly broad chest as well. but an even more astonishing feature was the tremendous power of his voice. he said that at the end of half an hour's public singing with the opera singers (for he was skilled at that), while they would be hot and perspiring he was only just warming up and getting ready for his work. one thing all who ever heard him sing would quickly concede, namely, that seldom had they anywhere heard so immense a voice as his. he said that he had also run two blocks in one breath. he looked about the farthest remove from a consumptive--a short, stout, fat man, rather. now the in-door chest work above recommended, and the steady and vigorous daily out-door work, all aiming to deepen and strengthen the lungs, are well-nigh sure to bring decidedly favorable results; while the doctor's habit of frequent, deep, and slow inhaling, cannot fail to work great good, and can hardly be practised enough. after he of weak lungs has once built them up again and regained the former vigor, he should not only be sure of his daily in-door exercise and of his constitutional, but of a longer outing daily than a stronger man would need. president day, of yale, said to have been a consumptive at seventeen, by good care of his body lived to be ninety-five, and it is far from uncommon for delicate persons, who take good care of the small stock of vigor they have, to outlive sturdier ones who are more prodigal and careless. footnotes: [p] see page 77. appendix i. _showing the average state of the development of 200 men upon entering the bowdoin college gymnasium, from the classes of '73, '74, '75, '76, and '77._ +-------------------+------------------------------+ |age | 18.3 years. | +-------------------+--------------+---------------+ |height | 5 ft. 8 in. | 67.974 in. | |weight | 135 lbs. | 134.981 lbs. | |chest (inflated.) | 35 in. | 35.067 in. | |chest (contracted) | 32-1/4 in. | 32.29 in. | |forearm | 10 in. | 10.03 in. | |upper arm (flexed) | 11 in. | 10.960 in. | |shoulders (width) | 15-1/2 in. | 15.602 in. | |hips | 31-1/2 in. | 31.475 in. | |thigh | 19-1/2 in. | 19.612 in. | |calf | 12-1/2 in. | 12.729 in. | +-------------------+--------------+---------------+ appendix ii. _showing the average state of the growth and development of the same number of men (200) after having practised in the bowdoin gymnasium_ half an hour a day _four times a week, for a period of six months, under dr. sargent._ +-------------------+------------------+---------------+ |height | 5 ft. 8-1/4 in.| 68.254 in. | |weight | 137 lbs. | 137.123 lbs. | |chest (inflated) | 36-3/4 in. | 36.829 in. | |chest (contracted) | 33 in. | 33.206 in. | |forearm | 10-3/4 in. | 10.760 in. | |upper arm (flexed) | 12 in. | 11.903 in. | |shoulders (width) | 16-1/4 in. | 16.260 in. | |hips | 33-3/4 in. | 33.875 in. | |thigh | 21 in. | 20.964 in. | |calf | 13-1/4 in. | 13.232 in. | +------------------+-------------------+---------------+ in this case the apparatus used was light dumb-bells, 2-1/2 lbs.; indian clubs, 3-1/2 lbs.; pulley-weights, from 10 to 15 lbs. appendix iii. _showing average increase of 200 students at bowdoin college, in various measurements, after working but half an hour a day four times a week, for six months, under dr. sargent._ +---------------------------------------+------------+ |average increase in height | 1/4 in. | |average increase in weight | 2 lbs. | |average increase of chest (contracted) | 3/4 in. | |average increase of chest (inflated) | 1-3/4 in. | |average increase of girth of forearm | 3/4 in. | |average increase of girth of upper arm | 1 in. | |average increase of width of shoulders | 3/4 in. | |average increase of girth of hips | 2-1/4 in. | |average increase of girth of thigh | 1-1/2 in. | |average increase of girth of calf | 3/4 in. | +---------------------------------------+------------+ appendix iv. _showing the effect of four hours' exercise a week for one year upon a youth of 19, at bowdoin college, under dr. sargent's direction. this was two hours' work more each week than was required of the regular classes._ +-----------------+---------+-----------+-----------+----------+ |s----. |date | nov., '73 | nov., '74 | increase | +-----------------+---------+-----------+-----------+----------+ |age. |yrs. | 19 | 20 | | |height. |ft. in. | 5 8 | 5 9 | 1 | |weight. |lbs. |145 |160 |15 | |chest (inflat.). |in. | 36-1/2 | 40 | 3-1/2 | |chest (cont.). |in. | 33-1/2 | 34-1/4 | 3/4 | |forearm. |in. | 10-1/4 | 11 | 3/4 | |upper arm. |in. | 12-1/4 | 13-3/4 | 1-1/2 | |shoulders. |in. | 15-3/4 | 17 | 1-1/4 | |hips. |in. | 35 | 36-1/2 | 1-1/2 | |thight. |in. | 19-3/4 | 22 | 2-1/4 | |calf. |in. | 13-1/2 | 15 | 1-1/2 | +-----------------+---------+-----------+-----------+----------+ appendix v. _taken from maclaren's "physical education." showing effect of four months and twelve days' exercise, under his system, on fifteen youths ranging from 16 to 19 years of age._ return of course of gymnastic training at the royal military academy, woolwich, from feb. 10th, 1863, to june 22d, 1863. +---+----------------------------------------------------+ | | measurements, etc. | +---+------+---------+---------+--------+--------+-------+ |no.| age. | height. | weight. |chest. |forearm.| upper | | | | | | | | arm. | +---+------+---------+---------+--------+--------+-------+ | | yrs. | ft. in. |st. lbs. | in. | in. | in. | | | | | | | | | |1 | 18 | 5 1-1/4 | 7 8 | 29-1/2 | 9-1/2 | 8-3/4 | | | | 5 2-1/4 | 7 8 | 30 | 9-1/2 | 9-1/2 | |2 | 19 | 5 8-1/2 | 9 5-1/2 | 28 | 11 | 10-1/4| | | | 5 8-3/4 | 9 11 | 31-1/2 | 11 | 11-3/8| |3 | 17 | 5 5-3/4 | 9 1 | 26-1/2 | | 8-1/2 | | | | 5 6-1/8 | 9 1 | 29-1/2 | 10-3/8 | 10 | |4 | 18 | 5 8-1/4 | 10 0 | 33 | 10-3/4 | 10-1/4| | | | 5 8-1/2 | 10 3 | 35 | 10-3/4 | 11-1/2| |5 | 18 | 6 0-1/2 | 10 13 | 32 | 10-1/2 | 9-1/4 | | | | 6 1-1/4 | 11 2 | 34 | 10-1/2 | 10-7/8| |6 | 17 | 5 3-1/2 | 8 1 | 31 | 10-1/8 | 9-7/8 | | | | 5 4-1/2 | 8 7 | 33 | 10-1/8 | 11 | |7 | 18 | 5 5-1/4 | 7 13 | 26 | 9-1/4 | 7-7/8 | | | | 5 5-3/4 | 8 2 | 29 | 9-1/2 | 9-1/2 | |8 | 16 | 5 6-3/4 | 8 3 | 28-1/2 | 9 | 8-1/2 | | | | 5 7-1/4 | 8 4 | 31 | 9-1/8 | 9-1/2 | |9 | 17 | 5 8-3/8 | 11 3 | 31 | 11-1/4 | 10-1/4| | | | 5 9-1/8 | 11 3 | 33 | 11-1/4 | 11-1/8| |10 | 18 | 5 11-3/8| 11 8 | 30 | 10-1/4 | 10-1/2| | | | 5 11-3/8| 11 8 | 33 | 10-3/4 | 11 | |11 | 19 | 5 7-3/4 | 10 2 | 33 | 10-1/2 | 10-1/4| | | | 5 8-5/8 | 10 2 | 34-1/2 | 10-1/2 | 10-7/8| |12 | 18 | 5 10-1/2| 10 11 | 32 | 10-1/2 | 10 | | | | 5 11-7/8| 10 11 | 33-1/2 | 10-1/2 | 11 | |13 | 19 | 5 7-7/8 | 11 13 | 33 | 11-1/2 | 12 | | | | 5 9-5/8 | 11 13 | 35-1/2 | 11-1/2 | 12-1/2| |14 | 17 | 5 6-3/4 | 9 13 | 29 | 10-5/8 | 8-1/4 | | | | 5 7-5/8 | 10 3 | 32 | 10-5/8 | 9-1/2 | |15 | 19 | 5 10-1/8| 10 1 | 27-1/2 | 10-5/8 | 9-3/8 | | | | 5 11-7/8| 10 9 | 32-3/4 | 10-5/8 | 10-7/8| +---+------+---------+---------+--------+--------+-------+ +---+---------------------------------------+ | | increase. | +---+-------+-------+------+--------+-------+ |no.|height.|weight.|chest.|forearm.| upper | | | | | | | arm. | +---+-------+-------+------+--------+-------+ | | in. | lbs. | in. | in. | in. | | | | | | | | |1 | 1 | " | 1/2 | " | 3/4 | |2 | 1/4 | 5-1/2 | 3-1/2| " | 1-1/8 | |3 | 3/8 | " | 3 | " | 1-1/2 | |4 | 1/4 | 3 | 2 | " | 1-1/4 | |5 | 3/4 | 3 | 2 | " | 1-5/8 | |6 | 1 | 6 | 2 | " | 1-1/8 | |7 | 1/2 | 3 | 3 | 1/4 | 1-5/8 | |8 | 1/2 | 1 | 2-1/2| 1/8 | 1 | |9 | 3/4 | " | 2 | " | 7/8 | |10 | " | " | 3 | 1/2 | 1/2 | |11 | 7/8 | " | 1-1/2| " | 5/8 | |12 | 1-3/8 | " | 1-1/2| " | 1 | |13 | 1-3/4 | " | 2-1/2| " | 1/2 | |14 | 7/8 | 4 | 3 | " | 1/4 | |15 | 1-3/4 | 8 | 5-1/4| " | 1-1/2 | +---+-------+-------+------+--------+-------+ appendix vi. _taken from maclaren's "physical education." showing effect of seven months and nineteen days' exercise, under his system, on men ranging from 19 to 28 years of age._ table of measurements of first detachment of non-commissioned officers selected to be qualified as military gymnastic instructors. +-----------+-----+----------------------------------------------------+ | | | measurements, etc. | | | +-------+---------+----------+-------+-------+-------+ | date. | no. | a. | b. | c. | d. | e. | f. | +-----------+-----+-------+---------+----------+-------+-------+-------+ | | | yrs. | ft. in. | st. lbs. | in. | in. | in. | | sept. 11. | 1 | 19 | 5 8-1/2| 9 2 | 33 | 9-1/2| 10 | | april 30. | | | 5 8-7/8| 10 1 | 37-1/2| 10-1/2| 11-3/4| | sept. 11. | 2 | 21 | 5 9 | 10 5 | 34-3/4| 10 | 11 | | april 30. | | | 5 9-1/4| 11 1 | 38-1/2| 11 | 12-1/4| | sept 11. | 3 | 23 | 5 5 | 9 7 | 34 | 10-1/2| 12 | | april 30. | | | 5 5-3/4| 10 2 | 37-1/4| 11-1/2| 13-1/4| | sept. 11. | 4 | 23 | 5 7-1/4| 9 13 | 37 | 10-1/4| 12 | | april 30. | | | 5 7-3/4| 10 8 | 38-1/2| 11-1/2| 13 | | sept. 11. | 5 | 23 | 5 8-1/4| 9 10 | 36 | 10 | 11 | | april 30. | | | 5 8-1/2| 10 6 | 37 | 10-1/2| 12 | | sept. 11. | 6 | 23 | 5 9-1/8| 11 3 | 36-1/2| 11 | 12 | | april 30. | | | 5 9-1/4| 11 12 | 38-1/2| 11-1/2| 13 | | sept. 11. | 7 | 23 | 5 9 | 10 6 | 36 | 10-3/4| 12 | | april 30. | | | 5 9-1/8| 10 11 | 38-1/2| 11 | 13 | | sept. 11. | 8 | 24 | 5 8-3/4| 10 8 | 35 | 10-3/4| 12-3/4| | april 30. | | | 5 9-1/4| 11 6 | 40 | 11-3/4| 14 | | sept. 11. | 9 | 26 | 5 6-1/4| 9 5 | 33 | 10 | 11-1/2| | april 30. | | | 5 6-7/8| 9 11-1/2| 36 | 10-1/4| 12-3/4| | sept. 11. | 10 | 26-3/4| 5 11-3/8| 12 6 | 41 | 11-1/2| 13 | | april 30. | | | 5 11-3/4| 13 1 | 42 | 11-1/2| 14 | | sept. 11. | 11 | 28 | 5 7-3/4| 10 10 | 37 | 10-1/2| 12-1/2| | april 30. | | | 5 8-1/4| 11 9 | 40 | 11-3/4| 13-3/4| | sept. 11. | 12 | 28 | 5 10-7/8| 10 9 | 37 | 10-1/2| 13 | | april 30. | | | 5 11 | 11 11 | 40 | 11-3/4| 14 | +-----------+-----+-------+---------+----------+-------+-------+-------+ +-----------+-----+-------------------------------------+ | | | increase. | | | +-----+-------+-------+-------+-------+ | date. | no. | g. | h. | i. | j. | k. | +-----------+-----+-----+-------+-------+-------+-------+ | | | in. | lbs. | in. | in. | in. | | sept. 11. | 1 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 3/8 | 13 | 4-1/2 | 1 | 1-3/4 | | sept. 11. | 2 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/4 | 10 | 3-3/4 | 1 | 1-1/4 | | sept. 11. | 3 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 3/4 | 9 | 3-1/4 | 1 | 1-1/4 | | sept. 11. | 4 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/2 | 9 | 1-1/2 | 1-1/4 | 1 | | sept. 11. | 5 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/4 | 10 | 1 | 1/2 | 1 | | sept. 11. | 6 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/8 | 9 | 2 | 1/2 | 1 | | sept. 11. | 7 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/8 | 5 | 2-1/2 | 1/4 | 1 | | sept. 11. | 8 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/2 | 12 | 5 | 1 | 1-1/4 | | sept. 11. | 9 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 5/8 | 6-1/2 | 3 | 1/4 | 1-1/4 | | sept. 11. | 10 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 3/8 | 9 | 1 | " | 1 | | sept. 11. | 11 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/2 | 13 | 3 | 1-1/4 | 1-1/4 | | sept. 11. | 12 | | | | | | | april 30. | | 1/8 | 16 | 3 | 1-1/4 | 1 | +-----------+-----+-----+-------+-------+-------+-------+ key: a. age. b. height. c. weight. d. chest. e. forearm. f. upper arm. g. height. h. weight. i. chest. j. forearm. k. upper arm. the men composing this detachment had been irregularly selected, the youngest being 19, the eldest 28, the average age 24; and, after a period of _eight months'_ training, the increase in the measurements of the men were- +-------------------+---------+--------+----------+------------+ | | weight. | chest. | forearm. | upper arm. | | +---------+--------+----------+------------+ | | lbs. | in. | in. | in. | | the smallest gain | 5 | 1 | 1/4 | 1 | | the largest gain | 16 | 5 | 1-1/4 | 1-3/4 | | the average gain | 10 | 2-7/8 | 3/4 | 1-3/4 | +-------------------+---------+--------+----------+------------+ appendix vii. _taken from maclaren's "physical education." showing the result of one year's continuous practice._ the following table shows in another form the results of the system; not by brief courses or periods of voluntary attendance, but by a year's steady practice from birthday to birthday, with two articled pupils, the younger being 16, the elder 20: +-----+--------------+------------------------------------------+ | | | measurements, etc. | | | +----+-------+--------+------+------+------+ |case.| date. | a | b | c | d | e | f | +-----+--------------+----+-------+--------+------+------+------+ | | |yrs.|ft. in.|st. lbs.|in. |in. |in. | |a. |1861, oct. 17.| 16 |5 2-3/4| 7 10 |31 | 8 | 9-1/4| | |1862, apr. 17.| " |5 4 | 8 12 |34-1/2| 10 |11-1/4| | | " oct. 17.| 17 |5 4-3/4| 9 3 |36 | 10 |11-1/4| | | | | | | subsequent | | | | | | | measurement. | | |1863, mar. 23.| 18 |5 6-3/8|10 10 |37-1/2|11-1/4|13 | | | | | | | | | |b. |1862, feb. 24.| 20 |5 8-1/2|10 13 |34 |11-1/4|11-3/4| | | " aug. 24.| " |5 8-7/8|11 4 |38-1/2|12 |12-3/4| | |1862, feb. 24.| 21 | " |11 7-1/2|40 |12-1/2|13-1/4| +-----+--------------+----+-------+--------+------+------+------+ +-----+--------------+------------------------------------+ | | | increase. | | | +-----+-------+-----+------+---------+ |case.| date. | g | h | i | j | k | +-----+--------------+-----+-------+-----+------+---------+ | | | in. |lbs. |in. | in. |in. | |a. |1861, oct. 17.| | | | | | | |1862, apr. 17.|1-1/4| 16 |3-1/2| 2 | 2 | | | " oct. 17.| 3/4| 5 |1-1/2| " | " | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |1863, mar. 23.|1-5/8| 21 |1-1/2| 1-1/4| 1-3/4 | | | | | | | | | |b. |1862, feb. 24.| | | | | | | | " aug. 24.| 3/8| 5 |4-1/2| 3/4| 1 | | |1862, feb. 24.| " | 3-1/2|1-1/2| 1/2| 1/2 | +-----+--------------+-----+-------+-----+------+---------+ key: a: age. b: height. c: weight. d: chest. e: forearm. f: upper arm. g: height. h: weight. i: chest. j: forearm. k: upper arm. thus in the year's work the increase was- +-----------------+-------+-------+-------+---------+---------+ | |height.|weight.| chest.| forearm.| upper | | | | | | | arm. | +-----------------+-------+-------+-------+---------+---------+ | | in. | lbs. | in. | in. | in. | |with the younger | 2 | 21 | 5 | 2 | 2 | |with the elder | 3/8 | 8-1/2 | 6 | 1-1/4 | 1-1/2 | +-----------------+-------+-------+-------+---------+---------+ conclusion. in the first eleven chapters of this little book attempt has been made to call attention both to defects and lacks, resulting largely from not taking rational daily exercise, and to what such exercise has accomplished wherever it has been thoroughly tried. in the last two chapters have been suggested not a long and difficult system of gymnastic exercises needing a fully equipped gymnasium, a trained instructor, and years of work to master, but rather a few plain and simple exercises for any given part or for the whole body, and hints as to how to distribute the little time to be given to them daily. the teacher, the parent--the child even, without the aid of either--the young man or woman, the middle-aged and the old, will all find variety enough of work, which, while free from risk, will still prove sufficiently vigorous to insure to each a good allowance of daily exercise. all else that is needed is a good degree of the steadiness and perseverance which are generally inseparable from everything worth accomplishing. the end. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. illustrations have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest paragraph break. the word up-hill and uphill has been retained in both versions. other than the corrections listed below, printer's inconsistencies in spelling and punctuation have been retained: changed "spent mainly indoors?" into "spent mainly in-doors?" page 39 changed "his work on "sleep," as to" into "his work on "sleep", as to" page 44 changed "them "photographed, stripped to the waist, both" into "them "photographed, stripped to the waist", both" page 144 changed "the 'longshore-man--all at" into "the 'longshoreman--all at" page 180 changed "bar a a, the operator simply" into "bar a a', the operator simply" page 216 changed "meets the breast-bone, until" into "meets the breastbone, until" page 244 changed "out at arms-length, say" into "out at arm's-length, say" page 249 changed "it to the floor. and so" into "it to the floor and so" page 258 changed "and fore-arm work, catch" into "and forearm work, catch" page 274 