A man who has nothing special to worry him, and who if any difficult position arose would face it without flinching, will brood over his affairs during the hours of a sleepless night until he has created troubles enough to last him for the rest of his life. His business may be running like clockwork, but before morning he will have convinced himself that he is on the road to the workhouse. A good night’s rest, a brisk walk, even a cup of tea will work wonders in a careworn man or woman, who has almost come to the conclusion that life was not worth living.
One of the most prominent symptoms of jaundice is the depression which accompanies that malady. There is a solid substratum of truth in the old saying, “Looking at the world through jaundiced eyes.”
The most trying part of nursing sick people is the cantankerousness which even the best-tempered persons tend to develop when they are ill or in pain. The most considerate of patients are apt to become positively unreasonable at such times. Yet because of their sufferings they need all the sympathy and patience that can be bestowed upon them. And as a rule, so long as they are really ill and laid aside, they get it. What the world gets sick of is the croaker, who never ceases talking about his ailments. People may sympathise with him for a time, but before long they get tired of hearing about his complaints. It is only human nature to prefer listening to skylarks rather than to frogs.
Health and work.
Perhaps the most serious effect of ill-health is the loss of confidence which it entails. Many a man of frail physique and little stamina has been left behind by others not nearly so richly endowed with skill or intellectual ability. He has the accomplishments, but not the power to use them. He is so afraid of making mistakes, that the psychological moment has gone past before he has made up his mind, and time after time he fails to take the tide at the flood.
Trace back the history of characters such as this, and you will find that in almost all cases they have been weakly boys, who on account of their lack of vigour and health were always afraid to take the plunge. They might learn to swim, but they could not learn to dive.
A rising young Member of Parliament was once asked what quality was most indispensable for success in the House of Commons? Some expected him to say the art of speaking, others the faculty of rapid thinking, others again firmness of convictions. All were surprised when he replied, “Good bodily health. That,” he said, “was more important than anything else.”
When you come to analyse that statement, it is found to imply more than the strength to endure the enervating atmosphere of the House or the tedium of long sittings. It means that if a man is well and strong he is able to seize every opportunity of speaking, or otherwise showing his capabilities and making use of them. Good health is not merely a valuable asset in itself, it unlocks the door of all the other faculties.
Most of us are not going into Parliament, but most of us have to make our living. And no matter in what way we have to do it, whether by artisanship, business or professional career, vigour and robustness are essential to success.
An employer when about to engage a hand will most certainly give the preference to a candidate who looks strong and seems in good spirits. And this for more than mere consideration as to workmen’s compensation. For we have all learned to associate cheerfulness with ability. If a man undertakes a job as if he enjoys it, even if it is only a plumber mending a kitchen sink, we naturally conclude that he knows what he is about. If on the other hand he looks worried, we suspect that he has come across difficulties that he does not understand. If he seems to have no confidence in himself, we cease to have any confidence in him.