Finally, it is probably good for everybody to rest, if not completely, at any rate very largely, for a day or two before the event; for if a man is not fit then, it is highly improbable that a day or two more of severe training and practice will make him fit. On the other hand, rest—provided he does not fret—will largely increase his fund of nervous force, and his muscles already in condition will lose not one atom of their briskness by so short a repose. Again, the danger of over-training is far greater than that of under-training, and the risk of staleness or tiredness on the day of your match is far more likely, and, if it occurs, far more prejudicial to your chances, than the risk of not being quite at concert pitch. But if a man frets, he loses half the benefit that the rest would give him, and if he finds he inevitably does so, it is probably better that he should soothe his jangled nerves by employment. Yet there is a great, if commonly neglected, preventive against fretting, and that is the reasonable employment of the brain during the period of training. Then, when the rest before the event comes, it is easy to find distraction from the very natural nervousness, in mental pursuits, whereas if, as often happens, the period of training has been one of inaction for the brain, except in so far as the training itself was concerned, it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to busy the mind with other and intellectual occupations. In fact, if only for the sake of the tranquil, not fretful, rest of the day or two before the event, it is well worth while, throughout the period of training, to have some definite and interesting piece of mental work every day. It should not, of course, be very exciting or very fatiguing, nor should the hours of work be so long that together with the physical preparation they produce fatigue; but nothing is a greater mistake than to drop brain-work altogether, not only, as we have said, for the sake of the rest before the event, which is practicably impossible unless the mind is otherwise occupied, but for the sake of the general flatness and utter want of interest in things after the day is passed. For the mind gets flabby and in ill condition if not used, just as the body does, while its reasonable use even during the most severe physical training cannot, we believe, have any ill effect at all on the body, for it is not in the nature of things that it should have; while if it has been unused for weeks, it is practically impossible to rest, as is strongly recommended, for a few days before the event, without fretting.
There is a sentence in the Latin grammar: “Too much confidence is wont to be a calamity.” This is no doubt true, but it must be remembered that too little confidence is certain to be one; and though to inculcate a frame of mind is perhaps a useless task, yet there is, as it were, a correct attitude for winning, just as a straight bat is the correct attitude for a yorker, and it seems in the main to be this.
Never despise your adversary, but whoever he is treat him with respect. Cultivate a belief in your chances of winning, but remember that though you are not beaten till the last set has been finished, or the eighteenth hole putted into, yet neither is he. Husband your resources, unless things are positively desperate.
And so good luck to you. But if you have bad luck, remember you are a gentleman, or, if you are not, that you have an excellent opportunity for making other people think so.
CHAPTER X.
REMEDIAL.
We have already spoken of the constant need of light, in order that the body may be healthy, and have suggested some simple rules about the use of heat, either in Turkish or ordinary baths. But these natural aids to health may, as we have said, be used as directly remedial agents in case of disease, or to correct existing bodily defects. Much scientific investigation has lately been made into the healing properties of electric light, whether used merely as light, or, as some hold, to put external electricity into the body; and it has been found to cure, not only weakness of the system, acting as a tonic, but even such tubercular diseases as lupus. We should not, however, recommend anyone to dabble with electricity, still less to go through a course of treatment except under skilled medical supervision, and this treatment by electricity comes outside the scope of this book.
Massage and rubbing, however, which can often be performed by a man on himself, are, for certain complaints, among those simple and excellent remedies which can safely be practised by anyone.[17] In the case of a strained muscle, for instance, in muscular rheumatism or lumbago, or when owing to some accident a man accustomed to exercise cannot get it, massage and rubbing are invaluable. In the latter case, the massage ought to be over the whole body, and so must be performed by someone else; but half the small local injuries which cannot well be avoided, can be greatly alleviated by such means, while an attack of lumbago or muscular rheumatism, which without such treatment might incapacitate a man for a week, can often be entirely got rid of by the employment of this remedy. The skin should be made soft and pliable by hot water, and any decent oil or embrocation may be used; not so much, perhaps, because it is in itself beneficial, but because the rubbing, which is beneficial, thus becomes easier to the manipulator, and spares the skin of the patient; for it is impossible to stand more than a minute or two of dry rubbing, if the rubbing is vigorous, owing to the soreness which it produces. In the same way, though the cause of lumbago (usually, if not always, connected with the liver) cannot be removed by massage, yet massage enormously alleviates the discomfort which often amounts to really severe physical pain. And half an hour’s massage in the small of the back, a dose of uric acid solvent with every meal, and an abstention for a day from meat and alcohol may be sufficient to discharge most cases at any rate half-cured.
Another remedy we suggest—it is likely to be highly unpopular—as a cure for a very large number of disorganisations of the digestion or liver, is complete abstention from food, even for one meal only. For it is quite possible to be really bilious and yet feel reasonably hungry; but it is in such a case false to argue that hunger indicates food. In the same way a slight upset of the liver often induces great drowsiness, whereas to lie in bed sleeping inordinate hours is quite the worst thing to do. Nor is there any possibility of mistaking bilious-hunger or liverish-drowsiness for the healthy forms. It is even unnecessary to go into the point at all, for everyone knows quite well the difference between them. So if you are biliously-hungry, fast; if you are liverishly-sleepy, take exercise. It is possible, of course, that you need medicine, but try simpler remedies first.
Nervousness, that extraordinarily elusive foe to happiness, may arise from two causes, either from an overstrung condition accompanied by excitability, or from exactly the opposite cause—namely, weakness, and the need for tonic. In the first case—the two, again, are unmistakably different—it may be useful to try a less stimulating and irritating diet, and accompany it with plenty of exercise, followed by rest and muscular relaxation. In the second case, the same alteration of diet, substituting nourishing foods for the stimulating ones, and plenty of rest, with perhaps less exercise will be useful. In both cases, of course, medicine may be needful, but it seems to be almost a postulate in the question of health, to prefer, if that is sufficient, a perfectly wholesome régime without medicine, to the continuance of one that perhaps does not entirely suit you, with the addition of medicine. Medicine, no doubt, often is useful, and many of the nerve-tonics which so plentifully bedeck the pages of magazines that one would think that the Empire had an attack of nervous prostration, may be excellent medicines. But why take medicine, if as good results can be obtained without it? It is possible that you must—or at any rate think that you should—do more work than you can properly stand. If the duty is clear, and if it is also perfectly clear that you had better cheerfully give up the chance of working as well as you would like to work, unless you take a tonic, then by all means take a tonic which you know medicinally to be a sound medicine; but first see if there is not some possible means, such as alteration of diet, or, very likely, less stimulant, or a little regular exercise, of managing without that medicine. Strychnine, for instance, cannot be called an ideal food even in the smallest quantities.
Two other very common symptoms of some slight nervous derangement are restlessness and staleness. By restlessness we mean the disinclination often amounting to inability to settle down to any one thing. It is a particularly common symptom of the present day, when many people seem to be literally unable to have any fixed object of life, or to remain in the same place for more than a few days together. In acute forms this becomes a nervous disease of such seriousness that a regular rest-cure has been often prescribed—and with great success—for it: the patient goes to bed and stops there for several weeks, and is allowed neither to read, nor to talk, nor to make the smallest exertion that is avoidable. And in a less degree for ordinary restlessness the same treatment is applicable, and an increased allowance of sleep is desirable; or, if not of sleep, of deliberate rest; for the evil is due to over-excitation of the nerves without sufficient nourishment. And the nourishment of the nerves is repose.