"Let me conclude by entreating your attention to a revision of the existing plans of education in what relates to the preservation of health. Too much of the time of the better educated part of young persons is, in my humble opinion, devoted to literary pursuits and sedentary occupations, and too little to the acquisition of the corporeal powers indispensable to make the former practically useful. If the present system does not undergo some change, I much apprehend we shall see a degenerate and sinking race, such as came to exist among the higher classes in France before the Revolution, and such as now deforms a large part of the noblest families in Spain;[5] but if the spirit of improvement, so happily awakened, continues—as I trust it will—to animate those concerned in the formation of the young members of society, we shall soon be able, I doubt not, to exhibit an active, beautiful, and wise generation, of which the age may be proud."
CHAPTER III.
PHYSICAL EDUCATION. THE LAWS OF HEALTH.
If man is ever to be elevated to the highest and happiest condition which his nature will permit, it must be, in no small degree, by the improvement—I might say, the redemption—of his physical powers. But knowledge on any subject must precede improvement.—Alcott.
Physical and moral health are as nearly related as the body and the soul.—Hufeland's Art of Prolonging Life.
If the reader is persuaded that the views presented in the last chapter on the importance of physical education are truthful—and they are concurred in by physiologists generally—he will naturally desire to become acquainted with the laws of health, that, by yielding obedience to them, he may improve his physical condition, and most successfully promote his intellectual and moral well-being. I might, then, here refer to some of the many excellent treatises on this subject; but I shall probably better accomplish the object for which this work has been undertaken by presenting, within as narrow limits as practicable, a summary of these laws.
In every department of nature, waste is invariably the result of action. In mechanics, we seek to reduce the waste consequent upon action to the lowest possible degree; but to prevent it entirely is beyond the power of man. Every breath of wind that passes over the surface of the earth, modifies the bodies with which it comes in contact. The great toe of the bronze statue of Saint Peter at Rome has been reduced, it is said, to less than half its original size by the successive kisses of the faithful.
In dead or inanimate matter, the destructive influence of action is constantly forced upon our attention by every thing passing around us, and so much human ingenuity is exercised to counteract its effects that no reflecting person will dispute the universality of its operation. But when we observe shrubs and trees waving in the wind, and animals undergoing violent exertion, year after year, and continuing to increase in size, we may be inclined, on a superficial view, to regard living bodies as constituting an exception to this rule. On more careful examination, however, it will appear that waste goes on in living bodies not only without intermission, but with a rapidity immeasurably beyond that which occurs in inanimate objects.
In the vegetable world, for instance, every leaf of a tree is incessantly pouring out some of its fluids, and every flower forming its own fruit and seed, speedily to be separated from, and lost to its parent stem; thus causing in a few months an extent of waste many hundred times greater than what occurs in the same lapse of time after the tree is cut down, and all its living operations are at a close.