Vesper Talks to Girls

by Laura A. Knott

Meditation without action makes dreamers. Constant activity without reflection means a loss of the intellectual grasp of things. Jesus, after a day of the most active ministry, usually sought the loneliness of the mountains and there found strength for the work of the following day. So, on one day in seven, our busy, hurrying tasks cease, and we have a day for rest and worship. Let us do all we can to guard Sunday against the dangers that threaten it and that would make it exactly like all other days. To say nothing of its religious uses, the rhythm of life demands that one day in the week be given to rest and to thoughts and interests far removed from those of our busy work-days. Some one has said that Sunday should be joyous (unlike the Sunday of the Puritans), different, that is, different from the other days of the week, and uplifting.

Not until we have passed out of early youth are we likely to comprehend the fact that life itself has tidal times. A mood of exaltation is likely to be followed by one of depression. Life waxes and wanes; it does not stand still. We learn to take ourselves at our best and to be patient with ourselves at our worst. When faith and courage are low, we come to know that soon they will return in all their strength. Doubt of self and one’s powers will be followed by self-confidence. Thus we learn never to make important decisions or to begin new and weighty enterprises at ebb tide. There is, in another sense from that which Shakespeare meant, “a tide in the affairs of men” which should be seized.

Work and play are both essential in the healthy life. We know the result of “all work and no play.” Even good, wholesome, congenial work makes us dull if it is never relieved and brightened by recreation. Many a faithful worker has broken down under the strain of unremitting toil, who might have doubled or trebled his years of usefulness if a little play could have been mingled with the work.

To one who plays all the time, that is, who has no work in life, play soon becomes stale and wearisome. After the period of childhood is passed, when play should be the main business of life, it seems to be an inexorable law of nature that those who will not work shall not play. Have you ever visited any of the great winter resorts of the South? If so you have noticed that they are filled largely with people who have no pursuit in life except that of having a good time. While the world’s work is being done by others, they lead a butterfly existence. What wonder that they wear a discontented look! Everywhere they seek for happiness and wonder why they fail to find the elusive creature. It would not be difficult to tell them. Those who refuse to do the world’s work are denied a share in its play, and thus does Nature assert the supremacy of her laws.

No people in the world have so good a time when they play as those who work hard—if they also know how to play well. Self-denial, waiting, and anticipation give a zest to pleasure that can come in no other way. In one of Charles Lamb’s essays he speaks of the keen delight which he and his sister took, during the days when toil was unceasing and income small, on the rare occasions when they could afford to go to the theater. The poorest seats amply satisfied their desires, and it seemed to them that no one in the house was so happy as they. “Could those good old one-shilling gallery days return, could you and I be once more struggling up those inconvenient staircases, pushed about and squeezed and elbowed by the poorest rabble of poor gallery scramblers, I would be willing to bury more wealth than Crœsus had to purchase it.”

The woman who gives herself up wholly to a society life never finds happiness in that life; but let her make something really worth while her main object, whether it be bringing up a family, writing books, or working in a settlement, and her social pleasures will then give her relaxation and delight. It is the student who works hard and who feels the glow of accomplishment who can put most zest into a game on the athletic field.

Our country probably has more workers than any other who do not take enough time to play. It is so easy for our earnest, energetic people to fall into this habit. Work is sweet and we think we cannot have too much of it. Sometimes, too, we get an exaggerated idea of our own importance. We think that if we stop work for a moment all the wheels of progress will stand still. Never did any people feel the intensity of life as we Americans of this generation do. We have heard the gospel of efficiency preached on every hand, but we have not often been told how to maintain a high level of efficiency for a long period. Those who are efficient, and at the same time willing, invariably have more put upon them than they can do. In addition to legitimate work, there is auxiliary work of various kinds. Committee meetings and other services for the general good consume for many of us a great deal of time. So we keep chasing duties and go to bed every night plagued by the host that we have left undone.

Yet, shall we regret that we live in an age of opportunity? If we are counted among the efficient, who are given a large share of work to do, shall we be sorry? On the contrary, let us remember that more to be pitied than any one else is the person who, because he has no work in life, is obliged to hunt for occupation.

The real trouble is that most of us do not know the secret of economizing our time and strength. Let us ask what the rhythm of life demands of us. No one is capable of incessant toil without serious damage. Our highest good demands that there shall be constant alternation of labor and rest, or work and play. Some forms of work are play because they involve different powers of mind and body from our regular work. Many a scholar has studied until his eyes were dimmed and his mind dulled only to find that he had himself defeated his own purpose. Many a business man has given himself no rest until increasing inefficiency compelled it. It is not the teacher who makes a practice of working late into the night, with never a moment for play, who makes the inspiring classroom instructor.

Some one has given this recipe for a happy life: “Work, play, study, laugh; have a job and a hobby.” Play should be regarded as a legitimate part of the business of life. Duty has been only half performed when happy recreation has been left out.