If the man who has eight or ten hours of busy brain work in-doors daily, and who, when his duties are ended, has no heart for physical exercise, would, every hour or two, turn aside from his work, and take even two minutes’ vigorous exercise, in his office or in the adjoining hallway, he would return to his labor with brain considerably refreshed, and at the close of the day, he would enter upon his half hour’s walk with spirit and alacrity, and welcome his sleep at the end of the day.
Business Men.—Who does not know, among his business acquaintances, men whose faces show that they are continually overworked? They have no time for systematic physical exercise, but go dragging through their duties as well as their low physical condition and tired brains will permit. The noonday lunch is bolted, or is omitted entirely, for want of time.
Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, a specialist in nervous disorders, speaks of the numerous instances of nervous exhaustion among merchants and manufacturers. He says: “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.”
Few business or professional men do anything to secure and preserve health and strength, and they go through life far less efficient and useful than they might be.
Pre-eminent business success can be achieved only by turning over to subordinates the numerous details which occupy so much time, and which any trustworthy and experienced secretary or assistant might do. By this arrangement, time would be saved for necessary recreation and rest, thus keeping the physical systems of the employers and managers in the best possible condition, and securing to the mind that alertness and vigor which the sharp competition of the times demands.
Professional Men.—Looking over a list of eminent divines, it is surprising how many of them were men of rugged frames and sturdy physique. It required a man with the physical vigor of Luther to declare he would attend the Diet of Worms “though the devils there were as numerous as the tiles on the houses.” How much of the success of Spurgeon, and Beecher, and Dr. John Hall may be fairly ascribed to their splendid outfit of vital organs, and to the glowing health which each enjoyed. Nor were Phillips Brooks, and Joseph Cook, and Dwight L. Moody lacking in these physical qualities which count for so much in influencing the minds and hearts of men. These knew nothing of “blue Mondays” or “ministers’ sore throat,” and needed not to be sent abroad by their congregations, every summer or two, in order to recruit their health, and keep them up to their work.
By virtue of his profession and because of its onerous and responsible duties, no one stands more in need of robust health than the physician. Called from his bed at all hours of the night, brought in daily contact with disease, and that often of a contagious character, the largest demands are made upon his vital forces. He is expected, not only to dispense the necessary medicines, but also to carry comfort and cheer to the bedside of the sick. The very countenance of a healthy, cheerful physician acts like a medicine.
The country practitioner who rides or drives long distances, over rough roads, and who often attends to his horse himself, needs but little further exercise, and that little should be applied to the least-used muscles, in order to preserve a well-rounded development. The city physician, whose coachman relieves him of the exercise of driving and of the care of the horses, will find a half hour daily, with pulley-weights, clubs, or dumb-bells, and an occasional visit to a gymnasium conducive to his best physical condition. As a dentist should himself have the best of teeth, the doctor also should enjoy the most robust health.
And what of the legal profession? Rufus Choate inherited a strong, healthy body, but took so little care of it, that, towards the close of his life, he was accustomed to say of himself that “latterly he had worn out his constitution, and was living on the by-laws.” He died at fifty-five, while his contemporary, Daniel Webster, who appreciated the importance of keeping his body well toned-up, and who, with fishing rod in hand, found recreation among the streams of his native State, preserved his robust physique and imperial bearing to the allotted three score and ten. Lord Brougham, as a boy, was the swiftest runner in his neighborhood. His physical strength and endurance were such that upon one occasion he spoke in Parliament seven days consecutively. He kept up his activity to the end of his life, and died at the age of eighty-nine.
President Eliot, of Harvard College, who has enjoyed exceptional opportunities for observing the effects of exercise upon young men, says: “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, 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.”