which he is least fitted for by nature.
The divine discontent which all aspiring souls feel is a longing for growth, for a realization of possibilities. It is the call of the potencies within us to do, to be; the longing for that expansion and power which can only come from healthful, vigorous activity in pursuit of a worthy aim.
There is no mental tonic, no physical stimulus like that which comes from the consciousness of growing larger, fuller, completer each day in the pursuit of one’s chosen work.
The passion for conquest, the conquering faculty which we all have—that something within us which aspires—becomes strong and powerful just in proportion as it has legitimate exercise and encouragement, so that every feeling out and stretching of the mind, every exercise of the faculties to-day makes a larger to-morrow possible.
Chapter XVII.
Fun In The Home
What makes you Americans hurry so?” asked a distinguished foreigner, on visiting this country. “This is not living, it is merely existing.”
The American people as a rule take life too seriously. They do not have half enough fun. Europeans look on our care-worn, solemn-faced people as on pieces of machinery run at forced speed and which squeak for lack of oil.
Life has become so strenuous in this country that even Edward Everett Hale, late chaplain of the United States Senate, was allowed only one minute for prayer, excepting on extraordinary occasions.
With us the hurry habit has become almost a disease. We get so accustomed to the American pace that we can not slow down, even when we are not in a hurry. Our movements, habits, and manners give us the appearance of always being in a rush, and we hurry even when on a vacation.
Many people do not seem to know how to let themselves out unreservedly in their play. The ghost of worry or anxiety is nearly always present to mar their enjoyment, or they fear that it would not be dignified for a man to act like a boy. This keeps many men from getting the best out of their recreation. When in the country, they could derive a good lesson in healthful abandon from the young cattle or colts when they first leave the barn in the spring and are turned out to pasture. How they kick up their heels, as though they delighted in mere existence!
Notwithstanding the fact that the country has so many natural advantages of pure air, stimulating scenery, fresher and more healthful food, and freedom from the racking noises of the city, city dwellers, as a rule, do not age so rapidly and are much more cheerful than farm dwellers.
The reason for this is found in the fact that there are so many more facilities for amusement in the city than in the country. People who live in congested districts feel the need of amusement; they are hungry for fun; they live under strong pressure and they take every opportunity for easing the strenuousness of their lives. This is why humorous plays, comic operas, and vaudeville performances generally, no matter how foolish, silly, or superficial, are always well patronized. City people laugh a great deal more than country people, and everybody knows that laughter is a refresher, a rejuvenator, a success factor. They must unbend, and this fun-seeking has a great deal to do with keeping city people young and fresh after youth has passed.
What is needed is more play every day, play mixed with work. Don’t take your vocation so seriously. Do not let a spurious “culture” keep you from laughing out loud, or from giving yourself up with abandon to the fun-loving instinct.
A cheerful disposition that scorns every rebuff of fortune and laughs in the face of disaster is a divine gift. “Fate itself has to concede a great many things to the cheerful man.” To be able to laugh away trouble is greater fortune than to possess the mines of King Solomon. It is a fortune, too, that is within the reach of all who have the courage and nobility of soul to keep their faces turned to the light.
As a rule, lovers of humor, great storytellers and jokers have a wonderful power of self-refreshment and retarding old age. People who seldom laugh, people who can not appreciate a joke, age much faster.
An aged person ought to be serene and calm and balanced. All of the agitations and perturbations of youth ought to have ceased. A sweet dignity, a quiet repose, a calm expression should characterize people who are supposed to have had all that is richest and best out of the age in which they lived; but quite the contrary is true. In a restaurant, recently, I saw an old man who was so nervous that he could scarcely eat. He was constantly drumming on the table with his fingers, taking hold of things and dropping them, twitching his elbows and his knees and moving his feet. Yet he was drinking the strongest coffee in order to quiet his nerves. It was really pitiable to see an old man who ought to be the very embodiment of wisdom, of dignity, and of repose, fidgeting as though he had Saint Vitus’s dance, with no serenity, no balance, no physical poise.
In ancient Germany there was a law against joking. “It makes my men forget war,” said the king. Sad, serious faces are seen everywhere in Christendom, “lest they forget” business, dollar-chasing.
When Denys, the light-hearted soldier of fortune in Charles Reade’s “The Cloister and the Hearth,” saw a friend with the blues or discouraged, he used to say: “Courage, comrade, the devil is dead!”
This is a good motto to adopt. Always take it for granted that the devil, personifying everything that is bad, disagreeable, and injurious, is dead.
To ignorant, superstitious people the devil is very much alive. He has the whisk of his tail in all their amusements. But to people who have their eyes open, who think, the devil is dead.
Whatever your lot in life, keep joy with you. It is a great healer. Sorrow, worry, jealousy, envy, bad temper, create friction and grind away the delicate human machinery so that the brain loses its cunning.
Half the misery in the world would be avoided if people would make a business of having plenty of fun at home, instead of running everywhere else in search of it.
“Now for Rest and Fun.” “No Business Troubles Allowed Here.” These are good home-building mottoes.
When you have had a perplexing day, when things have gone wrong with you and you go home at night exhausted, discouraged, blue, instead of making your home miserable by going over your troubles and trials, just bury them; instead of dragging them home and making yourself and your family unhappy with them and spoiling the whole evening, just lock everything that is disagreeable in your office.
I know a man who casts such a gloom over his whole family, and so spoils the peace of his home by insisting upon talking over all his business troubles, that his wife and children fairly dread to see him come home, because, when they see the thunder-cloud on his face, they know that their fun for the evening will be spoiled.
Just resolve that your home shall be a place for bright pictures and pleasant memories, kindly feelings toward everybody and, as Mr. Roosevelt says, “a corking good time” generally. If you do this, you will be surprised to see how your vocation or business wrinkles will be ironed out in the morning and how the crooked things will be straightened.
Make a business of trying to establish a model home, where every member of your family will be happy, bright, and cheerful Fill it with bright, cheerful music. Physicians are employing music more and more because of its wonderful healing properties.
If there are no musicians in your family, get a graphophone, a piano-player, or some other
