How to Get Strong and How to Stay So (1899)/Chapter 1

HOW TO GET STRONG


AND


HOW TO STAY SO




CHAPTER I

DO WE INHERIT SHAPELY BODIES?


In the dainty little park, at the entrance of the lower mile of Broadway, stands the finest statue in all New York. A young school-master,—a Yale man of the class of 1773,—a Connecticut Ranger,—who had cut out a provision-ship right from under the eyes of a British man-of-war; arrested and sentenced as a spy; his ankles lashed together his arms pinioned behind his back facing death yet the clear-cut, brave, superb face in no way showing it calmly telling his captors words which should be graven upon the wall of every school-room in America "I regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."[1]

In the church a little below (erected in 1766), in the middle of the north side, is the great square pew of Washington, just as he left it. And in that lower mile—the richest cañon in the world—go more men in a year than anywhere else in America. Women are rare there; but there go the men. Look at them as they pass; for such a varied human tide you will find nowhere else upon this planet—men of every tongue and name; and kin, and tribe and nation; of all ages and shades, and heights; and sizes, and weight and grades.

Not one in five is well built. Some slouch their shoulders and double in at the waist; some over-step; others cant to one side; this one has one shoulder higher than the other; and that one both too high; some have heavy bodies and light legs; others the reverse, and so on, each with his own peculiarities. An erect, well proportioned man, of springy step, easy and graceful of action, is not often seen. Any one used to athletic work and knowing what it can do for the body; must at times wonder why most men go for years, perhaps through life, so carrying themselves as not only to lack the outward grace and ease they might have; and which they now and then see in others; but so as to cramp and impede one or more of the vital organs.

Nor are these defects always the man's fault. In most cases he inherits them. The father's walk and physical characteristics appear in the son; often so plainly that the former's calling might be told from a look at the latter.

A large majority of Americans are the sons of farmers, merchants, mechanics or laborers. The work of each class soon leaves its mark. No one of the four classes has ordinarily had any training at all aimed to make him strong all over. Varied as is the farmer's work, most of it tends to make him inerect. No man stands up straight and mows. When he shovels, he bends more yet and every ounce of spade or load pulls him over; till, after much of this sort of work, it is not easy to stand upright. Ploughing is better for the upper body; but it does not last long. While it keeps one walking over uneven ground, it soon brings on an awkward, clumsy gait, raising the foot too high. Chopping is good for the upper man but does little for his legs. In hand-raking and hoeing you may remain erect; but in pitching and building the load; in nearly every sort of lifting; and especially in the heavier sorts, as in handling heavy stone or timber, your back is always bent over. It is so much easier to slouch over when on horse-rake, mower, or harvester, that most persons do it. Moreover, the labor-saving machine, for everything done on a farm, saves labor. But it also saves the muscles that did the labor and saved muscles get weak.

No work on a farm makes one quick of foot. All the long day, while some of the muscles work, and so are developed; the rest are untaxed, and stay weak. Few farmers are good walkers; usually hitching up if they have an errand to go, though it be to scarce a mile away; and rarely can a farmer run. He is a hearty, well-fed man; for wholesome food is plenty; his appetite is sharp; and he eats with relish and zest. One thinks that, when he eats and sleeps well, he is pretty healthy; and so he usually is; but when content with this state of things, he is making some parts of his body strong, and leaving others weak; and the warp he is giving to that body, by twice as much work for the muscles of his back as for those of the front of his chest; while it makes the former large, and even muscle-bound; cramps the latter; and hence gives less room for heart, lungs, stomach, and all the vital organs, than a well-built man would have. If one should tie his left arm; and with his right swing a smith's hammer all day; no doubt he would soon have a keen appetite, and the sweet sleep of the laboring-man. But in what shape would it leave him in a few years; or even in a few months? The work of the farmer also leaves him as one-sided. Less so; but he who looks may see it.

While farm-work makes a man hearty and well, though clumsy, it takes the spring out of him. The merchant is, physically, however, worse off. Getting to his work in boyhood; sticking to it as long as the busiest man in the store; his body often not fit nor ready for even half the strain it bears; he toils on through the boy's work, the clerk's, and the salesman's, till he is a partner; or he starts as entry-clerk; rises to be book-keeper; and then stays there. In many places he has had to stand nearly all day; till his sides and waist could bear it no longer; and he often breaks down under the strain. If his work calls him out much, he finds that to walk with his mind on the stretch, and more or less worried, does not bring him that vigor he looks for from so much exercise; and at night in place of being fresh and hearty, he is jaded and used up. When extra tension comes, and losses or reverses make him anxious and haggard, little in his day tends to draw him out of a situation he could have readily faced, and weathered too, had he only known how. To be sure, when he gets on well, he drives out in the late afternoon; and home and social recreation at night tends to freshen him; and to fit him for the next day's round; but, if he has been a strong young man, he finds that he is changed, and cannot work on as he used to do. His bodily strength and stay are gone. The reason is plain: when he was at his best, he was doing most work; and of the sort to keep him in good form. Now he does nothing to build up any strength; and he may be glad if he keeps even half of what he had. To be sure, he does not need the strength of a farmer; but, if he had it, he would find that, with very little daily exercise, he would be fit for all the demands of the day. And what a boon it would be, if, instead of having taxed and worn-out nerves; he could all the time be hale and strong; and not know that he had any nerves?

Who does not know men whose faces show overwork; who get thin, and stay so; who look tired, and are so; who drag along through their duties—for they are made of the stuff which does the duty as it comes up, be it hard or easy? The noon-meal is rushed through when the brain is at white-heat. More is eaten, both then and at night, than will digest; and while the drive before or after dinner helps; it is not enough to make digestion sure. Then comes broken sleep. The man awakes not rested, rebuilt and strong; and ready for the new day.

With many men of this kind—and all city men know they are many—is it strange that they have jaded nerves; and that physicians who know this field often have all that they can do? One of the most noted of them, Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, of Philadelphia, in his valuable little book, Wear and Tear; or, Hints for the Overworked, page 46, says:

"All classes of men who use the brain severely, and who have also—and this is important—seasons of excessive anxiety and grave responsibility, are subject to the same form of disease; and this is why, I presume, that I, as well as others who are accustomed to encounter nervous disorders, have met with numerous instances of nervous exhaustion among merchants and manufacturers.

"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."

And while the hard-worked business men run into this danger, those who work less do little or nothing to get vigor of body, energy, and health. So they go through life, of far less use than they might have been; and their children pay for it. A boy cannot get from his father more stamina than the latter has, however favored the mother may have been; so, if he has no work which builds him up; his father's defects will likely show in him.

Nor do most mechanics fare much better. Take the heavier kinds of skilled labor. The blacksmith rarely uses one of his hands as much as the other, especially in heavy work; and often has poor legs. Indeed, if he has good legs, he does not get them from his calling. The stone-mason too is one-handed—one hand merely guides a light tool; the other swings a heavy maul. Nearly all machinists are right-handed. And so on, through the long list of the trades where muscles have much to do, the work goes only to parts of the body; the right arm gets the lion's share; the left not much; the back more than the chest—or, rather, than the front of the chest—and the legs have it easy. Puddlers and boiler-makers; plumbers and carpenters; coopers and smiths; shipwrights, carriage-makers, tinners; all who are at trades which call for strong action, not only work one side more than the other; but many of their tools are made right-handed, so that they could not well use them with the left hand if they tried to. As to those whose work is fine; saddlers and shoemakers; mill-hands and compositors; wood-turners, tailors, jewellers, and engravers; and nearly all the lighter craftsmen, learn their trade with one hand; and would not trust any of its finer work to the other. In short, take the mechanic where you will, his right arm and side are larger and stronger than his left; quite as often his work does not give him strong legs; and dwarfs his height and weight.

Nor is this a new thing. A century ago, Salzman, school-master at Schnepfenthal, Germany, said: "Our mechanics are feeble, with spindle shanks because they do not use their legs; with slender hands and arms because used only in work fit for ladies; with narrow pinched chests, bent backs, and poked necks, because they sit too much. The same is true of the learned—they lack symmetry from want of movement."

Only a few years ago Dr. Charles Roberts, of London, after long and painstaking investigation, found, out of seventy-eight hundred boys and men between ten and thirty years old, who were children of artisans; and out of seventy-seven hundred who were children of the most favored class in England—boys at the great schools, military and naval cadets, university and medical students;—that the sons of the mechanics, instead of being as large as the other boys and young men, actually averaged all of three and a half inches shorter! And as to weight, that, "at the age of twenty, well-to-do English youths have a mean weight of eighteen pounds greater than that of the handicraftsmen of the same age living in large towns"—a pretty striking comment on the fact that using only a few muscles will make neither large nor strong men; and finally that "the sons of professional men, living in the country, exceed town-boys of the same class by about an inch, as regards height, at all ages between ten and twenty; and as regards weight, by an amount varying from one to seven pounds.

In The United States of America, Vol. II., p. 466, Dr. Sargent, Physical Director of Harvard University, says:

"The difference in the physical status of the best Scotch agricultural population and the manufacturing population of the cities of Sheffield and Bristol in England is an average of five inches in height; and thirty-one pounds in weight in favor of the farmers."

Clearer proof of the effect of one's daily labor in these fields upon his size could hardly be asked; and as to farmers, they use some muscles much; enough to make sure of a good appetite and vigor; they are often hearty; but it leaves them unequally developed. They lack the symmetry, ease, and erectness which they might all along have had, had they but used the means for even a few minutes a day. And this work of one part of the body at the expense of the other makes many workmen prone to disease.[2] Were there uniform development; and that daily vigorous exercise which would build the idle parts of the man's body; it would add years to his life and usefulness.

But how is it with the sturdy laborer? He cannot have the same defects. His work must call into play every muscle of his body.

Well, watch him and see. Try the coal-heaver. His is heavy, hard work; and must make him exert himself all over. But does it? While it keeps his knees bent, his back is all the while over his task. The tons of coal he lifts daily with his shovel leave his back bent, when his work for the time is done. A year at such labor gives his back a curve that lasts. While his back gets broad and strong, the front of his chest has less to do; so he is soon round-shouldered. As he does not hold his chest out; nor his neck and head erect; he cramps his lung-room; as well, indeed, as his whole vital room. Scarce any man so soon grows muscle-bound; for few backs do so much hard work. Let him stand erect, and try and slap the backs of his hands together behind his shoulders; now he will find what muscle-bound means. It will be odd if he can get his hands within a foot of each other.

The navvy is no better. The gardener's helper stoops much. So do track-hands; stone-breakers; truckmen; porters; longshoremen; and all the rest. Day-laborers, whose tools are spade, pick, and bar, take poor care of their skin; are exposed to dust and dirt; are coarsely shod; and are apt to have bad feet. As they eat and sleep well; they give their bodies no thought; and so often, like their teeth, they decay before their time; and cut down their usefulness and their days.

Here, then, we see that most of our men are born of fathers but partly developed, and of inerect carriage.

And how is it with their mothers? They come from the same classes; have many characteristics of their fathers—size, color, temperament, and so on; are one-handed; and are stronger on one side than on the other. In the poorer classes their life is one of work, often of overwork and drudgery; and in half-lighted, ill-ventilated apartments. Among those better off, they do not work enough; and though of vigorous parents, are not themselves strong.

Thoroughly healthy, hearty women are not common among us. Physicians know this. American women are not good walkers. And horse-car and trolley; cable and elevated roads help to keep them so. They are astonished when they hear of some lady who walks from five to ten miles a day; and thinks nothing of it. One such effort would be too much for many, indeed for most of our women; while nearly all of them would not get over its effects for days. Yet many English and Canadian ladies exercise that much daily from choice; find the strength, and health and zest; and the general feeling of efficiency it brings; and would not give it up. No regular exercise is common among most of our women which makes them use both their hands alike; and is yet vigorous enough to add to the size and strength of their shoulders, chests, and arms. House-work brings the hands a good deal to do; even though the washing and ironing, bread-making and sweeping are left to hired help. The care of children adds more. But too often both the house-work and the looking after the children are sources of exertion. Were the woman strong and full of vigor, she would turn each off lightly; and would still be fresh and hearty at the end of the day.

Both the father, and the mother, seem to look at it in this way: now that the day's work is done, no matter whether it leaves as strong or weak; let us be content with things as they are. If it keeps us one-handed, so be it. If it stoops the back over, so be it. If it does little or nothing for the lower limbs; or cramps the chest; or never half fills the lungs; or aids digestion not a whit; so be it. If it keeps some thin and tired-looking; and lets others get too fleshy; it never occurs to most of them that a little knowledge and effort of the right sort would work wonders; and in a way not only valuable but attractive.

Most of us get, then, from our parents a one-sided and partial development; and are contented with it. Unless we ourselves correct our condition; unless we single out the weak spots; mark out the work and the amount of it; and then do that work; we shall not remedy the evil. More than this, if we do not cure these defects, we will go through life with small physical resources; with their disorders and ailments; and will cruelly entail upon our children defects and tendencies which might have readily been spared them; and for which they can fairly blame us. Yet the remedy is within our reach; and so plain is this, that before long, if the interest now well aroused in this direction becomes general, those after us will know far better than we do that the body can be educated, as well as the mind or the moral nature; that, instead of interfering with these; the body, when properly trained, will aid them; and, that from any stand-point, such training will pay; and handsomely at that. They will wonder how we overlooked what Plato taught more than two thousand years ago; that he who is educated in mind and in moral nature only; and not in body also,—is a cripple.


  1. Nathan Hale "was a feeble child, and gave little promise of surviving his infancy; but as he grew up, he became fond of out-door sports, and was famous for his athletic feats." Dr. Eneas Munson, of New Haven, says of him when he was graduated at Yale: "He was almost six feet in height, perfectly proportioned, and in figure and deportment he was the most manly man I have ever met. His chest was broad; his muscles were firm; his face wore a most benign expression; his complexion was roseate; his eyes were light blue and beamed with intelligence; his hair was soft and light brown in color; and his speech was rather low, sweet and musical. His personal beauty and grace of manner were most charming. Why, all the girls in New Haven fell in love with him; and wept tears of real sorrow when they heard of his sad fate."—Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography.
  2. The head of one of the largest shoe-stores in America says that many shoemakers die of consumption.