120 THE COMING OF MAN 



It is difficult to estimate the value of such a day. Was it 

 five or twenty-five times as great as our average? It was our 

 day of as nearly perfect health as is possible for us. Such 

 days are few and rare. 



No physician could have told us why the next day was dull. 

 The physical change was probably slight, and may have af- 

 fected a very small part of our bodies: a Hmited slight in- 

 flammation, a very little uneasiness, a local weakness or strain, 

 a slight general lassitude or weariness. It was only a slight 

 indisposition, but it cut down the zest and value of our work 

 far below our average. Our health was still good, but not 

 perfect. 



The trained athlete is well aware of these facts. A very 

 slight breach of training would not perceptibly injure his 

 health, but it might easily cost him the race. He must be at 

 the top-notch of condition. It is obvious that a slight physical 

 betterment may double our efficiency. 



Our strength and endurance are measured largely by our 

 weakest organ or part, like the weakest Knk in a chain. If 

 our lungs furnish only fifty per cent, of the needed oxygen, 

 good muscles cannot do their full amount of work, and will 

 probably degenerate. If our feeble stomachs can digest only 

 '' educator " crackers and broth, where is the fuel for the mi- 

 croscopic neuro-muscular engines? We need a trained athletic 

 digestive system as the foundation of health and greatness. 



We must say the same of every organ. Temporary weak- 

 ness of any smallest part is immediately telegraphed to the 

 nerve-centers and depresses the tone of the whole body. This 

 universal tyranny of the weakest part is probably most severe 

 in individuals of highest culture and greatest refinement. 

 When the deacon built a shay whose weakest part was just as 

 strong as the rest, he made a very serviceable as well as durable 

 machine. All this is obvious. 



We are slowly learning the supreme importance of propor- 

 tion and symmetry in the human body. The old-fashioned 

 gymnast was a monstrosity, with overhanging shoulders, bulg- 

 ing arms and shipwrecky legs. He looked like a triangle walk- 



