n8 



RECREATION. 



what our judgment tells us is necessary, 

 we should then devote ourselves to recrea : 

 tion ; and that, by the way, is another word 

 the exact significance of which we shall 

 do well to remember. "Recreation," "re- 

 creation" means not merely pleasure, but, 

 to quote Webster exactly, "the refreshment 

 of the strength and spirits after toil." 

 Surely indolence and recreation are not 

 only innocent, but also salutary. 



How much work a man should do is a 

 question each must decide for himself, but 

 I have heard of a very wise division of it 

 into 3 classes : "That which has to be 

 done, that which will do itself, and that 

 which needs not to be done." If we can 

 eliminate the last 2 divisions we shall 

 not only have more time and energy to de- 

 vote to work that is absolutely essential, 

 but we shall also discover a broader mar- 

 gin of leisure which can be devoted to the 

 indulgence of our tastes, the cultivation of 

 our minds and the rejuvenation of our 

 nerves and sinews. Indeed, there is much 

 that needs not to be done. It may almost 

 be said that a man should do nothing he 

 does not like to do, because he will cer- 

 tainly be most apt to succeed in that line 

 of work for which he has special qualifi- 

 cations. Blessed is the man who has found 

 his work, and loves it, who makes his busi- 

 ness a pastime and not a labor, who is con- 

 tent to know one thing well and to refrain 

 from dabbling in the thousand things for 

 which others are better fitted than he. That 

 was a wise remark of Sidney Smith's, that 

 one should have the courage to be ignorant 

 of a great number of things in order to 

 avoid the calamity of being ignorant of 

 everything. Why should one who hates 

 mathematics waste his time in attempting 

 to become proficient in it? Why should 

 one who loves history and dislikes me- 

 chanics deny himself the former to read 

 up on electricity. It is all foolishness and 

 vexation of spirit. The eccentric but always 

 instructive and entertaining Joseph Cook 

 had it nearer right : "You may have," said 

 he, "a little island of your own, with a 

 grove and a spring in it sweet and good, 

 while the waste howling ocean of the 

 world's useless information rolls around 

 you." Is not here at least a partial solu- 

 tion of the problem of finding leisure and 

 indolence? 



"When you have found a day to be idle, 

 be idle for a day," says the old Chinese 

 proverb, and as long as men can find time 

 to be ill from overwork, or, what is 

 equally useless, from work that would be 

 better left undone, it is probable that they 

 could find a little time for the recreation 

 they long for and require. A large pro- 

 portion of mankind is so busily engaged 

 in building foundations that it never finds 

 time to rear the superstructure. Such men 

 are forever busy, but never really accom- 



plishing their ends, deferring: to some in- 

 definite period the time when they shall 

 actually begin to enjoy existence. They 

 have been well likened to certain indus- 

 trious but foolish cattle that did not know 

 when to swallow their cuds, and their lives, 

 therefore, yielded no milk. 



There are certain artificial and superficial 

 conditions from which few of us have the 

 courage to break away, and which drive 

 us often against our better judgment into 

 shouldering useless burdens. "Things are 

 in the saddle and riding mankind," said 

 the keen philosopher of Concord. We are 

 more concerned about what people say of 

 us than about what we think of ourselves. 

 The tremendous importance we attach to 

 the opinions of the third person plural is 

 a thing to be marveled at ! They say what 

 we shall wear and we wear it, whether it be 

 a long skirt, a silk hat or any other absurd 

 and uncomfortable abomination. They 

 say where we shall go, and forthwith we 

 pack our trunks and meekly buy our tickets. 

 They say how we shall build our houses, 

 dispense our charities and worship o.ur 

 God; and the majority servilely obey their 

 behests, while the minority, who do not 

 obey them are apt to be considered eccen- 

 tric, or parsimonious or sacrilegious. 

 Pride and vanity are the spurs that prick 

 us on. We are afraid of being outstripped 

 and rush headlong into the rabble, more 

 anxious to lead the procession than to see 

 what the world is like through which the 

 procession is moving. "The race of life 

 has become intense," said Carlyle; "the 

 runners are treading on one another's 

 heels. Woe to him that stops to tie his 

 shoestrings." But we never reach the goal 

 because we are constantly placing it far- 

 ther away. Having attained to the station 

 and the success we once aimed to win, we 

 find them unsatisfying because others have 

 reached there ahead of us. So we set up 

 new limits for ourselves and start out for 

 them at breakneck speed, vainly imagining 

 that one more desperate struggle will land 

 us in the place of our desires. We are, in 

 truth, afflicted with what wise old Macro- 

 bius described as "an irksome, agonizing 

 care, a superstitious industry about un- 

 profitable things, an itching humor to see 

 what is not to be seen, and to be doing 

 what signifies nothing when it is done." 

 And so rob ourselves of leisure and the 

 joys of indolence, getting in return there- 

 for — what ? 



It has been said that most men lead lives 

 of quiet desperation, and if we grant this 

 to be true it is because we see success — in 

 the common acceptation of the word — 

 made more elusive and difficult each year. 

 I challenge the interpretation of that word 

 "success," because it has come to be meas- 

 ured by the accumulation of wealth and 

 the measure is a false one. A man's true 



