om the University.

Now, one of the most important things for us to do is occasionally to
stop thinking, or at least to stop thinking along our accustomed lines.
We should give those few brain cells that are being made to work
over-time a chance to rest once in a while. We are living too fast. Our
lives are too intense. We are running our machines under high pressure,
and some of them are already showing the results altho they are almost
new. Unless there is a change, new ones will have to take their places
ere long. The rate of speed of the life of the modern American business
and professional man, the rate of speed of the life of the modern
American society woman, is something terrific. We are wearing ourselves
out before our time. Modern life is so complex, so exacting, so wearing,
that we are losing all the joy of living. We are at our own firesides so
seldom and for such short periods that we scarcely know our own little
ones. Longfellow's "Children's Hour" that came "as a pause in the day's
occupation," is almost wholly unknown in most American homes. There is
no "pause" in the day's occupation. The occupation goes right on till
after these "children" are soundly asleep in their beds and begins again
before they are awake in the morning. And all this is true even of us,
right here in this select circle, the "favored ones," many would call
us.

But I am not giving a diatribe on American life, so will not pursue the
matter farther. All that I am trying to do is simply this: to call
attention to the fact that we are living _fast_--faster than our
physical and mental make-up can long stand; that we have already reached
the danger point. And what are we going to do about it? Well, we shall
have to do many things before the problems are all solved, the
difficulties all met. As a slight relief, and to answer a question
raised a little earlier in the paper, I am suggesting the sports--those
activities that both rejuvenate the physical man and also "divert and
make mirth." Into these we can not carry our teaching and our preaching
and our making of social calls. The goods of the merchant, the notes of
the banker, the briefs of the lawyer, the annoyances of the teacher, and
the cares of the housewife, alike, would all have to be left behind. The
mind could rest while the body and the spirit are being recreated. An
hour a day, in the open air, with fears and anxieties and schemes all
cast aside, in companionship with kindre