e common case of the broken-down school teacher is more unfortunate.
This tragedy and others like it are more often, I believe, due to unwise
choice of profession in the first place. The women's colleges are
turning out hundreds of young women every year who naturally consider
teaching as the field most appropriate and available. Probably only a
very small proportion of these girls are strong enough physically or
nervously to meet the growing demands of the schools. They may do well
for a time, some of them unusually well, for it is the sensitive,
high-strung organism that is appreciative and effective. After a while
the worry and fret of the requirements and the constant nag of the
schoolroom have their effect upon those who are foredoomed to failure in
that particular field. The plight of such young women is particularly
hard, for they are usually dependent upon their work.

It is, after all, not so much the things we do as the way we do them,
and what we think about them, that accomplishes nervous harm. Strangely
enough, the sense of effort and the feeling of our own inadequacy damage
the nervous system quite as much as the actual physical effort. The
attempt to catch up with life and with affairs that go on too fast for
us is a frequent and harmful deflection from the rules of the game. Few
of us avoid it. Life comes at us and goes by very fast. Tasks multiply
and we are inadequate, responsibilities increase before we are ready.
They bring fatigue and confusion. We cannot shirk and be true. Having
done all you reasonably can, stop, whatever may be the consequences.
That is a rule I would enforce if I could. To do more is to drag and
fail, so defeating the end of your efforts. If it turns out that you are
not fit for the job you have undertaken, give it up and find another, or
modify that one until it comes within your capacity. It takes courage to
do this--more courage sometimes than is needed to make us stick to the
thing we are doing. Rarely, however, will it be necessary for us to give
up if we will undertake and consider for the day only such part of our
task as we are able to perform. The trouble is that we look at our work
or our responsibility all in one piece, and it crushes us. If we cannot
arrange our lives so that we may meet their obligations a little at a
time, then we must admit failure and try again, on what may seem a
lower plane. That is what I consider the brave thing to do. I would
honor the factor