<h3><SPAN name="Reform_Through_Reading" id="Reform_Through_Reading"></SPAN>Reform Through Reading</h3>
<p>Virtue, good health, efficiency and all the other subjects which are
served up in the numberless thick volumes with a purpose seldom seem
desirable when the propagandist has finished his say about them. For
instance, we began the day with a firm determination never to smoke
again—that is, not for some time—and then we ran across <i>Efficiency
Through Concentration</i>, by B. Johnston. Since then we light the new
cigarette from the dying embers of the old. The passage which enraged us
most occurs in a chapter called "Personal Habits," in which the author
writes:</p>
<p>"If you are a gentleman always ask a lady's permission before smoking,
and if you find that her statement that it is disagreeable to her is a
disappointment to you, and that your observance of her wishes causes you
real discomfort, then you may know that the time has come to give up the
habit entirely."</p>
<p>To be sure, Mr. Johnston does not specify whether "the habit" refers to
smoking or to the lady, but later it is made clear that he seriously
suggests that a smoker should change his whole mode of life to suit the
whim of "a lady" who is not otherwise identified in the book. What this
particular "lady" is to the "gentleman" we don't know, but it sounds
very much like blackmail.<SPAN name="page_205" id="page_205"></SPAN></p>
<p>Nor later were we much moved to strength of will against nicotine by the
author's advice, "If self-conquest seems difficult, brace yourself up
with the reminder that as heir of the ages you sum up in yourself all
the powers of self-restraint bequeathed by your innumerable ancestors."</p>
<p>To us that makes but slight appeal. After all, the ancestors most
celebrated for self-restraint were those that didn't have any
descendants.</p>
<p>Later we came across "Concentrate your thought on the blessings that
accompany moderation in all things." This, however, seemed to us an
excellent suggestion if followed in moderation.</p>
<p>Next we turned to a health book by Thomas R. Gaines which promised "a
sound and certain way to health, a cure for fatigue, a preventive for
disease and one of the most potent allies in the battle of life against
premature old age." The book is called <i>Vitalic Breathing</i> and the
introductory notice went on to say that the system suggested was easy to
practise and cost nothing. Only when we came to facts did the new guide
to health fail us, for then we read, "Vitalic breathing means inhaling
in sniffs and forcibly exhaling." No dramatic critic could afford to
follow such a system. He would be hurled out of every theater in town on
the suspicion that he was hissing the show.</p>
<p>Vance Thompson's advice in <i>Live and Be Young</i> is no easier. "The best
is none too good for you," he<SPAN name="page_206" id="page_206"></SPAN> writes graciously, and continues:
"Whether it is the country or the village or the city, the men and women
you want to know are the best—those who are getting the best out of
life—those who have beautiful homes and social influence—those who
play games and make an art of pleasant things—in a word, those who are
smart."</p>
<p>We read on and learned that, "Rich people are, nine times out of ten,
pleasanter, kindlier, better bred and less selfish than poor folk—they
can afford to be; and they are more enjoyable playmates and steadier
friends."</p>
<p>No, after mature deliberation we think we would rather try the sniffing
and forcibly exhaling method. We would even prefer to concentrate and
give up tobacco. Addition never was one of our strong points, and Mr.
Thompson's advice is not for us. We would have a terrible time in
finding out whether they really were rich enough to be of any use to our
arteries. Clues are simple enough. It is easy to ask nonchalantly, "How
much income tax did you pay this year?" But after obtaining that you
have to find out whether your potentially rich man is living with his
wife and whether he has any children or bad debts or Liberty bonds of
that issue which is tax exempt. Then you must calculate the first few
thousands on the basis of four per cent and on up. It couldn't be done
in your head, and we doubt whether it would be polite to<SPAN name="page_207" id="page_207"></SPAN> ask your host
for paper and pencil. The system is all well enough after you have your
rich, smart people identified, but the possibility of contracting
premature old age while still in the research period seems to us too
dangerous to meddle with.</p>
<p>After setting down all this we find that we have not been fair to Mr.
Thompson. Early in the book, on a page which we had inadvertently
skipped, an easy method is suggested for ascertaining whether your
friends are actually rich and smart. Speaking of such words as
"climbers" and "snobs" Mr. Thompson writes: "These epithets are always
ready to the hand of the slack-living, uncouth man, who is more
comfortable in bad society than he is in good society—and he loves to
throw them about. You know that man? He stands out in the commonness and
indecency of the street, as you go up to knock at the door of a smart
house, and shouts, 'Snob!'"</p>
<p>Of course, we would like it fine, but truthfulness compels us to admit
that we never met him. Whether we like it or not we will have to
continue to seek health in good works and deep breathing.</p>
<p>Still, our own house is pretty smart. It carries three mortgages and has
never dropped one yet.<SPAN name="page_208" id="page_208"></SPAN></p>
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