Willpower and Its Relation to Health and Disease

There is no doubt that, as a rule, great decision of character is usually accompanied by great constitutional firmness. Men who have been noted for great firmness of character have usually been strong and robust. As a rule it is the strong physical man who carries weight and conviction. Take, as an example, William the Conqueror, as he is pictured by Green in his history:

There is no doubt that strong character usually goes hand in hand with a strong physical constitution. Men known for their firm character have usually been strong and robust. As a rule, a physically strong man has influence and inspires conviction. Take William the Conqueror, for example, as Green describes him in his history:

"The very spirit of the sea-robbers from whom he sprang seemed embodied in his gigantic form, his enormous strength, his savage countenance, his desperate bravery. No other knight under heaven, his enemies confessed, was William's peer. No other man could bend William's bow. His mace crashed through a ring of English warriors to the foot of the standard. He rose to his greatest heights in moments when other men despaired. No other man who ever sat upon the throne of England was this man's match."

"The very spirit of his sea-robber ancestors seemed to live in his huge frame, enormous strength, fierce face, and fearless courage. Even his enemies admitted that no other knight on earth was William's equal. No other man could bend William's bow. His mace smashed through a ring of English warriors to the foot of the standard. He was at his best when other men lost hope. No other man who ever sat on the throne of England was his equal."

Or, take Webster. Sydney Smith said: "Webster is a living lie; because no man on earth can be as great as he looks." Carlyle said of him: "One would incline at sight to back him against the world." His very physique was eloquent. Men yielded their wills to his at sight.

Or take Webster. Sydney Smith said: "Webster is a living lie, because no man on earth can be as great as he looks." Carlyle said of him: "At first sight, one would be inclined to back him against the world." His very appearance spoke volumes. Men submitted to his will as soon as they saw him.

The great prizes of life ever fall to the robust, the stalwart, the strong,--not to a huge muscle or powerful frame necessarily, but to a strong vitality, a great nervous energy. It is the Lord Broughams, working almost continuously one hundred and forty-four hours; it is the Napoleons, twenty hours in the saddle; it is the Franklins, camping out in the open air at seventy; it is the Gladstones, firmly grasping the helm of the ship of state at eighty-four, tramping miles every day, and chopping down huge trees at eighty-five,--who accomplish the great things of life.

Life’s greatest prizes always go to the robust, the sturdy, the strong. Strength does not necessarily mean large muscles or a powerful body, but strong vitality and great nervous energy. Consider Lord Brougham, who worked almost continuously for 144 hours, and Napoleon, who spent 20 hours in the saddle. Consider Franklin, who camped outdoors at seventy, and Gladstone, who firmly led the government at eighty-four. At eighty-five, Gladstone walked miles every day and chopped down huge trees. People like these accomplish the great things in life.

To prosper you must improve your brain power; and nothing helps the brain more than a healthy body. The race of to-day is only to be won by those who will study to keep their bodies in such good condition that their minds are able and ready to sustain that high pressure on memory and mind, which our present fierce competition engenders. It is health rather than strength that is now wanted. Health is essentially the requirement of our time to enable us to succeed in life. In all modern occupations--from the nursery to the school, from the school to the shop or world beyond--the brain and nerve strain go on, continuous, augmenting, and intensifying.

To prosper, you must improve your brain power, and nothing helps the brain more than a healthy body. Today, only those who take care to keep their bodies healthy can win the race. A healthy body keeps the mind ready and able to withstand the intense pressure that fierce competition puts on memory and mental ability. What we need now is health rather than strength. Health is essential to success in life today. In every modern occupation, the strain on the brain and nerves is continuous and growing more intense. It begins in the nursery, continues through school, and carries on into the shop or the world beyond.

As a rule physical vigor is the condition of a great career. Stonewall Jackson, early in life, determined to conquer every weakness he had, physical, mental, and moral. He held all of his powers with a firm hand. To his great self-discipline and self-mastery he owed his success. So determined was he to harden himself to the weather that he could not be induced to wear an overcoat in winter. "I will not give in to the cold," he said. For a year, on account of dyspepsia, he lived on buttermilk and stale bread, and wore a wet shirt next his body because his doctor advised it, although everybody else ridiculed the idea. This was while he was professor at the Virginia Military Institute. His doctor advised him to retire at nine o'clock; and, no matter where he was, or who was present, he always sought his bed on the minute. He adhered rigidly through life to this stern system of discipline. Such self-training, such self-conquest, gives one great power over others. It is equal to genius itself.

As a rule, physical strength is necessary for a great career. Early in life, Stonewall Jackson resolved to overcome every physical, mental, and moral weakness he had. He kept all his powers under firm control. He owed his success to his great self-discipline and self-mastery. He was so determined to toughen himself against the weather that nothing could persuade him to wear an overcoat in winter. "I will not give in to the cold," he said. For a year, he lived on buttermilk and stale bread because of indigestion. He also wore a wet shirt against his skin because his doctor advised it, although everyone else ridiculed the idea. This was while he was a professor at the Virginia Military Institute. His doctor advised him to go to bed at nine o'clock. No matter where he was or who was present, he always went to bed at exactly nine. He followed this strict system of discipline throughout his life. Such self-training and self-conquest give a person great power over others. They are equal to genius itself.

"I can do nothing," said Grant, "without nine hours' sleep."

"I can't do anything," said Grant, "without nine hours of sleep."

What else is so grand as to stand on life's threshold, fresh, young, hopeful, with a consciousness of power equal to any emergency,--a master of the situation? The glory of a young man is his strength.

What could be more wonderful than standing at the beginning of life, fresh, young, and hopeful? You feel strong enough to meet any emergency and master any situation. A young man’s strength is his glory.

Our great need of the world to-day is for men and women who are good animals. To endure the strain of our concentrated civilization, the coming man and woman must have an excess of animal spirits. They must have a robustness of health. Mere absence of disease is not health. It is the overflowing fountain, not the one half full, that gives life and beauty to the valley below. Only he is healthy who exults in mere animal existence; whose very life is a luxury; who feels a bounding pulse throughout his body; who feels life in every limb, as dogs do when scouring over the field, or as boys do when gliding over fields of ice.

What the world needs most today is men and women who are physically strong and vigorous. To withstand the strain of our intense civilization, the men and women of the future must have abundant physical energy. They must enjoy robust health. Simply being free of disease is not health. A fountain must overflow to give life and beauty to the valley below. A half-full fountain cannot do that. Only a person who delights in physical existence itself is healthy. For such a person, life itself is a luxury. They feel a strong pulse throughout their body and life in every limb. They feel as dogs do when racing across a field, or as boys do when gliding across ice.

Yet in spite of all this, in defiance of it, we know that an iron will is often triumphant in the contest with physical infirmity.

Yet despite all this, we know that an iron will often triumphs over physical weakness.

"One day," said a noted rope-walker, "I signed an agreement to wheel a barrow along a rope on a given day. A day or two before I was seized with lumbago. I called in my medical man, and told him I must be cured by a certain day; not only because I should lose what I hoped to earn, but also forfeit a large sum. I got no better, and the doctor forbade my getting up. I told him, 'What do I want with your advice? If you cannot cure me, of what good is your advice?' When I got to the place, there was the doctor protesting I was unfit for the exploit. I went on, though I felt like a frog with my back. I got ready my pole and my barrow, took hold of the handles and wheeled it along the rope as well as I ever did. When I got to the end I wheeled it back again, and when this was done I was a frog again. What made me that I could wheel the barrow? It was my reserve will."

"One day," said a famous tightrope walker, "I signed an agreement to wheel a wheelbarrow along a rope on a certain day. A day or two before, I was struck with severe lower back pain. I called my doctor and told him I had to be cured by that day. Otherwise, I would lose not only the money I hoped to earn, but also a large sum I had pledged. I got no better, and the doctor ordered me not to get up. I told him, 'Why should I listen to your advice? If you cannot cure me, what good is your advice?' When I got to the venue, the doctor was there, protesting that I was unfit to perform. I went ahead, though my back made me feel like a frog. I got my pole and wheelbarrow ready, took the handles, and wheeled the barrow along the rope as well as ever. When I reached the end, I wheeled it back again. Once I had done that, I was a frog again. What enabled me to wheel the barrow? It was my reserve will."

"What does he know," asks the sage, "who has not suffered?" Did not Schiller produce his greatest tragedies in the midst of physical suffering almost amounting to torture? Handel was never greater than when, warned by palsy of the approach of death, and struggling with distress and suffering, he sat down to compose the great works which have made his name immortal in music. Beethoven was almost totally deaf and burdened with sorrow when he produced his greatest works. Milton writing "Who best can suffer, best can do," wrote at his best when in feeble health, and when poor and blind.

"What does someone know," asks the wise man, "if they have never suffered?" Didn’t Schiller write his greatest tragedies while enduring physical pain that was almost torture? Handel was never greater than when he sat down to compose the great works that made his name immortal in music. He was struggling with distress and suffering, and his paralysis warned him that death was near. Beethoven was almost completely deaf and burdened with sorrow when he created his greatest works. Milton wrote, "Those who can suffer best can do the most." He did his best writing when his health was weak and he was poor and blind.

The Rev. William H. Milburn, who lost his sight when a child, studied for the ministry, and was ordained before he attained his majority. He has written half a dozen books, among them a very careful history of the Mississippi Valley. He has long been chaplain of the lower house of Congress.

The Rev. William H. Milburn lost his sight as a child. He studied for the ministry and was ordained before he reached adulthood. He has written half a dozen books, including a very careful history of the Mississippi Valley. He has long been chaplain of the lower house of Congress.

Blind Fanny Crosby, of New York, was a teacher of the blind for many years. She has written nearly three thousand hymns, among which are: "Pass Me not, O Gentle Saviour," "Rescue the Perishing," "Saviour More than Life to Me," and "Jesus keep Me near the Cross."

Fanny Crosby of New York was blind and taught blind students for many years. She wrote nearly three thousand hymns. These include "Pass Me not, O Gentle Saviour," "Rescue the Perishing," "Saviour More than Life to Me," and "Jesus keep Me near the Cross."

"The truest help we can render one who is afflicted," said Bishop Brooks, "is not to take his burden from him, but to call out his best energy, that he may be able to bear."

"The best way to help someone who is suffering," said Bishop Brooks, "is not to take away his burden, but to bring out his greatest strength so that he can bear it."

What a mighty will Darwin had! He was in continual ill health. He was in constant suffering. His patience was marvellous. No one but his wife knew what he endured. "For forty years," says his son, "he never knew one day of health;" yet during those forty years he unremittingly forced himself to do the work from which the mightiest minds and the strongest constitutions would have shrunk. He had a wonderful power of sticking to a subject. He used almost to apologize for his patience, saying that he could not bear to be beaten, as if it were a sign of weakness.

What a powerful will Darwin had! He was always in poor health and constant pain. His patience was remarkable. Only his wife knew what he endured. His son said, "For forty years, he never knew a single day of good health." Yet throughout those years, Darwin kept pushing himself to do work that the strongest minds and healthiest people would have avoided. He had a remarkable ability to stick with a subject. He almost apologized for his patience, saying he could not bear to be beaten, as if that were a weakness.

Bulwer advises us to refuse to be ill, never to tell people we are ill, never to own it ourselves. Illness is one of those things which a man should resist on principle. Do not dwell upon your ailments nor study your symptoms. Never allow yourself to be convinced that you are not complete master of yourself. Stoutly affirm your own superiority over bodily ills. We should keep a high ideal of health and harmony constantly before the mind.

Bulwer advises us to refuse to be ill. Never tell people you are ill, and never admit it to yourself. Illness is something a person should resist on principle. Do not dwell on your ailments or study your symptoms. Never let yourself believe that you are not completely in control of yourself. Firmly declare that you are stronger than bodily illness. We should always keep a high ideal of health and harmony in mind.

Is not the mind the natural protector of the body? We cannot believe that the Creator has left the whole human race entirely at the mercy of only about half a dozen specific drugs which always act with certainty. There is a divine remedy placed within us for many of the ills we suffer. If we only knew how to use this power of will and mind to protect ourselves, many of us would be able to carry youth and cheerfulness with us into the teens of our second century. The mind has undoubted power to preserve and sustain physical youth and beauty, to keep the body strong and healthy, to renew life, and to preserve it from decay, many years longer than it does now. The longest-lived men and women have, as a rule, been those who have attained great mental and moral development. They have lived in the upper region of a higher life, beyond the reach of much of the jar, the friction, and the discords which weaken and shatter most lives.

Isn’t the mind the body’s natural protector? We cannot believe that the Creator has left the entire human race completely dependent on just six or so specific drugs that always work reliably. A divine remedy for many of our illnesses lies within us. If we only knew how to use the power of will and mind to protect ourselves, many of us could remain youthful and cheerful well past the age of one hundred. The mind has unquestionable power to preserve physical youth and beauty and keep the body strong and healthy. It can renew life and protect the body from decay for many more years than it does now. As a rule, the longest-lived men and women have been those who developed greatly in mind and character. They have lived on a higher plane, beyond much of the conflict, friction, and discord that weaken and shatter most lives.

Every physician knows that courageous people, with indomitable will, are not half as likely to contract contagious diseases as the timid, the vacillating, the irresolute. A thoughtful physician once assured a friend that if an express agent were to visit New Orleans in the yellow-fever season, having forty thousand dollars in his care, he would be in little danger of the fever so long as he kept possession of the money. Let him once deliver that into other hands, and the sooner he left the city the better.

Every doctor knows that courageous people with unbreakable will are less than half as likely to catch contagious diseases as those who are timid, wavering, and indecisive. A thoughtful doctor once gave a friend an example. Suppose an express agent visited New Orleans during yellow fever season, carrying forty thousand dollars. The agent would be in little danger of catching the fever as long as he kept the money. But once he handed it over to someone else, the sooner he left the city, the better.

Napoleon used to visit the plague hospitals even when the physicians dreaded to go, and actually put his hands upon the plague-stricken patients. He said the man who was not afraid could vanish the plague. A will power like this is a strong tonic to the body. Such a will has taken many men from apparent death-beds, and enabled them to perform wonderful deeds of valor. When told by his physicians that he must die, Douglas Jerrold said: "And leave a family of helpless children? I won't die." He kept his word, and lived for years.

Napoleon used to visit plague hospitals even when doctors were afraid to go. He even touched the patients suffering from the plague. He said that a man who was not afraid could make the plague disappear. Such willpower is a powerful tonic for the body. It has brought many men back from what seemed to be their deathbeds and enabled them to perform great acts of courage. When his doctors told him he was going to die, Douglas Jerrold said: "And leave a family of helpless children? I won't die." He kept his word and lived for years.