The reason lies in the fact of their having to do a certain thing at a certain time, and to do it with an audience. They must give their performance and maintain their highest standard of excellence, when perchance their heads are aching, or they have got a bad cold and are only fit to be in bed. They must be up to time, or they may find their place occupied by another. For similar reasons the parson is always vastly more liable to breakdowns than the lawyer or doctor. He may get up feeling tired or ill on Sunday morning, but, except at the risk of causing great inconvenience to others, he must put in an appearance in the pulpit. Yet there is another consideration which enters even more largely into the question. It is that these public appearances often interfere with meal-times and sleep. A performance or a meeting in the evening necessitates a delayed supper and late hours of retiring to rest. The nervous system is at the same time worked up into an excited condition, so that it has its rest and nourishment cut off just when it stands most in need of both. Much of this may, however, be avoided by judicious care. There have been speakers, artistes and other public characters who have been able to continue in harness up to an advanced age. They have achieved this simply by strict attention to the needs of the body. They would fortify themselves with a good meal beforehand; whatever else happened, they would not allow that function to be interfered with. If they could not get food before leaving home, they would arrange for it to be ready for them at the rendezvous. On arriving home again, they would give their nervous systems the best chance by taking a meal and then having a quiet read, with a smoke if they were so inclined, afterwards going to bed as soon as was compatible with their digestions. Many of these may seem trivial details, yet it is the little things of life which amount to so much; and if these precautions are observed, there are many weary workers in all ranks of life who will find that labour loses much of its drudgery. If everyone were to carry them out, we should see fewer haggard faces and tired eyes than we do at present. One has only to travel in any suburban train to find out how many people there are who go home each evening weary and done up. This is not what life was meant to be. Honest fatigue there will always be, but no one objects to that. It is the jaded despondency on the faces of so many people at the close of their day’s work that is contrary to all principles of humanity. It is one thing to be tired; it is a different thing to reach home more dead than alive, and ready to drop. If people would take more care in preparing themselves for their daily duties, and in improving their conditions of work, both for themselves and their employees, we should hear very much less of breakdowns than we do at present. [Sidenote: After work.]