The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-11-30
The Habit Of Hurrring.


A medical contemporary publishes
some sensible and, we fear. only too OPP
perfume observations on what it calls
the s habit of hurry in modern bust
ness life. The modern man of business
dresses in q hurry; he breakfasts in d
hurry; he is in hurry to catch his
train; he is in hurry to get out of it.
1t is with hurry that he proceeds to his
office, in hurry that he reads his let
tiers, that he answers them. that he
passes his day, and that he returns to
the station to catch his homeward-
bound train. All this precipitation, this
constant, daily, perpetual being in q
hurry is altogether gratuitous, and
it is the mere result of a bad habit.
business men can not afford not to seem
to be in hurry. If one of them were
to walk at leisurely and deliberate
pace to his morning train, and saunter
through the day at the same rate, b CO.
pie would conclude that he had either
very little business to transact, or that
he was remiss and lethargic in trans
acting it. Hence, he begins by asstm-
ing a necessity for haste when none
really exists: and, by degrees, habit
becomes a. second nature. That there
is good deal of truth in all this no
body who has observantly watched mod
ern ways of life would dream of deny
ing. But in truth the habit of hustle
which is SO marked characteristic of
our time is originally set up by eondi-
tons over which men have little or no
control. In the case of men of BUSH
ness there are necessarily certain
days in the year" mail = days,
for instance, or balancingn DAYS
when there really does exist a greater
pressure of work than at other times.
In these cases push has to be made;
and everybody concerned in getting the
work done communicates his own
feverishness to his neighbors. But such
is the constitution of the human frame.
such the mechanism of the human
temperament, that what is done fire.
quently has tendency to establish it
self as a something that is always done.
1t even becomes a pleasure to some men
at last, as well as q necessity, to do
things quickly. Moreover, on the sup
position that man of business lives in
the country, or in a semi-rural suburb
which is the case with the majority
it is only natural that he should linger
among his household gods till the last
possible minute. 1t is so much
pleasanter to go round to the stable, to
see how the azaleas are getting on, to
count the coming rosebuds, to linger on
the dewy gravel path than to be in the
noisy, dirty, steaming city. Then sud-
denly the watch is taken out of the
pocket to see what time it is, and in
order to catch the city train he must
make run for it, The day begun in
that fashion probably is continued in
that fashion. The train arrives at the
place of departure five, ten, fifteen min
utes late. The traveller begins to fidget
and worry. He has an appointment,
and he fears he will beIate for it. Pos
sibly he is. Thereby everything is
thrown out of gear, and for the rest of
the day he is in the plight of Macaulay's
Duke of Newcastle, whom the historian
described as losing half an hour
in the morning and spending all
the rest of the day in a futile at
tempt to catch it up. It is easy
enough to see how it is that the
habit of hurry is set up, but much
more difficult to perceive how the set
ting up of it is to be avoided under the
conditions of modern life, or how, when
once set up, it is to be remedied. There
is, however, this comfort which men of
business and the working bees of soci-
ETY. may take to themselves, that mod
err life very often seems to spare the
drones no less. Certainly during the
height of the London season no persons
acquire habits of hurry more complete
ly than people of fashion. In order to
consume all the amount of enjoy
ment'' that is placed at their disposal
they must perpetually be in a hurry.
How to be in the Row-in time; how to
be back for luncheon-in time; how to
dress for dinner-in time; how to reach
the theater or the opera in time; these
are problems of daily, of hourly occur
renee in the West End. The whole of
modern life, whether in the centers Of
pleasure or the centers of business, is
dominated by the desire to do too
much, and the consequent necessity of
doing it with precipitation. 1t is a hor-
rible habit--a detrimental habit; we
had almost said avulgar habit. The
whole world is in a conspiracy to
double, to treble the pace. And what
is gained by it? Loss of temper, deteri-
Grafton of manners, injury to di-
gestion, increase of nervous diseases
these are the natural and inevitable re-
suits Of that high pressure to which we
nearly all expose ourselves and subject
each other. Who is made happier by
it, who wiser, who even richer? Every
thing is relative in this world; and if
everybody gallops nobody is better off
than if everybody walked. But who
will consent to alter it? 1t would re-
quire universal consensus; and this Is
not attainable. London Standard.