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How to Live on 24 Hours a Day is a book by
Arnold Bennett, first published in 1908. This classic self-help book encourages readers to manage their time effectively to make the most out of the 24 hours in a day. Bennett argues that many people squander their time, one of their most valuable resources, without even realizing it. The core idea of the book is that even people with busy jobs and responsibilities can find time for personal development if they use their time wisely.
Arnold Bennett (27 May 1867 – 27 March 1931) was an English writer, best known for his novels set in the Five Towns which is fictitiously modeled on the pottery towns of Stoke-on-Trent in Staffordshire, where he was born. He wrote prolifically, producing novels, plays, essays, and journalism. Bennett's writing is characterized by detailed, realistic portrayals of everyday life and complex characters. His works are often considered as part of the realism movement in English literature.
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How to Live on 24 Hours a Day
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Table of contents
Preface To This Edition
1. The Daily Miracle
2. The Desire To Exceed One's Programme
3. Precautions Before Beginning
4. The Cause Of The Troubles
5. Tennis And The Immortal Soul
6. Remember Human Nature
7. Controlling The Mind
8. The Reflective Mood
9. Interest In The Arts
10. Nothing In Life Is Humdrum
11. Serious Reading
12. Dangers To Avoid
Preface To This Edition
This preface, though placed at the beginning, as a preface must be, should be read at the end of the book.
I have received a large amount of correspondence concerning this small work, and many reviews of it—some of them nearly as long as the book itself—have been printed. But scarcely any of the comment has been adverse. Some people have objected to a frivolity of tone; but as the tone is not, in my opinion, at all frivolous, this objection did not impress me; and had no weightier reproach been put forward I might almost have been persuaded that the volume was flawless! A more serious stricture has, however, been offered—not in the press, but by sundry obviously sincere correspondents—and I must deal with it. A reference to page 43 will show that I anticipated and feared this disapprobation. The sentence against which protests have been made is as follows:—"In the majority of instances he [the typical man] does not precisely feel a passion for his business; at best he does not dislike it. He begins his business functions with some reluctance, as late as he can, and he ends them with joy, as early as he can. And his engines, while he is engaged in his business, are seldom at their full 'h.p.'"
I am assured, in accents of unmistakable sincerity, that there are many business men—not merely those in high positions or with fine prospects, but modest subordinates with no hope of ever being much better off—who do enjoy their business functions, who do not shirk them, who do not arrive at the office as late as possible and depart as early as possible, who, in a word, put the whole of their force into their day's work and are genuinely fatigued at the end thereof.
I am ready to believe it. I do believe it. I know it. I always knew it. Both in London and in the provinces it has been my lot to spend long years in subordinate situations of business; and the fact did not escape me that a certain proportion of my peers showed what amounted to an honest passion for their duties, and that while engaged in those duties they were really living to the fullest extent of which they were capable. But I remain convinced that these fortunate and happy individuals (happier perhaps than they guessed) did not and do not constitute a majority, or anything like a majority. I remain convinced that the majority of decent average conscientious men of business (men with aspirations and ideals) do not as a rule go home of a night genuinely tired. I remain convinced that they put not as much but as little of themselves as they conscientiously can into the earning of a livelihood, and that their vocation bores rather than interests them.
Nevertheless, I admit that the minority is of sufficient importance to merit attention, and that I ought not to have ignored it so completely as I did do. The whole difficulty of the hard-working minority was put in a single colloquial sentence by one of my correspondents. He wrote: "I am just as keen as anyone on doing something to 'exceed my programme,' but allow me to tell you that when I get home at six thirty p.m. I am not anything like so fresh as you seem to imagine."
