If we examine the law of averages， we will often be astoundedat the facts we uncover. For example， if I knew that during thenext five years I would have to fight in a battle as bloody as theBattle of Gettysburg， I would be terrified. I would take out allthe life insurance I could get. I would draw up my will and setall my earthly affairs in order. I would say： “I’ll probably neverlive through that battle， so I had better make the most of the few years I have left.” Yet the facts are that， according to the law ofaverages， it is just as dangerous， just as fatal， to try to live fromage fifty to age fifty-five in peacetime as it was to fight in theBattle of Gettysburg. What I am trying to say is this： in times ofpeace， just as many people die per thousand between the ages offifty and fifty-five as were killed per thousand among the 163，000 soldiers who fought at Gettysburg.
I wrote several chapters of this book at James Simpson’s NumTi-Gah Lodge， on the shore of Bow Lake in the Canadian Rockies.
While stopping there one summer， I met Mr. and Mrs. HerbertH. Salinger， of 2298 Pacific Avenue， San Francisco. Mrs. Salinger，a poised， serene woman， gave me the impression that she hadnever worried. One evening in front of the roaring fireplace， Iasked her if she had ever been troubled by worry. “Troubled byit?” she said.
“My life was almost ruined by it. Before I learned to conquerworry， I lived through eleven years of self-made hell. I wasirritable and hottempered. I lived under terrific tension. I wouldtake the bus every week from my home in San Mateo to shop inSan Francisco. But even while shopping， I worried myself into adither： maybe I had left the electric iron connected on the ironingboard. Maybe the house had caught fire. Maybe the maid hadrun off and left the children. Maybe they had been out on theirbicycles and been killed by a car. In the midst of my shopping，I would often worry myself into a cold perspiration and rushout and take the bus home to see if everything was all right. Nowonder my first marriage ended in disaster.
“My second husband is a lawyer—a quiet， analytical man whonever worries about anything. When I became tense and anxious，he would say to me： ‘relax. Let’s think this out… What are you really worrying about? Let’s examine the law of averages and seewhether or not it is likely to happen.’
“For example， I remember the time we were driving fromAlbuquerque， New Mexico， to the Carlsbad Caverns—driving on adirt road—when we were caught in a terrible rainstorm. “The carwas slithering and sliding. We couldn’t control it. I was positivewe would slide off into one of the ditches that flanked the road;but my husband kept repeating to me： ‘I am driving very slowly.
Nothing serious is likely to happen. Even if the car does slide intothe ditch， by the law of averages， we won’t be hurt.’ His calmnessand confidence quieted me.
“One summer we were on a camping trip in the TouquinValley of the Canadian Rockies. One night we were campingseven thousand feet above sea level， when a storm threatenedto tear our tents to shreds. The tents were tied with guy ropesto a wooden platform. The outer tent shook and trembled andscreamed and shrieked in the wind. I expected every minute tosee our tent torn loose and hurled through the sky. I was terrified！
But my husband kept saying： ‘Look， my dear， we are travellingwith Brewster’s guides. Brewster’s know what they are doing.
They have been pitching tents in these mountains for sixty years.
This tent has been here for many seasons. It hasn’t blown downyet and， by the law of averages， it won’t blow away tonight; andeven if it does， we can take shelter in another tent. So relax… Idid; and I slept soundly the balance of the night.
“A few years ago an infantile-paralysis epidemic sweptover our part of California. In the old days， I would have beenhysterical. But my husband persuaded me to act calmly. Wetook all the precautions we could; we kept our children awayfrom crowds， away from school and the movies. By consulting the Board of Health， we found out that even during the worstinfantile-paralysis epidemic that California had ever known up tothat time， only 1，835 children had been stricken in the entire stateof California. And that the usual number was around two hundredor three hundred. Tragic as those figures are， we neverthelessfelt that， according to the law of averages， the chances of any onechild being stricken were remote.
“‘By the law of averages， it won’t happen.’ that phrase hasdestroyed ninety per cent of my worries; and it has made the pasttwenty years of my life beautiful and peaceful beyond my highestexpectations.” As I look back across the decades， I can see thatis where most of my worries came from also. Jim Grant told methat that had been his experience， too. He owns the James A.
Grant Distributing company， 204 Franklin Street， New York City.
He orders from ten to fifteen car-loads of Florida oranges andgrapefruit at a time. He told me that he used to torture himselfwith such thoughts as：What if there’s a train wreck? What if my fruit is strewn allover the countryside? What if a bridge collapses as my cars aregoing across it? Of course， the fruit was insured; but he fearedthat if he didn’t deliver his fruit on time， he might risk the loss ofhis market. He worried so much that he feared he had stomachulcers and went to a doctor. The doctor told him there wasnothing wrong with him except jumpy nerves.