at all. But to understand the cause of this inequality we must examine the character of the work implied, and the spirit in which that work is done. Is it undertaken with cheerfulness and zeal? Or is it merely accepted as a "grind," to be shirked whenever possible and only half accomplished? I venture to think that the man who loves his work,—who is content to begin at the lowest rung of the ladder in order to master all the minutest details of his particular trade or profession—whose Work is dearer to him than either his wages or his dinner—is bound to be rewarded, bound to succeed in whatever calling of life he may be. It is the half-hearted worker who fails. It is the "scamp" worker who sticks in the rut. Every man should do his utmost best. When he does only his half or quarter best, he wrongs his own capability and intelligence even more than he wrongs his employer. To "scamp" even the simplest kind of work proves him to be out of tune with Nature. For in the natural world we find no "scamping." Each tiny leaf, each humble insect is as perfect in its way as the planet itself. A midge's wing seen through the microscope is as brilliant and beautiful as that of a butterfly. And so,—"looking up through Nature unto Nature's God" we hear everywhere the Divine command—"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy Might."
I hardly think the love of Work, for Work's own sake, is a leading characteristic of the workers of the present day. There is a tendency to "rush" everything,—to get it done and over. It is a rare thing to meet a man who is so fond of his work that he can hardly be persuaded to leave it. Yet in
