TALKS WITH A KID BROTHER
the round hole and into a square one. Incidentally, in fact, I might say consequently, he is doing more actual good in the world, as we happen to know, than he ever did or could do as a clergyman.
As a preacher he could no more do what he was put here for, could no more attain his highest degree of efficiency in the world than a flower could make a success at singing or a bird at blooming. The very essence of work is one's self in action. It isn't merely exertion, but exertion in your own medium. Chickens cannot swim well, nor do they enjoy trying. But in your own element, work ought to be no more abhorrent than for a flower to push out a bud or a bird to carry twigs to build a nest, both of which are perhaps difficult but presumably congenial tasks. Sometimes I suppose they seem rather irksome—in bad weather we will say—but not to do them at all is wrong, is abnormal, is perversion, is obstructing the universe, is miserable. Moral number one: Nobody can be happy without working, and you'd better work at your own job if you
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