10 of Eden, they will carry out the duty of human dominion, though they have lost its felicity; and dress and keep the wilderness, though they no more can dress or keep the garden. 5 These, hewers of wood, and drawers of waterthese bent under burdens, or torn of scourges-these, that dig and weave-that plant and build; workers in wood, and in marble, and in iron-by whom all food, clothing, habitation, furniture, and means of delight are produced, for themselves, and for all men beside; men, whose deeds are good, though their words. may be few; men, whose lives are serviceable, be they never so short, and worthy of honor, be they never so humble;-from these, surely at least, we may receive some clear message of teaching: and pierce, for an instant, into the mystery of life, and of its arts. 15 Yes; from these, at last, we do receive a lesson. But I grieve to say, or rather—for that is the deeper 20 truth of the matter-I rejoice to say-this message of theirs can only be received by joining them—not by thinking about them. And now, returning to the broader question, what these arts and labors of life have to teach us of its 25 mystery, this is the first of their lessons-that the more beautiful the art, the more it is essentially the work of people who feel themselves wrong;--who are striving for the fulfillment of a law, and the grasp of a loveliness, which they have not yet attained, which they feel even farther and farther from attaining, the 30 more they strive for it. And yet, in still deeper sense, it is the work of people who know also that they are right. The very sense of inevitable error from their purpose marks the perfectness of that purpose, and the continued sense of failure arises from the continued opening of the eyes more clearly to all the sacredest laws of truth. 15 This is one lesson. The second is a very plain, and greatly precious one, namely:-that whenever the arts and labors of life are fulfilled in this spirit of 10 striving against misrule, and doing whatever we have to do, honorably and perfectly, they invariably bring happiness, as much as seems possible to the nature of man. In all other paths, by which that happiness is pursued, there is disappointment, or destruction: for ambition and for passion there is no rest-no fruition--the fairest pleasures of youth perish in a darkness greater than their past light; and the loftiest and purest love too often does but inflame the cloud of life with endless fire of pain. But, ascending from 20 lowest to highest, through every scale of human industry, that industry worthily followed, gives peace. Ask the laborer in the field, at the forge, or in the mine; ask the patient, delicate-fingered artisan, or the strong-armed, fiery-hearted worker in bronze, and 25 in marble, and with the colors of light; and none of these, who are true workmen, will ever tell you, that they have found the law of heaven an unkind one -that in the sweat of their face they should eat bread, till they return to the ground; nor that they 30 5 ever found it an unrewarded obedience, if, indeed, it was rendered faithfully to the command-" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do-do it with thy might." From "Sesame and Lilies." JOHN RUSKIN. THE DAFFODILS. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Continuous as the stars that shine They stretched in never-ending line Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they In such a jocund company: I gazed-and gazed-but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 5 so. SAMUEL JOHNSON. As for Johnson, I have always considered him to be, by nature, one of our great English souls. A strong and noble man; so much left undeveloped in him to the last in a kindlier element what might he 10 not have been,-Poet, Priest, sovereign Ruler! On the whole, a man must not complain of his "element," of his "time" or the like; it is thriftless work doing His time is bad; well then, he is there to make it better!-Johnson's youth was poor, isolated, hope- 15 less, very miserable. Indeed, it does not seem possible that, in any the favorablest outward circumstances, Johnson's life could have been other than a painful one. The world might have had more of profitable work out of him, or less; but his effort against the 20 world's work could never have been a light one. Nature in return for his nobleness, had said to him, Live in an element of diseased sorrow. Nay perhaps the sorrow and the nobleness were intimately and even inseparably connected with each other. At all events, 25 poor Johnson had to go about girt with continual 15 hypochondria, physical and spiritual pain. Like a Hercules with the burning Nessus' shirt on him, which shoots in on him dull incurable misery: the Nessus' shirt not to be stripped off, which is his own natural 5 skin! In this manner, he had to live. Figure him there, with his scrofulous diseases, with his great greedy heart, and unspeakable chaos of thoughts; stalking mournful as a stranger in this Earth; eagerly devouring what spiritual thing he 10 could come at: school languages and other merely grammatical stuff, if there were nothing better! The largest soul that was in all England; and provision made for it of "fourpence-halfpenny a day." Yet a giant invincible soul; a true man's. One remembers always that story of the shoes at Oxford: the rough, seamy-faced, raw-boned College Servitor stalking about, in winter-season, with his shoes worn out; how the charitable Gentleman Commoner secretly places a new pair at his door; and the raw-boned 20 Servitor, lifting them, looking at them near, with his dim eyes, with what thoughts,-pitches them out of window! Wet feet, mud, frost, hunger or what you will; but not beggary: we cannot stand beggary! Rude stubborn self-help here; a whole world of 25 squalor, rudeness, confused misery and want, yet of nobleness and manfulness withal. It is a type of the man's life, this pitching away of the shoes. An original man;—not a second-hand, borrowing or begging Let us stand on our own basis, at any rate! 30 On such shoes as we ourselves can get. On frost and man. |