SECTION 17. Life consists in movement, says Aristotle; and he is
obviously right. We exist, physically, because our organism is the
seat of constant motion; and if we are to exist intellectually, it can
only be by means of continual occupation--no matter with what so long
as it is some form of practical or mental activity. You may see that
this is so by the way in which people who have no work or nothing to
think about, immediately begin to beat the devil's tattoo with their
knuckles or a stick or anything that comes handy. The truth is, that
our nature is essentially _restless_ in its character: we very soon
get tired of having nothing to do; it is intolerable boredom. This
impulse to activity should be regulated, and some sort of method
introduced into it, which of itself will enhance the satisfaction we
obtain. Activity!--doing something, if possible creating something, at
any rate learning something--how fortunate it is that men cannot exist
without that! A man wants to use his strength, to see, if he can, what
effect it will produce; and he will get the most complete satisfaction
of this desire if he can make or construct something--be it a book or
a basket. There is a direct pleasure in seeing work grow under one's
hands day by day, until at last it is finished. This is the pleasure
attaching to a work of art or a manuscript, or even mere manual labor;
and, of course, the higher the work, the greater pleasure it will
give.

From this point of view, those are happiest of all who are conscious
of the power to produce great works animated by some significant
purpose: it gives a higher kind of interest--a sort of rare flavor--to
the whole of their life, which, by its absence from the life of the
ordinary man, makes it, in comparison, something very insipid. For
richly endowed natures, life and the world have a special interest