it soon becomes apparent that it is leading to less and less strain,
and finally to restful work.

There are laws for rest, laws for work, and laws for play, which, if
we find and follow them, lead us to quiet, useful lines of life,
which would be impossible without them. They are the laws of our own
being, and should carry us as naturally as the instincts of the
animals carry them, and so enable us to do right in the right way,
and make us so sure of the manner in which we do our work that we
can give all our attention to the work itself; and when we have the
right habit of working, the work itself must necessarily gain,
because we can put the best of ourselves into it.

It is helpful to think of the instincts of the beasts, how true and
orderly they are, on their own plane, and how they are only
perverted when the animals have come under the influence of man.
Imagine Baloo, the bear in Mr. Kipling's "Jungle Book," being asked
how he managed to keep so well and rested. He would look a little
surprised and say: "Why, I follow the laws of my being. How could I
do differently?" Now that is just the difference between man and
beast. Man can do differently. And man has done differently now for
so many generations that not one in ten thousand really recognizes
what the laws of his being are, except in ways so gross that it
seems as if we had sunken to the necessity of being guided by a
crowbar, instead of steadily following the delicate instinct which
is ours by right, and so voluntarily accepting the guidance of the
Power who made us, which is the only possible way to freedom.

Of course the laws of a man's being are infinitely above the laws of
a beast's. The laws of a man's being are spiritual, and the animal