and they get usury in kind. They are like men multiplied.
Each counts manifold. Men who live with an eye only upon what is
their own are dwarfed beside them--seem fractions while they are
integers. The trustworthiness of men trusted seems often to grow
with the trust.

It is for this reason that men are in love with power and greatness:
it affords them so pleasurable an expansion of faculty, so large a
run for their minds, an exercise of spirit so various and
refreshing; they have the freedom of so wide a tract of the world of
affairs. But if they use power only for their own ends, if there be
no unselfish service in it, if its object be only their personal
aggrandizement, their love to see other men tools in their hands,
they go out of the world small, disquieted, beggared, no enlargement
of soul vouchsafed them, no usury of satisfaction. They have added
nothing to themselves. Mental and physical powers alike grow by
use, as every one knows; but labor for oneself is like exercise in a
gymnasium. No healthy man can remain satisfied with it, or regard
it as anything but a preparation for tasks in the open, amid the
affairs of the world--not sport, but business--where there is no
orderly apparatus, and every man must devise the means by which he
is to make the most of himself. To make the most of himself means
the multiplication of his activities, and he must turn away from
himself for that. He looks about him, studies the fact of business
or of affairs, catches some intimation of their larger objects, is
guided by the intimation, and presently finds himself part of the
motive force of communities or of nations. It makes no difference
how small part, how insignificant, how unnoticed. When his powers
begin to play outward, and he loves the task at hand, not because it
gains him a livelihood, but because it makes him a life, he has come