very interesting to us. The familiar distinction between _work_
and _play_ has no root in nature. Animals do not look upon their
labours as a painful task, only to be endured for a time and then to
be rewarded by an interval of diversion; to the horse or the dog the
day's work is the day's treat; and so with those men whom we
contemptuously call "savages." It is the same with artists; no artist
has mastered the technique of his work until it has become a pleasure
and a plaything to him. There could not be a more significant comment
on the unnaturalness of a civilization in which periods of leisure for
the workman have to be wrung from the community by legislation. The
true workman, like the true artist, is never happy unless he is at
work; he needs no diversion.

Of the greatest interest to us are the results of the inquiries of
economists into the relations between work, rhythm, and song amongst
primitive people. Especially valuable is a treatise by Dr. Karl
Bucher, professor of national economy in Leipzig, entitled _Arbeit
und Rhythmus_, which ought to find many readers in England if it
were translated. I know few modern books that are more fascinating,
and it would be hard to say whether its charm lies more in its solid
scientific method or in its admirable literary presentation and apt
illustrations from the delicate verse-song of the most primitive
peoples.

"_Im Anfang war der Rhythmus_." According to Dr. Buecher, all
work, when efficient, tends to be rhythmic and each kind of work has
its peculiar rhythm. This is especially the case when the labour is
carried out in common by a number of people, and the rhythm is
embodied in a song, or rhythmic word of command sung by the leader.
Innumerable instances will at once occur to everybody--rowing,