gold, viewed for the last time the magnificent array of his armies and his
fleets, we read that he buried his face in his hands and wept, because he
had reached the zenith of his glory; his ambition had been spent, his work
had come to an end. And more desolate should be the man to-day who does
not feel the passion of an earnest life, who does not yearn for some noble
activity. He who sits with folded arms in the craft of civilization to be
borne idly along while others ply the oars, must soon part company with
the brave, loyal sons of activity to launch his idle bark in the dead
waters of life, where the currents never come and the winds of energy are
never felt.

"At the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
On its sounding anvil shaped,
Each burning deed and thought."




V

Ethics of Activity



"The busy world shoves angrily aside
The man who stands with arms akimbo set,
Till the occasion tells him what to do;
And he who waits to have his task marked out.
Shall die and leave his errand unfulfilled."