We are ever obligated to a great duty, namely, to reach the maximum of our
possibilities. Our greatest prerogative in the economy of life is the wise
husbanding of resources, and the skillful marshaling of our forces on the
field of common duty. The great duty of leading a useful life confronts us
always. We can by no stratagem, whatsoever, escape its presence. We ever
hear its voice calling after us, and can no more flee from it than we can
flee from the voice of conscience. Like Poe's raven, it sets up a never
ceasing appeal at the door of our lives. Prudence forbids that we turn our
back on this duty of self-devotion. For as Michael Angelo saw in the block
of marble the hidden angel, a wise man sees in duty an infinite
opportunity.

Galileo was so absorbed in his pursuit that he forgot personal comfort and
even personal safety, and lost his eyesight in quest of the mountains in
the moon, the rings around Saturn and the "star-heaps" in the sky. And
when that distinguished man of science, Professor Agassiz, was invited to
lecture at a great price, his reply was, "I have no time to make money."
Likewise did the great Spurgeon, when offered almost fabulous prices to
cross the Atlantic and lecture, refuse because of a zealous devotion to
the purpose of his life. And every one should learn that the thorough and
faithful performance of duty is the first essential of a worthy life.

Every human soul was made with some design, invested with the possibility
of a useful life, a noble destiny. Whether it be the mercenary Greek
vending his wares on the street corner, or the roaming Italian with his
harp strapped over his shoulder, or the dissolute man behind prison bars
paying the penalty of misspent days--all are invested with latent power
and talent to fill a loftier place in the world. But, unfortunately, while
most men have the desire, not all have the determination to rise above the