February 24

ALL true Work is sacred; in all true Work, were it but true hand-labour, there is something of divineness. Labour, wide as the Earth, has its summit in Heaven. Sweat of the brow; and up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart; which includes all Kepler calculations, Newton meditations, all Sciences, all spoken Epics, all acted Heroisms, Martyrdoms,—up to that "Agony of bloody sweat," which all men have called divine! O brother, if this is not "worship," then I say, the more pity for worship; for this is the noblest thing yet discovered under God's sky. Who art thou that complainest of thy life of toil? Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother; see thy fellow-workmen there, in God's Eternity; surviving there, they alone surviving: sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Body-guard of the Empire of Mankind.

THOMAS CARLYLE

THE TOILERS

Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone.

LIFE was to them the bag of grain, And Death the weedy harrow's tooth.

Those warriors of the fighting brain Give worn Humanity new youth.

Our song and star are they to lead The tidal multitudes and blind From bestial to the higher breed By fighting souls of love divined.

They scorned the ventral dream of peace, Unknown in nature. This they knew:

That life begets with fair increase Beyond the flesh, if life be true.

GEORGE MERE- DITH

III

LOVE