good draught of life see that the cup is full to the brim. The loungers of society make a great mistake even from their own point of view. Horace says very truly that you must "earn your sauce by hard exercise." Few men are to be pitied more than those who, born in the lap of luxury, find no work to do. To outsiders they seem to have " a fine time of it;" but they are often filled with ennui, and complain that, apart from some new sensation, life is a "bore." The relish and zest of life can only be enjoyed by the hard worker. It is he, after all, who luxuriates in the keen air of Swiss mountains, or in the cold plunge of the salt sea. There must be action if there is to be reaction; there must be enjoyable and earnest work if there is to be thorough rest. The notions which many men have, and carry out, of retiring from business are both ludicrous and sorrowful. Having obtained a competence, they go with their unmarried daughters to some respectable watering-place, and expect to enjoy the otium cum dignitate. But life becomes one long yawn. They have no occupation to fall back upon. When they have spent their mornings at the reading-room, their afternoons on the pro* "Satires of Horace," book ii. 2. menade, and their evenings in making up their petty cash, life has revealed all its secrets to them. They have been hard workers in their time, but they are now pensioners on the amusements of a middle-class resort. Their work ran in a rut. They did not store up occupation as well as money for days to come; otherwise their years of retirement might have been marked by much mental enjoyment and social usefulness. I want to warn you away from all idleness. Perhaps the ragged sort may act upon you like a scarecrow, and you may, through self-interested motives, avoid positive sloth. But remember that indolence in some shape is your special temptation in these early years. Too much sleep, too much eating and drinking, too much frivolity, too much gadding about to see and hear this and that, too little plan as to the order of your duties and recreations, too much idle talk and too little reading, too much reading and too little attention and thought, too much contempt of details in your daily business-these are your temptations. Idleness that struts along the pavement flourishing its goldheaded cane, is neither mentally nor morally better than sloth that shuffles by its side in threadbare attire. Few things impede a voyage more effectually than a calm beneath the burning rays of a tropical sun. How the sailors hate it! Rations run low, pure water is scarce, the cargo spoils, the health of the men suffers, and the ship is in a sea of death. It is the picture of the idler. May you never be becalmed! |