Work, Our Highest Privilege

1902

Whoever attempts to escape work avoids his best friend. We read the story of man's fall in the light of subsequent revelation, only to find that work is not a curse, but our highest privilege. The fact that the seasons end urges us on to do our best. An endless probation is simply none at all. There is no more pathetic lamentation in all literature than this. The summer is ended and we are not saved. Probation is over. The Judge enters the field and counts the sheaves. The summer ever reproduces itself. They come in their annual succession, but each holds its own place. This summer will be this but once. Another will come, but it won't be this. Nothing is ever repeated. The second resembles the first, but is not to be identified with it. The sun never greets the earth twice the same. Probation is written everywhere. — Presbyterian Journal.