ould only study all sides of our being in an exact
proportion, we should attain wisdom. But in truth a chief part of
education is to exercise one set of faculties _a outrance_--one, since
we have not the time so to practise all; thus the dilettante misses the
kernel of the matter; and the man who has wrung forth the secret of one
part of life knows more about the others than he who has tepidly
circumnavigated all. (8) Thus, one must be your profession, the rest can
only be your delights; and virtue had better be kept for the latter, for
it enters into all, but none enters by necessity into it. You will learn
a great deal of virtue by studying any art; but nothing of any art in
the study of virtue. (9) The study of conduct has to do with grave
problems; not every action should be higgled over; one of the leading
virtues therein is to let oneself alone. But if you make it your chief
employment, you are sure to meddle too much. This is the great error of
those who are called pious. Although the war of virtue be unending
except with life, hostilities are frequently suspended, and the troops
go into winter quarters; but the pious will not profit by these times of
truce; where their conscience can perceive no sin, they will find a sin
in that very innocency; and so they pervert, to their annoyance, those
seasons which God gives to us for repose and a reward. (10) The nearest
approximation to sense in all this matter lies with the Quakers. There
must be no _will_-worship; how much more, no _will_-repentance! The
damnable consequence of set seasons, even for prayer, is to have a man
continually posturing to himself, till his conscience is taught as many
tricks as a pet monkey, and the gravest expressions are left with a
perverted meaning. (11) For my part, I should try to secure some part of
every day for meditation, above all in the early morning and the open
air; but how that time was to be improved I should leave to circumstance
and the inspiration of the hour. Nor if I spent it in whistling or
numbering my footsteps, should I consider it misspent for that. I should
have given my conscience a fair field; when it has anything to say, I
know too well it can speak daggers; therefore, for this time, my hard
taskmaster has given me a holyday, and I may go in again rejoicing to my
breakfast and the human business of the day.

VIII. GRATITUDE TO GOD.--(1) To the gratitude that becomes us in this
life, I can set no limit. Though we