ce of objects
which represent interests vastly wider, deeper, more enduring than the
interests of our individual lives. The balance, which was evenly poised
when we weighed ourselves against other individuals, now inclines toward
the side of these social institutions, without which the individual life
would be stripped of all its worth and dignity, apart from which man
would be no longer man. Duty here demands devotion and self-sacrifice.

Finally, when we draw near to God, who is the author and sustainer of
individuals, of science and art and nature, and of social institutions,
then the true relation becomes one of reverence and worship.

In each case duty is the fullest realization of self and object. Whether
self or the object shall be the determining factor in the relation
depends on whether the object in question has less, equal, or greater
worth than the individual self.

If we do our duty repeatedly and perseveringly in any direction, we form
the habit of doing it, learn to enjoy it, and acquire a preference for
it. This habitual preference for a duty is the virtue corresponding to
it.

Virtue is manliness or womanliness. It is the steadfast assertion of
what we see to be our duty against the solicitations of temptation.
Virtue is mastery; first of self, and through self-mastery, the mastery
of the objects with which we come in contact.

Since duty is the maintenance of self and its objects in highest
realization, and virtue is constant and joyous fidelity to duty, it
follows that duty and virtue cannot fail of that enlargement and
enrichment of life which is their appropriate reward.

The reward of virtue will vary according to the duty done and the object
toward which it is directed. The virtues which deal with mere things
will bring as their rewards material prosperity. The virtues which deal
with ideal objects will have their reward in increased capacities,
intensified sensibilities, and elevated tastes. The virtues which deal
with our fellow-men will be rewarded by enlargement of social sympathy,
and deeper tenderness of feeling. The virtues which are directed toward
family, state, and society, have their reward in that exalted sense of
participation in great and glorious aims, which lift one up above the
limitations of his private self, and can make even death sweet and
beautiful--a glad and willing offering to that larger social self of
which it is the individual's highest privilege to count himself