man. Here lies the "Parable of the Talents."

Look at the profusion, the prodigality, the beneficence of Nature, Flowers
and Fruit, Beauty and Bloom and Fragrance everywhere. Where there is no
eye to see, no hand to pluck, Mother Nature delights in profusion,
seemingly because she is made that way and cannot help it. And yet, in
this little Rose-garden of ours--the Human Soul -we tramp down the
flowers, plant loathsome weeds and poisons that kill and degrade and besot
us, set up the tables of the money-changers, drive out the doves of
Hesperides, and turn the temple into a shambles for wild beasts. "Nothing
pays." "Let us curse God and--die!"

Is there not something after all in the _Measure of Values_, and in the
inexorable _Law of Use_?

And who _constrains_ us but _ourselves_?

Can God and Nature be so prodigal, noting even the sparrows fall, and yet
disregard the children of men?

What our resources are we can never imagine till we draw upon and begin to
utilize them as others have done throughout the ages.

The "average sinner," seemingly to justify or excuse his own failure, will
not believe that any have ever achieved. _But there they stand_ all down
the ages! Ecclesiastics help the deception and keep up the illusion by
calling it _Miracle_ or "Special Providence," and so prevent man from
entering his birthright, _to possess it_; and so we sell our birthright
for a mess of pottage. It is like the dissipated, poverty-stricken
spendthrift, who shuts his eyes and refuses to believe that any, by
industry, economy, integrity and hard work have secured a competency. And
so he cries, "Come on, boys! let's have another drink, and then rob this
bond-holder, who has more than his share."

The Measure of Values, and the Law of Use _hold everywhere_, in every
department of human life; and the question, "Does it pay?" is practical
and scientific to the last degree, and no one can answer but ourselves. As
we answer will be the results, and nothing but ourselves can change them.

We must realize that the human body, the organism of man, with all its
faculties, capacities and powers, is but an _instrument_ of the Individual
Intelligence; and that every experience in life, every episode in our
career, is like a day's work; perfecting the instrument for more and
better work, if used rightly; till we advance from height to height of
being; to larger and still larger and more glorious fields of work and
experience.

There