grows into a tree. The tree bears fruit, which
contains the seed of new manifestations of itself. The fruit falls to
the ground and rots, providing thus the aliment for the seed out of
which other trees are to spring. From seed to seed the life of the tree
is a cycle, without beginning and without end. At no one point in the
cycle can we say, Here is the purpose of the tree. Incidentally the
tree may minister to the needs and comfort and pleasure of man. The
tree delights him to look upon it; its branches shade him from the
noonday sun; its trunk and limbs can be hewn down and turned to
heat and shelter; its fruit is good to eat. The primary purpose of the
fruit, however, is not to furnish food to man, but to provide the
envelope for the transmission of its seed and the continuance of its
own life. Seen in its cosmic bearing and scope, the purpose of the
tree is to be a tree, as fit, as strong, as beautiful, as complete, as
tree-like, as it can be. The leaf precedes the flower and may be thought
on that account to be inferior to it in the scale of development. If a
leaf pines and withers in regret that it is not a flower, it not only
does not become a flower, but it fails of being a good leaf.
Everything in its place and after its own kind. In so far as it is
perfectly itself, a leaf, a blossom, a tree, a man, does it contribute to
the well-being of others. Man has subdued all things under his feet
and turned them to his own uses. By force of mind he is the
strongest creature, but it is not to be inferred that he is therefore the
aim and end of all creation. Like everything else, he has his place;
like everything else he has the right to live his own life, triumphing
over the weaker and in his turn going down before a mightier when
the mightier shall come; like everything else he is but a part in the
universal whole. Only a part; but as we recognize our relation to
other parts and through them our connection with the whole, our
sense of the value of the individual life becomes infinitely extended.
We must get into the rhythm, keeping step with the beat of the
universal life and finding there our place, our destiny, the meaning
of our being here, and joy. The goods which men set before
themselves as an end are but by-products after all. If we pursue
happiness we overtake it not. If we do what our hands find to do,
devotedly and with our might, then, some day, if we happen to stop
and make question of it, we discover that