his conscience
concerning it.

2. We must remember that "force of character is cumulative, and all
the foregone days of virtue work their health into this." The task
need not be begun afresh each morning; yesterday's strokes are still
there, and to-day's efforts will make the carving deeper and bolder.

3. We may compel the body to carry out an order, the fingers to
perform a task; but this is mere slavish compliance. True obedience
can never be enforced; it is the fruit of the reason and the will, the
free, glad offering of the spirit.

4. Though many motives have their place in early will-training,--love
of approval, deference to public opinion, the influence of beauty,
hopeful occupation, respect and rev for those in authority,--yet these
are all preparatory, the preliminary exercises, which must be well
practiced before the soul can spread her wings into the blue.

5. There is but one true and final motive to good conduct, and that
is a hunger in the soul of man for the blessing of the spirit, a
ceaseless longing to be in perfect harmony with the principles of
everlasting and eternal right.

THE MAGIC OF "TOGETHER"

"'Together' is the key-word of the nineteenth century."

It is an old, adobe-walled Mexican garden. All around it, close
against the brown bricks, the fleur-de-lis stand white and stately,
guarded by their tall green lances. The sun's rays are already
powerful, though it is early spring, and I am glad to take my book
under the shade of the orange-trees. In the dark leaf-canopy above me
shine the delicate star-like flowers, the partly opened buds, and the
great golden oranges, while tiny green and half-ripe spheres make a
happy contrast in color. The ground about me is strewn with flowers
and buds, the air is heavy with fragrance, and the bees are buzzing
softly overhead. I am growing drowsy, but as I lift my eyes from my
book they meet something which interests me. A large black ant is
tugging and pulling at an orange-bud, and really making an effort to
carry it away with him. It is once and a half as long as he, fully
twice as wide, and I cannot compute how much heavier, but its size and
weight are very little regarded. He drags it vigorously over Alpine
heights and through valley deeps, but evidently finds the task
arduous, for he stops to rest now and then. I want to help him, but
cannot be sure of his destination, and fear besides that my clumsy
assistance would be misinterpreted.