labor. We are miserable with inaction. We perish of rest and rust:
but we do not like your work.'

'Then,' says the world, 'show me your own.'

'We have none.'

'What will you do, then?' cries the world.

'We will wait.'

'How long?'

'Until the Universe beckons and calls us to work.'

'But whilst you wait you grow old and useless.'

'Be it so: I can sit in a corner and _perish_ (as you call it), but
I will not move until I have the highest command.'"

And so the dissatisfied tenant of this unhappy creation goes on with his
reasons for doing nothing.

It is easy to stay away from church and from town-meetings. It is
easy to keep out of the way of the contribution box and to let the
subscription paper go by us to the next door. The common duties of life
and the good offices society asks of us may be left to take care of
themselves while we contemplate the infinite. There is no safer fortress
for indolence than "the Everlasting No." The chimney-corner is the true
arena for this class of philosophers, and the pipe and mug furnish their