The Ocala banner. (Ocala, Marion County, Fla.) 1883-194?, 1911-08-11


duke thinking of his workmen only
as human machines to care for his
lawns. But you could imagine a no.
bier soul interested in his gardeners
more than in his garden, anxious that
the garden should be made beautiful
in order that the gardeners and their
families might live happily and de-
velop spiritually amid beautiful sur
roundings.
The man is dull-minded who doubts
that the great power of law and JUS
tice that rules this universe and main
tains in perpetual equilibrium and
warm sunlight our little planet has
failed to plan and provide for the
fullest development of the spark of
comic consciousness called soul,
which is in each of us the main
spring.
The wonderful earth, born in heat
and fire, changing geologically
through long millions of years, be-
coming more beautiful with each sue
ceeding age, is ultimately to be an
ideal home, perfect and beautiful
Who can doubt that that is to be the
history of this planet?
A race of men born in ignorance,
passing through hundreds of thous-
ands of years of suffering, struggling,
| poverty, ferocious combat, famine
and disease, are ultimately to attain
civilization, high knowledge, true
brotherhood, to live happily on this
planet for millions of years, with the
dreadful past forgotten. Who can
doubt that that is to be the future of
the human race?
The race will become beautiful and
perfect in identifying and perfecting
| the planet. The human gardener will
improve as his work improves. He
will become worthy of the beauty and
harmony that surround him in infinite
space. Such is the hope of men as
race.
Thus man thinks of himself as a
drop in the ocean of humanity. But
apart from that thought there is
constant study of the individual by
the individual, man seeking to know
himself.
1t is this self-study, self-questioning
and self-reproach that push the world
along, lifting up the race by lifting
up the atoms that compose it.
The little child in the doorway on
the poor street looks in wonder at
the face of the old man, furrowed, sad
and discouraged.
The old man, whose questioning
and striving with fate has been an
swered by failure, looks down upon
the little child, and in that child's
face and hopefulness and helpless:
ness finds partial answer to at least
to the question.
He knows that his own life need
not be a failure in reality, although
it has failed on the surface.
He knows that to protect one such
child. to give an hours happiness or
1 save it from a day of suffering, is
alone worth while.
His clothes are torn, his shoes are
worn, his face is sad with the disap-
pointments and mistakes OF many
years.
He looks at the child, whose face
is page with no line written upon
it, whose eyes reflect the wonders
and all the beauty of truth and inno-
cence, and looking at the child he is
able to answer the question, saying
to himself:
Il am here to help others, to use
power wisely if it comes, and to en-
dure poverty if it must come. l am
here to think not of myself but Of
others, to- think of children such as
this and help them and protect them
What are we here for?
We are here to find our work and
do it, to realize our duty and do it,
and to put ahead of all other consid-
erations and things the needs of the
weak and the poor.