There must be, I admit, those who can flow and be at
one with that life, too. And let them handle their money, and make
shoes, and sew garments, and write in ledgers--if that completes and
contents them. I have no quarrel with any one of them. It is, after all,
a big and various world, where men can be happy in many ways.
For every man is a magnet, highly and singularly sensitized. Some draw
to them fields and woods and hills, and are drawn in return; and some
draw swift streets and the riches which are known to cities. It is not
of importance what we draw, but that we really draw. And the greatest
tragedy in life, as I see it, is that thousands of men and women never
have the opportunity to draw with freedom; but they exist in weariness
and labour, and are drawn upon like inanimate objects by those who live
in unhappy idleness. They do not farm: they are farmed. But that is a
question foreign to present considerations. We may be assured, if we
draw freely, like the magnet of steel which gathers its iron filings
about it in beautiful and symmetrical forms, that the things which we
attract will also become symmetrical and harmonious with our lives.
Thus flowing with life, self-surrendering to life a man becomes
indispensable to life, he is absolutely necessary to the conduct of
this universe.
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