The doctor went to the baggage-room in the gray dawn to get that precautionary trunk checked: after a long discussion about the place, he arranged to meet the family at the railway news-stand. The caretaker was shown once more how to work the burglar alarm, from which a necessary knob came off in the nervous hand of the Master of Cares-" telephone for the electrician "; but at last the blinds were carefully pulled down, the house shut up and committed to Providence and the caretaker, and the family and its familiars arrived at the station nearly an hour before train-time, "getting off so nicely."

The Genius of Forethought sent out a pair of scouts to find the doctor. They returned, to report that there were three news-stands, but the doctor was not at any of them.

Then this Genius of Care went himself with one of the scouts, a long and hurried walk to the baggage-room,-not there.

Meanwhile, the doctor, who had stayed to see the trunks off, had found the main body with its camp-followers and light baggage. All stood in the station near a news-stand and waited for the return of the expedition, till the doctor got impatient as train-time approached and went off to find the Head of the House, who arrived in a flurry, having lost his own head a few minutes after he had gone with the tickets.

At last, after the pilgrimage from the ticketgate down to the parlor-car, they are in the train, all safe, thank God; but the Genius of Care did not sleep that night" on account of the worry and fuss of getting off." That was not the doctor's fault. Like Martha, he had made his own punishment the same as the rest of us by being" careful about many things."

I remember an Irish servant who was shown one of our big banks with its huge window-bars, to make it safe. "Sure," she said, "what's the good of them things? The thieves is inside and not out."

Worry is inside and not out, and Sleep, like the Kingdom of Heaven, is not taken by force.

CHAPTER XLIV

REST IN TRUTH

The timely dew of sleep.

MILTON.

T is not our work that wears us, but the way

IT

we take it. So long as we think of rest as meaning only inactivity, just so long will the activities of life exhaust us. Goethe said:

"Rest is not quitting the busy career,

Rest is fitting oneself for one's sphere."

When we do that, we find rest. But we may ask what is one's sphere and how may one fit one's self for it? If we wish to answer that truly, we must be willing to have some common misconceptions brushed away. The sphere of any individual is limited only by the possibilities of his own body, mind, and spirit. Our sphere is not a small circle of activities whose boundaries any man may mark. It widens as our inner nature expands, and what was the horizon line yesterday will be but a tiny hillock near at hand to-morrow. It includes all that has been achieved, and all that may be attained by the race.

The best standard of our life is not only what the race as a whole has achieved in the way of development, but the highest and best that any person has yet taught or lived; this is the true measure of man's sphere to-day. Ordinarily, we talk of man's sphere and woman's sphere as if there were a clear line of separation between them, and each were continued in its own little space. This could not be, for, so long as men and women have the same three naturesbodily, mental, spiritual-so long as we have similar needs, aims, and aspirations, the larger sphere of man, whether male or female, is the same, and is bounded only by the possibilities of the life of all three natures.

To fit one's self for such a sphere should bring rest while we are doing it, because that fitting means becoming harmonious with the purposes of the larger life; and rest is simply harmony, at-one-ness with the Uni

verse.

The possibilities of the life of all three natures are inexhaustible. We have never touched the limit of even the physical man. Man at one time had only his hands for tools, and so was limited in his powers. But he used his mind to increase the power of his hands, and reached out for sticks and stones to help him. In time his thought devised implements that increased his physical power a thousandfold, until now he has harnessed not only steam, but

the very currents of the air, and is making himself all-powerful.

He does not wholly understand the forces he tries to control, but he studies them, experiments upon them, and makes servants of them as far as he has grasped their laws. Had he insisted upon considering his mind and his physical powers as entirely separate and refused to use them together, he might still have claws for hands, and might still be a mere burrower in the earth. Moreover, his mind would not have developed as it has. Steam and electricity might have aroused his curiosity, but he would not have known how to make them to do his will.

Further, if man had been able to keep his intellect apart from his spirit, he would not have developed the qualities that lift him above the more intelligent animals. Sympathy and justice and love would not have come into his relations with his fellow-men.

These moral feelings expressed in our bodies, our minds, and our hearts are some of the possibilities of the life of all three natures, and to endeavor to know and harmonize them, thus "fitting one's self for one's sphere," would bring us the happiness that follows action and the rest that flows from selfless purpose or harmony.

If we consider what the true object of life is, we cannot help trying to see the connection