In the far off end to which evolution tends, civilization
will doubtless reach the point where every human being may have his
solid month of play, repose, and recuperation--though this cannot be, of
course, while nation competes with nation. A universal industrial
agreement alone can compass that happy end. And do we not here
perceive, afar off, one of the vast and glorious tasks for the statesmen
of the future?
Meanwhile, if every man may not have an entire season of holiday, he
may have every day his hour of fun and rest. For every man that, at
least, is possible. And, too, he whom necessity drives hardest
owns--absolutely owns--for himself one day in seven. Not so bad after
all, is it? Not the ideal condition, but still quite tolerable.
Fifty-two days in three hundred and sixty-five, nearly two months in
the year, already given every man by the usage of our Christian
civilization for the purpose of "rest from all his work"; and with
divine example encouraging and instructing him in its use.
A man can get along on these two months distributed at the intervals
of one in every seven days. He can get along, that is, if he really
rests--really gives himself up to the sane joy of normal repose.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41