It is as necessary for us all to work as it is to breathe.
Nothing exists in the natural world without its special office or duty;
and surely, in the world of man, no one can live without occupation.
Lack of sufficiently worthy work is one of the crying evils of our
day, among both boys and girls. Every thing is done to make labor less,
or to turn it completely into pleasure,--to shirk it, or to scorn it.
The sewing-machine has made the good sewer a phenomenon. Our
grandmothers used to rip their dresses and linings with sharp scissors:
a good jump from a carriage will send us right out of a modern costume.
Teachers learn the lessons now, and the pupils take notes and cram once
in a while. Text-books have gone out of fashion. The next generation
will not see any antique furniture: it will all lie in a hopelessly
unglued state, separated into its elements. There will not be any china
tea-sets,--all broken in the last dish-washing. There may be a few
books in loose bindings and faded covers, and a few works of art in
frames that furnace-heat has set sadly awry. There will be a plenty
of fine machines.
Mr. Froude tells us, "When the magnificent Earl of Essex was sent to
Cambridge, in Elizabeth's time, his guardian provided him with a deal
table covered with green baize, a truckle-bed, half a dozen chairs,
and a wash hand-basin. The cost of all was five pounds.
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