One of the great differences between childhood and manhood is that we come to like our work more than our play. It becomes to us, if not the chief pleasure, at least the chief interest of our lives, and even when it is not this, an essential condition of our happiness. … One of the first conditions of a happy life is that it should be a full and busy one. … An ideal life would be furnished with abundant work of a kind that is congenial both to our intellects and our characters, and that brings with it much interest and little anxiety. Few of us can command this. Most men's work is largely determined for them by circumstances, though in the guidance of life there are many alternatives and much room for skilful pilotage. But the first great rule is that we must do something, that life must have a purpose and an aim, that work should be not merely occasional and spasmodic, but steady and continuous. Pleasure is a jewel which will only retain its lustre when it is in a setting of work, and a vacant life is one of the worst of pains, though the islands of leisure that stand in a crowded, well-occupied life may be among the things to which we look back with the greatest delight."[1]
Happiness, we conclude, is the union and harmony of duty and pleasure in a well-organised life. The perfectly duteous life will be the perfectly pleasant one. All its duties will be self-imposed and willingly performed, and its leisure and relaxation will be in harmony with its comprehensive aims and aspirations.
§ 2. The Choice of Vocation. It will, no doubt,
- ↑ Lecky: The Map of Life, pp. 19-21.
