“It is what men do that lives after them. There is an earthly side to immortality. The deeds done in the flesh make an epitaph which cannot deceive.” Determinants (1921) Two trees grow together on the same hillside. They draw their sustenance from the same soil, yet each has its own peculiar bark, leaf, and fruit. Both exude gum, yet one gum contains arabic acid while the other contains none. The difference is not in the food they consume nor the environment in which they grow. It is in some hidden fact which determines the nature of each. Two animals feed in the same pasture. They eat the same food and graze upon the same kind of grass. Yet one is covered with hair and the other with wool. The difference is not in the material of which their coats are made. It is in some unseen force which determines their natures. Two human beings grow up together in the same home. They eat together from the same food at the same table. They have the same parental guidance. They enjoy the same physical and social environment. Yet one becomes a good man and the other a bad one. The same sustaining properties have entered into their making, but in one they bring forth good fruit, while in the other they bring forth evil fruit. No tree ever violates the dictates of that hidden force. Its fruitage never varies. One could not change its output unless he could first change its nature. Men do not gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles. Fortunately, however, this rule does not hold in the case of men. The nature of a man can be altered or reversed. This can be done because it is possible to change the heart, and from the heart are the issues of life. Nothing can change the determinant in a tree, but there is a power that can change it in a life. This is because a man has a will, while a tree has none. It is the power of the will to resist or submit. Love’s Burdens (1921) A little boy sat in a wheel chair. The hand of Fate had already rested heavily upon his tender years. A paralysis had laid hold upon him and had left him as helpless as an infant. His drawn lips could not speak. His eyes could not keep themselves focussed upon any object. Only one thing about him remained normal. His mind continued to function. He knew, felt, joyed, desired, and suffered. In some unfeeling, intellectually ideal republic, such a pitiful piece of human wreckage might have been cast upon the junk heap. It was so done in the old day, and so it would be done again if a certain type of statesman might have his pitiless way. Utopias too seldom make proper allowance for such poor unfortunates. They cannot produce anything. They are necessarily a care and a burden to others. They are worth nothing in money to society. They are not social assets. They are social liabilities.