No other word is more disliked by the slothful than the word Duty. The mention of the word itself causes weariness to a boy or man of that kind. We can only get to like the word and the thing itself by accustoming ourselves to perform it regularly, a little at a time. A boy or girl with a fine ear and a natural talent for music hates, at first, the daily practising and the uninteresting lessons; but, as soon as the difficulties are mastered, playing an instrument becomes a delight. Duty, in itself, is not a distasteful thing; it is because we hate anything which gives us trouble that it seems unbearable. We can teach ourselves to like taking pains. Duty is, in one sense, the great law which governs the universe. The planets revolving about the sun, the moon encircling the earth, even the erratic comets, in fulfilling the laws of their being, perform the duties which they are set. So, too, the plants and animals of the lower creation obey the laws under which they live. Even of inanimate things, pieces of human mechanism, may this be said. The pendulum of the clock will tick until it is worn out, if it receive the care necessary for its work. We see what wonderful things a machine can be made to do for man in Edison's marvellous inventions of the kinetoscope and the kinetograph. Human duties differ from those of the lower creation and of the inanimate world in this, that in the latter the duties are performed by virtue of the great law of necessity, whereas man is free. That is what makes human duties moral--that is where the _ought_ comes in. If we love idleness, and most of us do at first, we naturally hate the idea of Duty. If we give way to our feelings and desires, we shall only hate Duty more intensely, and we are in danger of becoming not much better than the brutes around us; in fact, we are giving way to the brute part of our nature. Human nature differs from brute nature in having a Conscience, which continually whispers in our hearts, "I must not," and "I ought." It is our first duty to listen to Conscience. The longer we practise doing duties the easier they become. A great man once said: "A man shall carry a bucket of water on his head and be very tired with the burden; but that same man, when he dives into the sea, shall have the weight of a thousand buckets on his head without perceiving their weight, because he is in the element, and it entirely surrounds him." After running two miles for the first time, a boy feels great stiffness, but after he has done it twenty times he feels nothing but the pleasure of good health arising from pleasant exercise. In the same way, he translates a single sentence in his Latin grammar with great difficulty at first, but when he can translate Cæsar's campaigns without trouble the task becomes a delight.