All true work is sacred; in all true hand-labor, there is something of divineness. Labor, wide as the earth, has its summit in Heaven. Sweat of the brow; and up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart; which includes all Kepler's calculations, Newton's meditations, all sciences, all spoken epics, all acted heroism, martyrdoms--up to that "Agony of bloody sweat," which all men have called divine! Oh, brother, if this is not "worship," then, I say, the more pity for worship; for this is the noblest thing yet discovered under God's sky! Who art thou that complainest of thy life of toil? Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother; see thy fellow-workmen there, in God's Eternity; surviving there, they alone surviving; sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Body-guard of the Empire of Mind. Even in the weak human memory they survive so long, as saints, as heroes, as gods; they alone surviving; peopling the immeasured solitudes of Time! To thee Heaven, though severe, is not unkind; Heaven is kind--as a noble mother; as that Spartan mother, saying, while she gave her son his shield, "With it, my son, or upon it!" Thou, too, shalt return home, in honor to thy far-distant home, doubt it not--if in the battle thou keep thy shield. WHAT'S HALLOWED GROUND? THOMAS CAMPBELL What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod Its Maker meant not should be trod By man, the image of his God, Erect and free, Unscourged by superstition's rod To bow the knee? What hallows ground where heroes sleep? 'Tis not the sculptured piles you heap, In dews that Heavens far distant weep, Their turf may bloom, Or Genii twine beneath the deep Their coral tomb. But strew his ashes to the wind, Whose sword or voice has saved mankind, And is he dead, whose glorious mind Lifts thine on high? To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die! Is't death to fall for Freedom's right? He's dead alone that lacks her light! And murder sullies, in Heaven's sight The sword he draws. What can alone ennoble fight? A noble cause. What's hallowed ground? 'Tis what gives birth To sacred thoughts in souls of worth. Peace! Independence! Truth! go forth Earth's compass round, And your high priesthood shall make earth All hallowed ground. III PATRIOTIC, HEROIC, ORATORICAL THE SEVEN GREAT ORATORS OF THE WORLD