But it is generally said, that it would be ridiculous if we, men of our stamp, with deep philosophical, scientific, political, artistic, ecclesiastical, social questions before us, we, state ministers, senators, academists, professors, artists, singers, we, whose quarter-hours are valued so highly by men, should spend our time in doing--what? Cleaning our boots, washing our shirts, digging, planting potatoes, or feeding our chickens and cows, and so on,--in business which not only our house-porter, or our cook, but thousands of men besides who value our time, would be very glad to do for us. But why do we dress, wash, and comb our hair ourselves? Why do we walk, hand chairs to ladies, to our guests, open and shut the door, help people into carriages, and perform hundreds of actions which were formerly performed for us by our slaves? Because we consider that such may be done by ourselves; that they are compatible with human dignity; that is, human duty. The same holds good with physical labour. Man's dignity, his sacred duty, is to use his hands, his feet, for the purpose for which they were given him, to spend the swallowed food in work, which produces the food, and not to be wasted by disuse, not merely that he may wash and clean them and use them only for the purpose of stuffing food and cigarettes into his mouth. Such is the meaning of physical labour for every man in every society. But in our class, with the divergence from this law of nature came the misery of a whole circle of men; and for us, physical labour receives another meaning,--the meaning of a preaching and a propaganda which divert the terrible evil which threatens mankind. To say that for an educated man, physical labour is a trifling occupation, is the same as to say, in the building of a temple, "What importance can there be in putting each stone exactly in its place?" Every great act is done under the conditions of quietness, modesty, and simplicity. One can neither plough, nor feed cattle, nor think, during a great illumination, or amid thundering of guns, nor while in uniform. Illumination, the roar of cannon, music, uniforms, cleanliness, brilliancy, which we usually connect with the idea of the importance of any act, are, on the contrary, tokens of the absence of importance in that act. Great, true deeds are always simple and modest. Such is also the greatest deed which is left to us to do,--the solution of those awful contradictions in which we are living. The acts which solve these contradictions are modest, imperceptible, seemingly ridiculous acts, such as helping ourselves by physical labour, and, if possible, helping others too: this is what we rich people have to do, if we understand the misery, wrong, and danger of the position in which we live.