habit of independent work, that is practically--how to get the will
to act. There is drudgery to be gone through, however it may be
disguised, and as a permanent acquisition the power of going through it
is one of the most lasting educational results that can be looked for.
Drudgery is labour with toil and fatigue. It is the long penitential
exercise of the whole human race, not limited to one class or
occupation, but accompanying every work of man from the lowest
mechanical factory hand or domestic "drudge" up to the Sovereign
Pontiff, who has to spend so many hours in merely receiving,
encouraging, blessing, and dismissing the unending processions of his
people as they pass before him, imparting to them graces of which he can
never see the fruit, and then returning to longer hours of listening to
complaints and hearing of troubles which often admit of no remedy: truly
a life of labour with toil and fatigue, in comparison with which most
lives are easy, though each has to bear in its measure the same stamp.
Pius X has borne the yoke of labour from his youth. His predecessor took
it up with an enthusiasm that burned within him, and accepted training
in a service where the drudgery is as severe though generally kept out
of sight. The acceptance of it is the great matter, whatever may be the
form it takes.

Spurs and bait, punishment and reward, have been used from time
immemorial to set the will in motion, and the results have been
variable--no one has appeared to be thoroughly satisfied with either, or
even with a combination of the two. Some authorities have stood on an
eminence, and said that neither punishment nor reward should be used,
that knowledge should be loved for its own sake. But if it was not
loved, after many invitations, the problem remained. As usual the real
solution seems to be attainable only by one who really loves both
knowledge and children, or one who loves knowledge and can love
children, as Vittorino da Feltre loved them both, and also Blessed
Thomas More. These two affections mingled together produce great
educators--great in the proportion in which the two are possessed--as
either one or the other declines the educational power diminishes, till
it dwindles down to offer trained substitutes and presentable
mediocrities for living teachers. The fundamental principle reasserts
itself, that "love feels no labour, or if it does it loves the labour."

Here is one of our Catholic secrets of strengt