lest; their meaning
prompt, but small, ephemeral. Commend me to the silent English,
to the silent Romans. Nay, the silent Russians too I believe to
be worth something: are they not even now drilling, under much
obloquy, an immense semi-barbarous half-world from Finland to
Kamtschatka, into rule, subordination, civilisation,--really in
an old Roman fashion; speaking no word about it; quietly hearing
all manner of vituperative Able Editors speak! While your ever-
talking, ever-gesticulating French, for example, what are they at
this moment drilling?--Nay, of all animals, the freest of
utterance, I should judge, is the genus Simia:_ go into the
Indian woods, say all Travelers, and look what a brisk, adroit,
unresting Ape-population it is!

The spoken Word, the written Poem, is said to be an epitome of
the man; how much more the done Work. Whatsoever of morality
and of intelligence; what of patience, perseverance,
faithfulness, of method, insight, ingenuity, energy; in a word,
whatsoever of Strength the man had in him will lie written in the
Work he does. To work: why, it is to try himself against
Nature, and her everlasting unerring Laws; these will tell a
true verdict as to the man. So much of virtue and of faculty did
_we_ find in him; so much and no more! He had such capacity of
harmonising himself with _me_ and my unalterable ever-veracious
Laws; of cooperating and working as _I_ bade him;--and has
prospered, and has not prospered, as you see!--Working as great
Nature bade him: does not that mean virtue of a kind; nay, of
all kinds? Cotton can be spun and sold, Lancashire operatives
can be got to spin it, and at length one has the woven webs and
sells them, by following Nature's regulations in that matter: by
not following Nature's regulations, you have them not. You have
them not;--there is no Cotton-web to sell: Nature finds a bill
against you; your 'Strength' is not Strength, but Futility! Let
faculty be honoured, so far as it is faculty. A man that can
succeed in working is to me always a man.

How one loves to see the burly figure of him, this thick-skinned,
seemingly opaque, perhaps sulky, almost stupid Man of Practice,
pitted against some light--adroit Man of Theory, all equipt with
clear logic, and able anywhere to give you Why for Wherefore! The
adroit Man of Theory, so light of movement, clear of utterance,
with his bow full-bent and quiver full of arrow-arguments,--
surely h