Without work, life is worthless; it becomes a mere state of moral coma.

We do not mean merely physical work.

There is a great deal of higher work--the work of action and endurance, of trial and patience, of enterprise and philanthropy, of spreading truth and civilization, of diminishing suffering and relieving the poor, of helping the weak, and enabling them to help themselves.
"A noble heart," says Barrow, "will disdain to subsist, like a drone, upon others' labours; like a vermin to filch its food out of the public granary; or, like a shark, to prey upon the lesser fry; but it will rather outdo his private obligations to other men's care and toil, by considerable service and beneficence to the public; for there is no calling of any sort, from the sceptre to the spade, the management whereof, with any good success, any credit, any satisfaction, doth not demand much work of the head, or of the hands, or of both." Labour is not only a necessity, but it is also a pleasure.

What would otherwise be a curse, by the constitution of our physical system becomes a blessing.

Our life is a conflict with nature in some respects, but it is also a co-operation with nature in others.