the burdens of self-sustenance, but this is so faint that it is like a dim, faraway dream. When a man has thus forgotten the seed and has sought other means of growth, he loses his symmetry. He becomes gnarled and crooked. His body is filled with knots, and his limbs die before their time. This is the paralysis of nonrecognition of the generative seed. No true growth results from earth and air alone. Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word proceeding out of the mouth of God. This "word of God" is the "seed"; that is, man's real self, because it is the umbilical cord that forever connects him with the infinite fountain of supply. No growth takes place except through this "seed," this high idea of what man is. Any other idea is a reflection, and there are reflections in descending degree, until man finds himself comparing himself with his own creations--worm of the dust.

As Emerson says:

"Whilst a necessity so great caused the man to exist, his health and erectness consists in the fidelity with which he transmits influences from the vast and universal to thepoint on which his genius can act.The ends are momentary; they are vents for the currents of inward life which increases as it is spent. A man's wisdom is to know that all ends are momentary, that the best end must be superseded by a better. But there is a mischievous tendency in him to transfer his thoughts from the life to the ends, to quit his agency and rest in his acts: the tools run away with the workman, the human with the divine. I conceive a man as always spoken to from behind, and unable to