If a man loves the labour of his trade, apart from any question

Hear the words of Robert Louis Stevenson, voyager of imagination and chronicler of the human spirit: “If a man loves the labour of his trade, apart from any question of success or fame, the gods have called him.” In this utterance lies a truth older than marble temples and deeper than ocean tides: that the highest calling is not measured in reward, but in devotion, not in applause, but in love of the work itself.

To love the labour of one’s trade is to find joy not in the outcome, but in the process. The painter who delights in the stroke of the brush, the farmer who cherishes the scent of earth turned beneath his plow, the scholar who treasures the slow unraveling of thought—these are the ones whom Stevenson says are summoned by the gods. For their devotion is pure. They do not bow before success, nor chase the fleeting shadow of fame. They labor because their hearts demand it, and in this love lies their divine calling.

History gives us many witnesses to this truth. Consider Michelangelo, who spent years painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, his body broken, his eyes strained, his spirit exhausted. He did not undertake it for glory—indeed, he wrote bitterly of the pain of the task. Yet he pressed on, for his soul could not abandon the work. The labour itself was his calling, and through it he touched eternity. Fame followed, yes, but it was the byproduct, not the purpose. His example reveals the heart of Stevenson’s wisdom.

This is also seen in the life of Marie Curie, who spent long nights in a dim laboratory, stirring cauldrons of pitchblende to uncover the secrets of radioactivity. She endured poverty, hardship, even illness from her experiments. But she did not cease, for she loved the pursuit of knowledge. She was not chasing applause but obeying her calling. The gods had summoned her, and she answered by devoting herself to the labour of her science. Her discoveries, like fire stolen from Olympus, would one day illuminate the world.

Stevenson’s words cut against the vanity of our age. Too many pursue trade only for its rewards, only for the promise of wealth or the glitter of renown. But when the fire of success cools and the applause fades, they are left empty, for they never loved the work itself. True joy belongs to those who would labor even if no eye ever saw them, who would sing even if no ear ever heard them, who would write even if no one ever read their words. These are the ones who walk with the gods, for their lives are aligned with their purpose.

The deeper meaning is this: that the calling of the divine is not some thunderous voice from the heavens, but the quiet fire that burns when you do what you love. If your heart is lifted in the work itself, if the act of doing fills you with peace or passion, then you have been chosen. To ignore such a calling is to betray yourself; to follow it is to live in harmony with destiny.

So, O children of tomorrow, heed Stevenson’s counsel. Do not chase fame, do not obsess over success. Instead, search your soul for the trade whose labour fills you with joy, even when no one is watching. Give yourself wholly to it. For in that devotion lies your calling, and in answering it you will live not only as a worker of the earth, but as one touched by the breath of the gods themselves.