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There is an old story of a Grecian sculptor, who, charged with adorning a lofty temple, was chided by his employers because he fashioned the upper surface of the capitals which surrounded his pillars with the same exquisite workmanship and elaborate care which he bestowed on the carving within reach of every visitor who might stand on the pavement. They said to him, “Why do you waste your skill where no human eye can ever behold it? Only the birds of the air can rest in such a place.” The sculptor raised his eyes, lifted for a moment his chisel from the stone, and replied, “The gods will see it,” and resumed his task.
We should learn a lesson from the old heathen artist. We should do our work just as honestly where it will be covered up and never seen by human eyes, as where it is to be open to the scrutiny of the world, for God will see it. We should live just as purely and beautifully in secret as in the glare of the world’s noon. There really is no such thing as secrecy in this world. We fancy that no eye is looking when we are not in the presence of men; but really we always have spectators, – we are living all our life in the presence of angels and of God himself. We should train ourselves, therefore, to work for the divine eye in all that we do, that our work may stand the divine inspection, and that we may have the approval and commendation of God.