go to support it; and the diversion of power often leaves great defects
in other parts of the character, as for example, a low order of the
sensibilities, and a narrow range of sympathies. The men of
extraordinary vigour and activity--our Roman emperors and conquering
heroes--are often brutal and coarse. Nature does not supply power
profusely on all sides; and delicate sympathies, of themselves, use up
a very large fraction of the forces of the organisation. Even
intellectually estimated, the power of sympathising with many various
minds and conditions would occupy as much room in the brain as a
language, or an accomplishment. A man both energetic and sympathetic--a
Pericles, a King Alfred, an Oliver Cromwell--is one of nature's giants,
several men in one.

There is no more notable phase of our active nature than Courage. Great
energy generally implies great courage, and courage--at least in
nine-tenths of its amount--comes by nature. To exhort any one to be
courageous is waste of words. We may animate, for the time, a naturally
timid person, by explaining away the signs of danger, and by assuming a
confident attitude ourselves; but the absolute force of courage is what
neither we nor the man himself can add to. A long and careful education
might effect a slight increase in this, as in other aspects of energy of
character: we can hardly say how much, because it is a matter that is
scarcely ever subjected to the trial; the very conditions of the
experiment have not been thought of.

The moral qualities expressed by Prudence, Forethought, Circumspection,
are talked of with a like insufficient estimate of what they cost. Great
are the rewards of prudence, but great also is the expenditure of the
prudent man. To retain an abiding sense of all the possible evils, risks
and contingencies of an ordinary man's position--professional, family,