always with a certain poise of spirit; not forever clapping his
hand to the hilt of his sword, but preferring, rather, to play
with a subtler skill upon the springs of action. This is our
conception of the truly human man: a man in whom there is a just
balance of faculties, a catholic sympathy--no brawler, no
fanatic, no pharisee; not too credulous in hope, not too
desperate in purpose; warm, but not hasty; ardent, and full of
definite power, but not running about to be pleased and deceived
by every new thing.

It is a genial image, of men we love--an image of men warm and
true of heart, direct and unhesitating in courage, generous,
magnanimous, faithful, steadfast, capable of a deep devotion and
self-forgetfulness. But the age changes, and with it must change
our ideals of human quality. Not that we would give up what we
have loved: we would add what a new life demands. In a new age
men must acquire a new capacity, must be men upon a new scale,
and with added qualities. We shall need a new Renaissance,
ushered in by a new "humanistic" movement, in which we shall add
our present minute, introspective study of ourselves, our jails,
our slums, our nervecenters, our shifts to live, almost as morbid
as medieval religion, a rediscovery of the round world, and of
man's place in it, now that its face has changed. We study the
world, but not yet with intent to school our hearts and tastes,
broaden our natures, and know our fellow-men as comrades rather
than as phenomena; with purpose, rather, to build up bodies of
critical doctrine and provide ourselves with theses. That,
surely, is not the truly humanizing way in which to take the air
of the world. Man is much more than a "rational being," and lives
more by sympathies and impressions than by conclusions. It