and conceals-makes traps and ambuscades, seeks to lead his opponent into dangers which he himself would never dare to face is despicable, serpentine, and contemptible. But he who stands up boldly against his antagonist in any conflict, physical, social, or spiritual, and deals fair blows, and uses honest arguments, and faces the issues of warfare, is a man to love even across the chasm of strife. An outspoken infidel is far nobler than a disguised skeptic. A brave, frank, manly foe is infinitely better than a false, weak, timorous friend.

The literature of courage has always been immensely popular, and the history of the brave is written in letters of gold. It is this that men have loved to read in the strange, confused annals of war, deeds of self-forgetful daring which leap from the smoke and clamour of battle, and shine in the sudden making of splendid names. It is the quality which levels youth with age, gives to woman the force of manhood, equalizes the peasant with the noble, and consumes all outward distinctions in the flame of glory. The boy Casabianca keeping the solitary deck of the burning vessel rather than disobey his

father's commands; the brave Lady Douglas thrusting her tender arm through the staple of the door to defend her king from the assassin; Leonidas at Thermopyla, and Horatius at the bridge, and the Six Hundred at Balaklava; old Cranmer bathing his hands in fire at the martyr's stake, and young Stephen praying fearlessly for his murderers; Florence Nightingale facing fever in Crimean hospitals; Father Damien braving leprosy in the Islands of the Sea; young men and maidens, old men and matrons, fighting, suffering, achieving, resisting, enduring, daring, living, and dying—it is the spark of heroism that kindles their names into the blaze of light, for everywhere and always courage is an honourable virtue.

In the second place, courage is a serviceable virtue. There is hardly any place in which it is not useful. There is no type of character, no sphere of action, in which there is not room and need for it.

Genius is talent set on fire by courage. Fidelity is simply daring to be true in small things as well as great. As many as are the conflicts and perils and hardships of life, so many are the uses and the forms of cour

age. It is necessary, indeed, as the protector and defender of all the other virtues. Courage is the standing army of the soul which keeps it from conquest, pillage, and slavery.

Unless we are brave we can hardly be truthful, or generous, or just, or pure, or kind, or loyal. "Few persons," says a wise observer, "have the courage to appear as good as they really are." You must be brave in order to fulfil your own possibilities of virtue. Courage is essential to guard the best qualities of the soul, and to clear the way for their action, and make them move with freedom and vigour.

"Courage, the highest gift, that scorns to bend

To mean devices for a sordid end;

Courage, an independent spark from Heaven's throne, By which the soul stands raised, triumphant, high, alone; The spring of all true acts is seated here,

As falsehoods draw their sordid birth from fear."

If we desire to be good, we must first of all desire to be brave, that against all opposition, scorn, and danger we may move straight onward to do the right.

In the third place, courage is a comfortable virtue. It fills the soul with inward peace and strength; in fact this is just what

it is, courage is simply strength of heart. Subjection to fear is weakness, bondage, feverish unrest. To be afraid is to have no soul that we can call our own; it is to be at the beck and call of alien powers, to be chained and driven and tormented; it is to lose the life itself in the anxious care to keep it. Many people are so afraid to die that they have never begun to live. But courage emancipates us and gives us to ourselves, that we may give ourselves freely and without fear to God. How sweet and clear and steady is the life into which this virtue enters day by day, not merely in those great flashes of excitement which come in the moments of crisis, but in the presence of the hourly perils, the continual conflicts. Not to tremble at the shadows which surround us, not to shrink from the foes who threaten us, not to hesitate and falter and stand despairing still among the perplexities and trials of our life, but to move steadily onward without fear, if only we can keep ourselves without reproach,surely that is what the Psalmist meant by good courage and strength of heart, and it is a most comfortable, pleasant, peaceful, and happy virtue.

Let us talk together for a while about this virtue and consider what we mean by it, how we can obtain it, and what good it will do us.

I. First of all, let us try to understand the difference between courage and some of the things which are often mistaken for it.

There is a sharp distinction between courage and recklessness. The reckless man is ignorant; he rushes into danger without hesitation, simply because he does not know what danger means. The brave man is intelligent; he faces danger because he understands it and is prepared to meet it. The drunkard who runs, in the delirium of intoxication, into a burning house is not brave; he is only stupid. But the clear-eyed hero who makes his way, with every sense alert and every nerve strung, into the hell of flames to rescue some little child, proves his courage.

The more keenly we are awake to the perils of life, the higher and grander is the possibility of being truly brave. To drift along, as some people do, through this world of sin, as if there were nothing in it to fear; to slide easily downward, as some