be sick unto death; while another who cares little for law or duty may live on in comparative health.

But, "other things being equal," both health and happiness are in exact proportion to goodness.

"The good boy does n't know how to have fun"? I tell you he is the only one who does know how to have it. Compare his cheek ruddy, his eye bright, his laugh loud and ringing, his pulses bounding, from his faithful obedience to nature's laws; his brow open and unclouded, his heart loving, light, and hopeful, from his obedience to the law of right, compare these with the cheek pallid, the eye listless, the blood vitiated and sluggish, from nature's laws violated; the heart heavy, filled with dull, aching discontent, from the ever-living sense of wrongs done in the past and unrepented in the present, -compare all these, I say, and then judge who it is that "knows how to have fun."

VIII.

CLEVERNESS AND COURAGE.

Helen Sawyer. Dr. Dix, I think we are all convinced that in reality the intelligence, power, and courage of the world are on the side of virtue rather than vice; and yet it seems to me that it is very common for even older people than we are to look upon good people as rather slow and uninteresting, and upon bad people — at least somewhat bad people

as

Dr. Dix. As fast and interesting?

as

Helen Sawyer. As more clever, and enterprising, and courageous, and all that.

Το

Dr. Dix. Among many unthinking people no doubt such an impression prevails, — only, however, among those who know very little of what real goodness is. If there is any cause for it, aside from perversity of heart and judgment, it must consist in certain advantages which the unscrupulous possess over those who are restrained by their sense of right and wrong. illustrate: Witty things may be said on certain occasions which would be wrong on account of their unkindness, irreverence, impropriety, or perhaps their profanity. A good man would not say them even if they came unbidden into his mind; a bad man would. There are persons who cannot be witty or brilliant without being at the same time cruel, immodest, or profane. A very cheap kind of wit and brilliancy, is it not?

Again, keen, shrewd, brilliant acts may be performed which would be wrong on account of their unkindness or positive dishonesty. A good man would not perform them, not because he lacks the shrewdness or the bril

liancy, he may possess these qualities or he may not; a bad man would not hesitate, if he thought of them, and thus he might gain a reputation for "smartness" and enterprise which his honest, honorable neighbor must needs forego. Scholars, do you know any such. clever men in public or in private life? Do you envy the reputation they have gained? How do you suppose they are regarded in the secret hearts even of those who profess to admire them? With contempt, - yes, even by those who applaud the loudest. Many and many a time I have seen men laughing at the wicked drollery or cunning of some smart buffoon or scapegrace. Did he fondly imagine that he was winning their real admiration? Perhaps he did not care, so long as he won their noisy applause; but the fact is, there was not one of them who did not despise him in his inmost heart, not one of them who would not feel degraded by having him at his own table or fireside.

Archibald Watson.

feel so, would they?

Those of his own kind would n't

Dr. Dix. I believe that even those of his own kind, congenial spirits, would, way down deep, feel a contempt for him, as well as for themselves for being of his kind. There is implanted somewhere in every human heart an unconquerable contempt for evil and admiration for good. Few men are so abandoned that they do not honestly wish their children to follow a path different from their own. There are times in the lives of all bad men when this inner sense awakens, and they feel the impulse to escape from their degradation; to be something like the good and the noble, whom they cannot but admire. In this inner sense, which, I believe, never utterly dies, lies the germ of hope for every living soul.

For a reason similar to that I have given, another common impression among the unthinking is that the good are apt to be wanting in hardy courage. A bad man will fight—sometimes, not always—when a good

man will not simply because his conscience will not let him. Fighting, as a test of courage, is apt to be greatly overestimated. There are few men, either good or bad, who cannot or will not fight on occasion. The whole human race has descended from a fighting ancestry. Every war has demonstrated this fact; and how the best compare with the worst, when the occasion renders fighting necessary and therefore justifiable, the story of the New York regiment to which I have already alluded most strikingly illustrates. When fighting is neither necessary nor right, it generally requires more real courage to resist the impulse to fight than to yield to it, inasmuch as it is harder for most men to endure ridicule, the suspicion of cowardice, or the smarting sense of wrong unavenged, than to endure physical pain and danger. This is not always true, of course. We must admit that there are some physical cowards who refuse to fight, not because they think it wrong, but because they are afraid of the bullet, or, among the more vulgar, of the bloody nose. That is a kind of peaceableness which is not goodness. It is even worse than the combativeness of the wicked man; for physical courage is a virtue, one of a low order, it is true, when unattended by other virtues, one which we share with the brute creation, but still a virtue, whereas cowardice, whether physical or moral, is not only no virtue, but one of the most justly despised of all despicable traits.

If, then, there is a boy among you who, on being insulted, refuses to fight, before you stigmatize him as a coward, satisfy yourselves why he refuses. If it is because it is against his conscience, admire him, honor him, crown him with the olive wreath of a victor; for he is a conqueror of the most heroic type, he is greater than one that taketh a city. If, on the other hand, it is certain but how can you know? that it is only because he is afraid of a black eye or a bloody nose, why, then you are at liberty to despise him, or rather

his cowardice, a little more even than you despise the cowardice of the bully who insulted him.

Charles Fox. Why do you say cowardice of the bully who insulted him?

Dr. Dix. Because a bully is almost always a coward. In the case supposed he is certain to be one. It requires not even physical courage to insult one who will not resent the insult.

Now, boys, don't look so complacently warlike. I have not been pronouncing or even hinting a eulogy upon the "manly art." I said distinctly that the good boy will not fight unless he is absolutely compelled; but it is n't because he is afraid to fight: the only thing he is afraid of is wrong. And, girls, don't look so indifferent and uninterested. There are more ways of fighting than with the fists - there are other wounds than those of the body. Good people are generally terribly shocked at a desperate set-to between two fiery-tempered, brawny-armed fellows, their eyes glaring, their breasts heaving, their muscles straining, their blood, perhaps, flowing. And well they may be shocked, — it is a disgraceful scene, worthy only of game-cocks and bull-dogs, a scene that rational beings should be ashamed of, as they would be ashamed of wallowing in the mud, grubbing their food out of the gutter, or of any other act of pure bestiality. But, brutal as it is, and disgusting to all persons of true refinement, there are other ways of fighting that do not bring into play even the virtues of brute courage and fortitude, ways meaner and more contemptible, if less brutish. Better be brutish than fiendish.

Helen Mar. Are those the ways girls fight?

Dr. Dix [joining in the general laughter]. Did I seem to imply that? If I did, I most sincerely beg your pardon. Those ways of fighting are not confined to any sex, class, or age. I am happy to believe we have as little of them in this school as in any civilized community of equal number.