regnably,
obstinately his brother, by piling up huge happy citadels of good-will,
of services rendered, services deserved, and services returned. We had
an idea once that the way to conquer a man was by hitting the outside of
him. We conquer men now by getting inside of them, and by getting inside
first and then dealing with outside things together.

We see the inside. It is the modern note to see the inside, to attack
the essence, the spirit, and to work everything out from that.

The modern method of being courageous and of defending what we want is a
kind of chemistry.

Hercules is a bust now.

We prefer still little women like Madame Curie, or a man like Sir Joseph
Lister, or like Wilbur Wright--the courage that faces material facts,
that deals with the elements of things, whether in a bottle, or in the
heaven above us, or in the earth, or in a man, or in an enemy.

When the subject-matter is human nature and the courage we have to have
is the courage that can deal with people, we ask ourselves: "What are
the most difficult facts to face in people?"

They are:

The facts about how they are different from us. The facts
about their being like us. The facts as to what we can do
about it.

So it has come to seem to me to be the greatest, the most typical and
difficult courage of modern life and of a crowd civilization, the
courage to look at actual facts in people and to see how the people can
be made to go together.

A man's courage is his sense of identity.

A man's courage toward nature, heat, cold, mountains, seas, deserts,
chemistry, geology, is his sense of identity with God and of his right
to share with God in the creating of His world.

His courage toward people is his sense of identity with men who seem
different from him, of all races, all classes, and all nations. He sees
the differences in their big relations alongside the resemblances. Then
he fits the differences into the resemblances and knows what to do.

There is a statue of Sir George Livesey, one of the early presidents of
the South Metropolitan Gas Company, placed at the entrance of the works
where thousands of workmen day and night pass in and pass out.

Sir George Livesey was the man who, in the early days of the South
Metropolitan Gas Company, stood out against all his workmen, for six
long weeks, to get the workmen to believe that they were as good as he
was. He believed that they were capable, or should be capable, o