erests me is to meet a person--and it is not a common
experience--who has made something of himself or herself; who began
with one set of qualities, and who has achieved another set of
qualities, by desiring them and patiently practising them; who, one is
sure, has a peculiar sympathy drawn from experience, and a wisdom
matured by conflict and effort.

As a rule, one feels that people are very much the same as they began
by being. They are awkward and have not learned to be easy; they are
dull and have not learned to be interesting; or they are clever and
have not learned to be sympathetic; or charming and have not learned to
be loyal; who are satisfied, in fact, with being what they are. But
what a delightful and reviving thing it is to meet one whose glance
betrays a sort of tenderness, a gentleness, a desire to establish a
relationship; who means to like one, if he can; whose face bears signs
of the conflict of spirit, in which selfishness and complacency have
been somehow eradicated; who understands one's clumsy hints and
interprets one's unexpressed feelings; who goes about, one knows,
looking out for beautiful qualities and for subtle relationships; who
evokes the best of people, their confidence, their true and natural
selves; who is not in the least concerned with making an impression or
being thought wise or clever or brilliant, but who just hopes for
companionship and equality of soul.

Sometimes, indeed, one does not discern this largeness and wisdom of
spirit quite at first sight, though it is generally revealed by aspect
even more than by words. Sometimes these brotherly and sisterly persons
have a fence of shyness which cannot be instantly overleapt; but one
generally can discern the beautiful creature waiting gently within. But
as a rule these gracious people have nothing that is formidable or
daunting about them; they are quiet and simple; and having no cards to
play and no game to win, they are at leisure to make the best of other
people.

I have met both men and women of this apostolic kind, and one feels
that they understand; that in their tranquil maturity they can make
allowances for crude immaturity; that they do not at once dismiss one
as being foolishly young or tiresomely elderly: they have no subjects
of their own which they are vexed at finding misunderstood or not
comprehended. They do not think the worse of a person for having
preferences or prejudices; though when one has uttered a raw p