is wit in the combat, as gentle as bright,
Never carried a heart-stain away on its blade."

Such also was the character of Fox, who commanded the affection and
service of others by his uniform heartiness and sympathy. He was a man
who could always be most easily touched on the side of his honour.
Thus, the story is told of a tradesman calling upon him one day for the
payment of a promissory note which he presented. Fox was engaged at the
time in counting out gold. The tradesman asked to be paid from the money
before him. "No," said Fox, "I owe this money to Sheridan; it is a debt
of honour; if any accident happened to me, he would have nothing
to show." "Then," said the tradesman, "I change MY debt into one of
honour;" and he tore up the note. Fox was conquered by the act: he
thanked the man for his confidence, and paid him, saying, "Then Sheridan
must wait; yours is the debt of older standing."

The man of character is conscientious. He puts his conscience into his
work, into his words, into his every action. When Cromwell asked the
Parliament for soldiers in lieu of the decayed serving-men and tapsters
who filled the Commonwealth's army, he required that they should be men
"who made some conscience of what they did;" and such were the men of
which his celebrated regiment of "Ironsides" was composed.

The man of character is also reverential. The possession of this quality
marks the noblest, and highest type of manhood and womanhood: reverence
for things consecrated by the homage of generations--for high objects,
pure thoughts, and noble aims--for the great men of former times, and
the highminded workers amongst our contemporaries. Reverence is alike
indispensable to the happiness of individuals, of families, and of
nations. Without it there can be no trust, no faith, no confidence,
either in man or God--neither social peace nor social progress. For
reverence is but another word for religion, which binds men to each
other, and all to God.

"The man of noble spirit," says Sir Thomas Overbury, "converts all
occurrences into experience, between which experience and his reason
there is marriage, and the issue are his actions. He moves by affection,
not for affection; he loves glory, scorns shame, and governeth and
obeyeth with one countenance, for it comes from one consideration.
Knowing reason to be no idle gift of nature, he is the steersman of his
own destiny. Truth is his goddess, and he takes pains to get her,