virtue that Dr. Arnold laboured more sedulously to instil
into young men than the virtue of truthfulness, as being the manliest of
virtues, as indeed the very basis of all true manliness. He designated
truthfulness as "moral transparency," and he valued it more highly than
any other quality. When lying was detected, he treated it as a great
moral offence; but when a pupil made an assertion, he accepted it with
confidence. "If you say so, that is quite enough; OF COURSE I believe
your word." By thus trusting and believing them, he educated the young
in truthfulness; the boys at length coming to say to one another: "It's
a shame to tell Arnold a lie--he always believes one." [1610]

One of the most striking instances that could be given of the character
of the dutiful, truthful, laborious man, is presented in the life of
the late George Wilson, Professor of Technology in the University of
Edinburgh. [1611] Though we bring this illustration under the head of
Duty, it might equally have stood under that of Courage, Cheerfulness,
or Industry, for it is alike illustrative of these several qualities.

Wilson's life was, indeed, a marvel of cheerful laboriousness;
exhibiting the power of the soul to triumph over the body, and almost to
set it at defiance. It might be taken as an illustration of the saying
of the whaling-captain to Dr. Kane, as to the power of moral force over
physical: "Bless you, sir, the soul will any day lift the body out of
its boots!"

A fragile but bright and lively boy, he had scarcely entered manhood ere
his constitution began to exhibit signs of disease. As early, indeed,
as his seventeenth year, he began to complain of melancholy and
sleeplessness, supposed to be the effects of bile. "I don't think I
shall live long," he then said to a friend; "my mind will--must work
itself out, and the body will soon follow it." A strange confession for
a boy to make! But he gave his physical health no fair chance. His life
was all brain-work, study, and competition. When he took exercise it was
in sudden bursts, which did him more harm than good. Long walks in the
Highlands jaded and exhausted him; and he returned to his brain-work
unrested and unrefreshed.

It was during one of his forced walks of some twenty-four miles in
the neighbourhood of Stirling, that he injured one of his feet, and he
returned home seriously ill. The result was an abscess, disease of the
ankle-joint, and long agony, which ended in the a