uraged him, as it
encourages the baser natures, to become a bully in his turn, but rather
to hate and trample down the evil thing wherever he met it. His
theories, as I have said, led him to give a prominent place (too
prominent, as I think) to what he called 'coercion.' Coercion in some
form was inevitable upon his view; but right coercion meant essentially
the suppression of arbitrary violence and the substitution for it of
force regulated by justice. Coercion, in the form of law, was identical
with the protection of the weak against the strong and the erection of
an impregnable barrier against the tyrannous misuse of power. This
doctrine exactly expressed his own character, for, as he was strong, he
was also one of the most magnanimous of men. He was incapable of being
overbearing in social intercourse. He had the fighting instinct to the
full. An encounter with a downright enemy was a delight to him. But the
joy of battle never deadened his instinct of fair play. He would speak
his mind, sometimes even with startling bluntness, but he never tried to
silence an opponent by dogmatism or bluster. The keenest argument,
therefore, could not betray him into the least discourtesy. He might
occasionally frighten a nervous antagonist into reticence and be too apt
to confound such reticence with cowardice. But he did not take advantage
of his opponent's weakness. He would only give him up as unsuited to
play the game in the proper temper. In short, he represented what is
surely the normal case of an alliance between manliness and a love of
fair play. It is the weaker and more feminine, or effeminate, nature
that is generally tempted to resort to an unfair use of weapons.

When, therefore, Fitzjames found himself in a position of authority, he
was keenly anxious to use his power fairly. He became decidedly more
popular on the bench than he had been at the bar. His desire to be
thoroughly fair could not be stronger; but it had a better opportunity
of displaying itself. The counsel who practised before him recognised
his essential desire to allow them the fullest hearing. He learnt to
'suffer fools' patiently, if not gladly. I apologise, of course, for
supposing that any barrister could be properly designated by such a
word; but even barristers can occasionally be bores. Some gentlemen, who
are certainly neither the one nor the other, have spoken warmly of his
behaviour. The late Mr. Montagu Williams, for example, tells with
ple