But the essence of non-conformity as a personal attitude consists in contrary suggestion or the spirit of opposition. People of natural energy take pleasure in that enhanced feeling of self that comes from consciously _not_ doing that which is suggested or enjoined upon them by circumstances and by other persons. There is joy in the sense of self-assertion: it is sweet to do one’s own things; and if others are against him one feels sure they _are_ his own. To brave the disapproval of men is tonic; it is like climbing along a mountain path in the teeth of the wind; one feels himself as a cause, and knows the distinctive efficacy of his being. Thus self-feeling which, if somewhat languid and on the defensive, causes us to avoid peculiarity, may, when in a more energetic condition, cause us to seek it; just as we rejoice at one time to brave the cold, and at another to cower over the fire, according to the vigor of our circulation. This may easily be observed in vigorous children: each in his way will be found to attach himself to methods of doing things which he regards as peculiarly his own, and to delight in asserting these methods against opposition. It is also the basis of some of the deepest and most significant differences between races and individuals. Controlled by intellect and purpose this passion for differentiation becomes self-reliance, self-discipline, and immutable persistence in a private aim: qualities which more than any others make the greater power of superior persons and races. It is a source of enterprise, exploration, and endurance in all kinds of undertakings, and of fierce defence of private rights. How much of Anglo-Saxon history is rooted in the intrinsic cantankerousness of the race! It is largely this that makes the world-winning pioneer, who keeps pushing on because he wants a place all to himself, and hates to be bothered by other people over whom he has no control. On the frontier a common man defines himself better as a cause. He looks round at his clearing, his cabin, his growing crops, his wife, his children, his dogs, horses, and cattle, and says, _I did it: they are mine_. All that he sees recalls the glorious sense of things won by his own hand. Who does not feel that it is a noble thing to stand alone, to steer due west into an unknown universe, like Columbus, or, like Nansen, ground the ship upon the ice-pack and drift for the North Pole? “Adhere to your own act,” says Emerson, “and congratulate yourself if you have done something strange and extravagant, and broken the monotony of a decorous age.” We like that epigram, _Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni_, because we like the thought that a man stood out alone against the gods themselves, and set his back against the course of nature. The “souls that stood alone, While the men they agonized for hurled the contumelious stone,”