“What a puny ignoramus you are!” exclaimed the Great Axilla, “where can you have lived and not have been taught the underlying principles of cowardice? And I, sir, have specimens to illustrate each of those principles. Do you not even know the three grand divisions of cowards: the Physical Coward, the Moral Coward and the Intellectual Coward?” “Have we not time to go in and see some of them?” The Excelsior consulted his travelling dial, and said: “It is almost time for my afternoon siesta, but if you will make haste and not interrupt me with your insipid questions, I can give you a quick tour of inspection.” We alighted and ran in through the low, grated portals. “Here,” said the Excelsior, as we entered the first tier of cells, “are the Physical Cowards. They are too ordinary and common to need explanation. They are divided into two main subdivisions. Firstly, the positive physical coward, who, having neither intellect nor morality on his side, resorts to force. And when he defeats you by the strength of his bull neck and coarse fists he declares that he has proved himself in the right. “The second subdivision, which comprises those cells on the left-hand side, consists of the other and even more common variety. That is, a person who will not risk his body for the chance of protecting another, or who will not give up his cheap life for his country. A philosopher of your country once remarked, ‘’Tis man’s perdition to be safe, when for the Truth, he ought to die!’” The Excelsior took me by the arm and escorted me up a flight of winding stairs, until we reached a shaky, moving platform. The Axilla expatiated as follows: “On this higher level in this second tier of cells, live my Moral Cowards. Their cowardice has to do with character. Here too, there are subdivisions. Firstly, those who prefer to be what they are, and not what they might be. My friend, I speak with all due reverence: your Savior spoke of the Sin against the Holy Ghost, and here I think is that sin’s personification. For, the Unpardonable Sin, as I understand it, is not to struggle, not to strive to do right even though failure faces you at every turn, but instead to give up and become satiated with sloth, to yield to the worst elements in your nature and to grovel in their lowness. Bah! Do not start me talking about them, for it taints my own soul. “The other and more open moral coward, and therefore the more simple, is he or she who takes out his or her anger, not upon himself or herself who is really to blame, but foists the blame upon another, as the wolf found pretext against the lamb. Then of course, there is also that vast class who openly attack one of their sex for having done what they themselves would inwardly like to do. This last variety has always struck me as being the most human of all.