In the correct estimation of men, the most important consideration is the caliber they possess. But caliber can not be given a man even by the best of education and the highest of culture. Caliber is a gift of nature; a baby cat will never become a lion, similar as they may at first appear to be. The caliber present in a man can be but enlarged, not changed, through the great happenings of life, through severe sorrows, or through a very good environment, particularly if one have faithful and very well-disposed friends, or if one make the right marriage. We must, therefore, be careful not to wrong men by rating them too high and so requiring too much of them; it is not in their power to do it, but after their fashion, perhaps, they may be good, faithful men, on whom we may count for something, and who often accomplish more than they would if they imagined themselves to be of more consequence than they are. We must never seek for an intimate personal knowledge of the people to whom we want to surrender ourselves unconditionally, or to whom we intend to remain unconditionally hostile; for in both instances we shall become easily disconcerted by finding characteristics in them which will contradict our preconceived opinions. For a like reason, one ought to learn to know one’s enemies in person, and on the other hand, not to see one’s friends too often. A man’s reputation is not absolutely determinative in forming an estimate of him. Men of note, especially, are often different from what we had fancied them to be. On the whole, however, the public judgment passed on a man seldom goes altogether astray and is a very important factor in making up our estimate. In particular, there is no such thing as a complete misappreciation of a good man all his life through. The public judgment as to men who are much exposed to such judgment is generally subject, indeed, to continual fluctuation, like the surface of water, but it, nevertheless, has the tendency (not to be deflected) of ever returning again to its proper level. In the case of all good men, we can count on their having an aristocratic nature. Democracy is correct, as a political conviction, but as an ingrained characteristic it has no worth. Men who are fundamentally good we learn best to know in their time of trouble, for then the possibilities that lie within them come more clearly to light; but men of mediocre worth we learn best to know in their time of prosperity and by their manner of enjoying pleasures.