Still less noble than this aristocracy of birth (unless it is also inwardly noble) are, as a rule, the new arrivals into it from the lower classes, who mostly bring with them their inborn servile nature, or the arrogant money-aristocrats who have made themselves rich, but to whom the feeling of the rightfulness of their possessions must be wanting. Of such a man Demosthenes, in one of his finest speeches, asseverates that he was surely the child of some slave spuriously substituted in the place of the real child, and was not in the least fitted to belong in a free state. All arrogance (even that over one’s talents or success) is an unfailing sign of a small soul. Of pride, however, one can not say quite the same. In Dante’s great poem it is very noteworthy that it is only inside the gate of grace that release from pride, that is, humility, is imparted to the man who is purifying himself from all his faults; before, he employs his pride in overcoming other and lower sins that conflict yet more with the nobility of the soul. We can not, then, change this fact, that every genuine aristocracy rests upon the appointment of God, who is the only rightful “lord” upon earth, beside whom there is no other “right of lordship,” and who accepts those as his “vassals of the crown” whom he deems qualified. On the other hand, it is just as undoubted that individualism, the right of mastery over one’s own nature and over one’s free will so far as it is employed for good ends, is the most inalienable of all human rights, and one that no political democracy can or will ever set aside. To lower this individualism to a mere class or mass consciousness and to a common average of culture is barbarism; to develop it partially and selfishly only for oneself is criminal or insane. Beauty of form has its value and its right in the training of individual men and of whole generations, provided it is developed on the sound basis of the good--as if its blossom. But then it is the most perfect expression of manliness, of virtue in the ancient sense, of that chivalrous spirit of the Middle Ages which to-day is expressed in the word “gentlemanlike,” though this word often stands only for an empty mould without real contents. “Gentleness, when it weds to manhood, makes a man.” Otherwise not. “The fear of man bringeth a fall,” says the wise Hebrew proverb-writer; “but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe.” That is very much in accordance with experience. The fear of man leads always into by-paths and is ever somewhat petty and ignoble. Yet no one, even the highest and strongest, can forever remain without fear, if he knows no invisible Lord above him on whose protection he may absolutely rely, so long as he acts rightly.