Y.M. I suppose, then, there is no more merit in being brave than in being a coward? O.M. _Personal_ merit? No. A brave man does not _create_ his bravery. He is entitled to no personal credit for possessing it. It is born to him. A baby born with a billion dollars—where is the personal merit in that? A baby born with nothing—where is the personal demerit in that? The one is fawned upon, admired, worshiped, by sycophants, the other is neglected and despised—where is the sense in it? Y.M. Sometimes a timid man sets himself the task of conquering his cowardice and becoming brave—and succeeds. What do you say to that? O.M. That it shows the value of _training in right directions over training in wrong ones_. Inestimably valuable is training, influence, education, in right directions—_training one’s self-approbation to elevate its ideals_. Y.M. But as to merit—the personal merit of the victorious coward’s project and achievement? O.M. There isn’t any. In the world’s view he is a worthier man than he was before, but _he_ didn’t achieve the change—the merit of it is not his. Y.M. Whose, then? O.M. His _make_, and the influences which wrought upon it from the outside. Y.M. His make? O.M. To start with, he was _not_ utterly and completely a coward, or the influences would have had nothing to work upon. He was not afraid of a cow, though perhaps of a bull: not afraid of a woman, but afraid of a man. There was something to build upon. There was a _seed_. No seed, no plant. Did he make that seed himself, or was it born in him? It was no merit of _his_ that the seed was there. Y.M. Well, anyway, the idea of _cultivating_ it, the resolution to cultivate it, was meritorious, and he originated that. O.M. He did nothing of the kind. It came whence _all_ impulses, good or bad, come—from _outside_. If that timid man had lived all his life in a community of human rabbits, had never read of brave deeds, had never heard speak of them, had never heard any one praise them nor express envy of the heroes that had done them, he would have had no more idea of bravery than Adam had of modesty, and it could never by any possibility have occurred to him to _resolve_ to become brave. He _could not originate the idea_—it had to come to him from the _outside_. And so, when he heard bravery extolled and cowardice derided, it woke him up. He was ashamed. Perhaps his sweetheart turned up her nose and said, “I am told that you are a coward!” It was not _he_ that turned over the new leaf—she did it for him. _He_ must not strut around in the merit of it —it is not his. Y.M. But, anyway, he reared the plant after she watered the seed.