O.M. No. _Outside influences_ reared it. At the command—and trembling—he marched out into the field—with other soldiers and in the daytime, not alone and in the dark. He had the _influence of example_, he drew courage from his comrades’ courage; he was afraid, and wanted to run, but he did not dare; he was _afraid_ to run, with all those soldiers looking on. He was progressing, you see—the moral fear of shame had risen superior to the physical fear of harm. By the end of the campaign experience will have taught him that not _all_ who go into battle get hurt—an outside influence which will be helpful to him; and he will also have learned how sweet it is to be praised for courage and be huzza’d at with tear-choked voices as the war-worn regiment marches past the worshiping multitude with flags flying and the drums beating. After that he will be as securely brave as any veteran in the army—and there will not be a shade nor suggestion of _personal merit_ in it anywhere; it will all have come from the _outside_. The Victoria Cross breeds more heroes than— Y.M. Hang it, where is the sense in his becoming brave if he is to get no credit for it? O.M. Your question will answer itself presently. It involves an important detail of man’s make which we have not yet touched upon. Y.M. What detail is that? O.M. The impulse which moves a person to do things—the only impulse that ever moves a person to do a thing. Y.M. The _only_ one! Is there but one? O.M. That is all. There is only one. Y.M. Well, certainly that is a strange enough doctrine. What is the sole impulse that ever moves a person to do a thing? O.M. The impulse to _content his own spirit_—the _necessity_ of contenting his own spirit and _winning its approval_. Y.M. Oh, come, that won’t do! O.M. Why won’t it? Y.M. Because it puts him in the attitude of always looking out for his own comfort and advantage; whereas an unselfish man often does a thing solely for another person’s good when it is a positive disadvantage to himself. O.M. It is a mistake. The act must do _him_ good, _first_; otherwise he will not do it. He may _think_ he is doing it solely for the other person’s sake, but it is not so; he is contenting his own spirit first—the other’s person’s benefit has to always take _second_ place. Y.M. What a fantastic idea! What becomes of self—sacrifice? Please answer me that. O.M. What is self-sacrifice? Y.M. The doing good to another person where no shadow nor suggestion of benefit to one’s self can result from it. II Man’s Sole Impulse—the Securing of His Own Approval Old Man. There have been instances of it—you think? Young Man. _Instances_? Millions of them! O.M. You have not jumped to conclusions? You have examined them—critically? Y.M. They don’t need it: the acts themselves reveal the golden impulse back of them. O.M. For instance?