true to type.

After the Armistice Jim and Richard, who have fought for months side by
side, go to Paris together. Richard may "have a fling" at Jim's
amusements for the sake of playing the game and "seeing how the other
half lives" and all that--but before long we shall find him in the
high-class theaters and restaurants, visiting the wonderful art
collections and libraries, riding in luxurious automobiles, and staying
in the best hotels he can find. And even though Jim may have saved
Richard's life and Richard is eternally grateful, and loves Jim as a
"dandy good scout," their ways will inevitably drift apart when the one
big common interest of fighting together for a free world is over. They
will always remember each other. Jim will decide that a "highbrow" can
be a real man, and Richard will ever after have a fellow-feeling for the
"other half" and think of them now as "folks." But Jim is not at home in
Richard's neighborhood and circle; and Richard is a fish out of water in
Jim's. The point of view of each has been largely determined by his
heredity and his environment.

But suppose Jim isn't true to type. From the time he was a mere
youngster the ash-man life did not appeal to him. In school he liked the
highbrow crowd; he "took to" Latin and literature. He has a feeling of
vague disgust when he sees a vulgar picture, a shudder when the
street-organ grinds. There is something in Jim different. He isn't in
tune with either his immediate heredity or his environment. The
contribution from some remote ancestor has overbalanced the rest, and
Jim becomes a professional man.

Or perhaps Richard breaks his father's heart. Instead of following the
trail already made, he cuts loose, frequents vulgar resorts, hates his
school work, becomes a loafer and a bum--and, finally, a second-rate day
laborer. Again, what he is himself, his "vital spark" has been stronger
than immediate heredity and environment, and has broken through.

GETTING THE OTHER MAN'S POINT OF VIEW

Our points of view are very frequently merely hereditary or acquired
prejudices, hence altogether emotional rather than rational. We only
with great difficulty see things through another man's eyes. It
necessitates comprehending his background fully, and standing exactly
where he stands, so mind and eyes can both look out from the same
conditions that confront him. And this is only possible for the man or
woman possessed of a vicarious imagination. Such an i