is critical judgment, said, "Mr. Henley is
pontifical in his wrath; it pleased him, for example, to deny to De
Quincey the title to write English prose." That a criticism so arrogant,
so saugrenu, should be re-echoed with such devoted commendation is a
proof that the writer's independent judgment was simply swept away by
Henley's personality; and in both these cases one is merely brought face
to face with the fact that though men can earn the admiration of the
world by effective performance, the most spontaneous and enduring
gratitude is given to individuality.

The other way of greatness is the way of intensity, that focuses all
its impact at some brilliant point, like a rapier-thrust or a flash of
lightning. Men with this kind of greatness have generally some supreme
and dazzling accomplishment, and the rest of their nature is often
sacrificed to one radiant faculty. Their power, in some one single
direction, is absolutely distinct and unquestioned; and these are the
men who, if they can gather up and express the forces of some vague and
widespread tendency, some blind and instinctive movement of men's minds,
form as it were the cutting edge of a weapon. They do not supply the
force, but they concentrate it; and it is men of this type who are often
credited with the bringing about of some profound and revolutionary
change, because they summarise and define some huge force that is
abroad. Not to travel far for instances, such a man was Rousseau. The
air of his period was full of sentiments and emotions and ideas; he was
not himself a man of force; he was a dreamer and a poet; but he had
the matchless gift of ardent expression, and he was able to say
both trenchantly and attractively exactly what every one was vaguely
meditating.

Now let us take some of the chief departments of human effort, some of
the provinces in which men attain supreme fame, and consider what
kinds of greatness we should expect the present day to evoke. In the
department of warfare, we have had few opportunities of late to discover
high strategical genius. Our navy has been practically unemployed,
and the South African war was just the sort of campaign to reveal the
deficiencies of an elaborate and not very practical peace establishment.
Though it solidified a few reputations and pricked the bubble of some
few others, it certainly did not reveal any subtle adaptability in our
generals. It was Lord North, I think, who, when discussing with his
Ca