got;
it is indeed an honour to me that such an assimilation should have
occurred to you.' Those who have studied the character of one whom even
the rigid Austin thought worthy to be called 'the godlike Turgot,' know
both the nobleness and the rarity of this type.

Its force lies not in single elements, but in that combination of an
ardent interest in human improvement with a reasoned attention to the
law of its conditions, which alone deserves to be honoured with the high
name of wisdom. This completeness was one of the secrets of Mr. Mill's
peculiar attraction for young men, and for the comparatively few women
whose intellectual interest was strong enough to draw them to his books.
He satisfied the ingenuous moral ardour which is instinctive in the best
natures, until the dust of daily life dulls or extinguishes it, and at
the same time he satisfied the rationalistic qualities, which are not
less marked in the youthful temperament of those who by and by do the
work of the world. This mixture of intellectual gravity with a
passionate love of improvement in all the aims and instruments of life,
made many intelligences alive who would otherwise have slumbered, or
sunk either into a dry pedantry on the one hand, or a windy, mischievous
philanthropy on the other. He showed himself so wholly free from the
vulgarity of the sage. He could hope for the future without taking his
eye from the realities of the present. He recognised the social
destination of knowledge, and kept the elevation of the great art of
social existence ever before him, as the ultimate end of all speculative
activity.

Another side of this rare combination was his union of courage with
patience, of firm nonconformity with silent conformity. Compliance is
always a question of degree, depending on time, circumstance, and
subject. Mr. Mill hit the exact mean, equally distant from timorous
caution and self-indulgent violence. He was unrivalled in the difficult
art of conciliating as much support as was possible and alienating as
little sympathy as possible, for novel and extremely unpopular opinions.
He was not one of those who strive to spread new faiths by brilliant
swordplay with buttoned foils, and he was not one of those who run amuck
among the idols of the tribe and the market-place and the theatre. He
knew how to kindle the energy of all who were likely to be persuaded by
his reasoning, without stimulating in a corresponding degree the energy
of perso