ght,--is fatal, and will at once banish the all but divine
attribute. Before the man can be manly, the gifts which make him so
must be there, collected by him slowly, unconsciously, as are his
bones, his flesh, and his blood. They cannot be put on like a garment
for the nonce,--as may a little learning. A man cannot become
faithful to his friends, unsuspicious before the world, gentle with
women, loving with children, considerate to his inferiors, kindly
with servants, tender-hearted with all,--and at the same time be
frank, of open speech, with springing eager energies,--simply because
he desires it. These things, which are the attributes of manliness,
must come of training on a nature not ignoble. But they are the very
opposites, the antipodes, the direct antagonism, of that staring,
posed, bewhiskered and bewigged deportment, that _nil admirari_,
self-remembering assumption of manliness, that endeavour of twopence
halfpenny to look as high as threepence, which, when you prod it
through, has in it nothing deeper than deportment. We see the two
things daily, side by side, close to each other. Let a man put
his hat down, and you shall say whether he has deposited it with
affectation or true nature. The natural man will probably be manly.
The affected man cannot be so.

Mrs. Low was wrong when she accused our hero of being unmanly. Had
his imagination been less alert in looking into the minds of men, and
in picturing to himself the thoughts of others in reference to the
crime with which he had been charged, he would not now have shrunk
from contact with his fellow-creatures as he did. But he could not
pretend to be other than he was. During the period of his danger,
when men had thought that he would be hung,--and when he himself had
believed that it would be so,--he had borne himself bravely without
any conscious effort. When he had confronted the whole Court with
that steady courage which had excited Lord Chiltern's admiration, and
had looked the Bench in the face as though he at least had no cause
to quail, he had known nothing of what he was doing. His features had
answered the helm from his heart, but had not been played upon by his
intellect. And it was so with him now. The reaction had overcome him,
and he could not bring himself to pretend that it was not so. The
tears would come to his eyes, and he would shiver and shake like one
struck by palsy.

Mr. Monk came to him often, and was all but forgiven for the ap