These last true words bring us to another element in heroism:  its simplicity.  Whatsoever is not simple; whatsoever is affected, boastful, wilful, covetous, tarnishes, even destroys, the heroic character of a deed; because all these faults spring out of self.  On the other hand, wherever you find a perfectly simple, frank, unconscious character, there you have the possibility, at least, of heroic action.  For it is nobler far to do the most commonplace duty in the household, or behind the counter, with a single eye to duty, simply because it must be done—­nobler far, I say, than to go out of your way to attempt a brilliant deed, with a double mind, and saying to yourself not only—­“This will be a brilliant deed,” but also—­“and it will pay me, or raise me, or set me off, into the bargain.”  Heroism knows no “into the bargain.”  And therefore, again, I must protest against applying the word heroic to any deeds, however charitable, however toilsome, however dangerous, performed for the sake of what certain French ladies, I am told, call “faire son salut”—­saving one’s soul in the world to come.  I do not mean to judge.  Other and quite unselfish motives may be, and doubtless often are, mixed up with that selfish one:  womanly pity and tenderness; love for, and desire to imitate, a certain incarnate ideal of self-sacrifice, who is at once human and divine.  But that motive of saving the soul, which is too often openly proposed and proffered, is utterly unheroic.  The desire to escape pains and penalties hereafter by pains and penalties here; the balance of present loss against future gain—­what is this but selfishness extended out of this world into eternity?  “Not worldliness,” indeed, as a satirist once said with bitter truth, “but other-worldliness.”

Moreover—­and the young and the enthusiastic should also bear this in mind—­though heroism means the going beyond the limits of strict duty, it never means the going out of the path of strict duty.  If it is your duty to go to London, go thither:  you may go as much further as you choose after that.  But you must go to London first.  Do your duty first; it will be time after that to talk of being heroic.

And therefore one must seriously warn the young, lest they mistake for heroism and self-sacrifice what is merely pride and self-will, discontent with the relations by which God has bound them, and the circumstances which God has appointed for them.  I have known girls think they were doing a fine thing by leaving uncongenial parents or disagreeable sisters, and cutting out for themselves, as they fancied, a more useful and elevated line of life than that of mere home duties; while, after all, poor things, they were only saying, with the Pharisees of old, “Corban, it is a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me;” and in the name of God, neglecting the command of God to honour their father and mother.