=Aspiration.=—­When he would teach men to aspire he writes “Excelsior” and so causes them to know that only he who aspires really lives.  They see the groundling, the boor, the drudge, and the clown content to dwell in the valley amid the loaves and fishes of animal desires, while the man who aspires is struggling toward the heights whence he may gain an outlook upon the glories that are, know the throb and thrill of new life, and experience the swing and sweep of spiritual impulses.  He makes them to know that the man who aspires recks not of cold, of storm, or of snow, if only he may reach the summit and lave his soul in the glory that crowns the marriage of earth and sky.  They feel that the aspirant is but yielding obedience to the behests of his better self to scale the heights where sublimity dwells.

=Perseverance.=—­Or he writes the fourth “AEneid” to make men feel that the palm of victory comes only to those who persevere to the end; that duty does not abdicate in favor of inclination; and that the high gods will not hold guiltless the man who stops short of Italy to loiter and dally in Carthage even in the sunshine of a Dido’s smile.  When Italy is calling, no siren song of pleasure must avail to lure him from his course, nor must his sail be furled until the keel grates upon the Italian shore.  His navigating skill must guide him through the perils of Scylla and Charybdis and the stout heart of manhood must bear him past Mount AEtna’s fiery menace.  His dauntless courage must brave the anger of the greedy waves and boldly ride them down.  Nor must his cup of joy be full until the wished-for land shall greet his eager eyes.

=Overweening ambition.=—­Or, again, the poet may yearn to teach the wrong of overweening, vaulting ambition and he writes “Paradise Lost” and “Recessional.”  He pictures Satan overthrown, like the Giants who would climb into the throne on Olympus.  He pictures Hell as the fitting place for Satan overthrown, and in his own place he pictures the outcast and downcast Satan writhing and cursing because he was balked of his unholy ambition.  And, lest mortals sink from their high estate, borne down by their sins of unsanctified ambition, he prays, and prays again, “Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget, lest we forget.”  And the prayer echoes and reechoes in the soul of the man, and the world sees his lips moving in the prayer of the poet, “Lest we forget, lest we forget.”

=Native land.=—­Or, again, he writes Bannockburn and the spirit is fired with patriotic devotion to native land.  We hear the bagpipe and the drum and see the martial clans gathering in serried ranks and catch the glint of their arms and armor as they flash back the sunlight.  We hear their lusty calls as they rush together to defend the hills and the homes they love.  We see, again, the Wallace and the Bruce inciting valorous men to deeds of heroism and hear the hills reechoing with the shock of steel upon steel.  From hill to hill the pibroch leaps, and hearts and feet quicken at its sound.  And mothers are pressing their bairns to their bosoms as they cheer their loved ones away to the strife.  And while their eyes are weeping their hearts are saying: