"No, I would not," the Doctor answered confidently, yet with a little sadness in his voice. "It almost seems," he added, a moment after, "that the qualities which fit a man for a higher sphere are incompatible with his success in this."
"Not, perhaps, with what Harry would call success."
"I am ambitious for him; I own it. And so are you, though you do not own it. You want to see him recognized for what he is."
Certainly it is natural to wish that others should love what we love, should admire what we admire. Our desire of sympathy, our regard for justice, both ask it. But we must have trust.
"Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
Nor in the glistering foil
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies;
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove."
I could not answer the Doctor immediately. "Whatever course Harry may take," I said at last, "his power will make itself felt. He will disappoint neither of us."
"He has never given me a disappointment yet; though I prepare myself for one, whenever he begins anything new. We have no right to expect everything of one; but, whatever he is doing, it seems as if that was what he was most meant to do."
"It is in part his simple-mindedness, his freedom from the disturbing influence of self-love, which gives him this security of success in what he undertakes. You have said that Harry was one to take his own path. I will trust him to find it and hold to it."
"I must come to that," answered the Doctor, whose anxiety had gradually dissipated itself. "I don't know why I should hope to guide him now, if I could not when he was seven years old. On the infantile scale his characteristics were then just what they are now, and one of them certainly always was to have a way of his own.
"'The hero's blood is not to be controlled;
In childhood even 'tis manly masterful.'