Its image is of
the calm evening when the stars are out and the still night comes
on; when the dew is on the grass and the wind does not stir; when
the day's work is over, and the evening meal, and thought falls
clear in the quiet hour. It is the hour of reflection--and it is
human to reflect. Who shall contrive to be human without this
evening hour, which drives turmoil out, and gives the soul its
seasons of self-recollection? Serenity is not a thing to beget
inaction. It only checks excitement and uncalculating haste. It
does not exclude ardor or the heat of battle: it keeps ardor from
extravagance, prevents the battle from becoming a mere aimless
melee. The great captains of the world have been men who were
calm in the moment of crisis; who were calm, too, in the long
planning which preceded crisis; who went into battle with a
serenity infinitely ominous for those whom they attack. We
instinctively associate serenity with the highest types of power
among men, seeing in it the poise of knowledge and calm vision,
the supreme heat and mastery which is without splutter or noise
of any kind. The art of power in this sort is no doubt learned in
hours of reflection, by those who are not born with it.
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