In the case of Jim
Templeton, who needed no stimulant to his intellect, but rather a
steadying quality, a sense of proportion, the daily routine, the command
of men, the diverse nature of his duties, half civil, half military, the
personal appeals made on all sides by the people of the country for
advice, for help, for settlement of disputes, for information which his
well-instructed mind could give--all these modified the romantic
brilliance of his intellect, made it and himself more human.
It had not come to him all at once. His intellect at first stood in his
way. His love of paradox, his deep observation, his insight, all made
him inherently satirical, though not cruelly so; but satire had become
pure whimsicality at last; and he came to see that, on the whole, the
world was imperfect, but also, on the whole, was moving towards
perfection rather than imperfection. He grew to realise that what seemed
so often weakness in men was tendency and idiosyncrasy rather than evil.
And in the end he thought better of himself as he came to think better
of all others.
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