Of all vocations, the profession of arms is the one for which it might be supposed that a perfect physique is the most essential.

Yet Alexander, CÆsar, Alfred the Great, John of Bohemia, Torstensson, Le Grand CondÉ and his great rival Turenne, Luxembourg, Napoleon, General Wolfe and finally Lord Nelson are proofs to die contrary.

Alexander the Great, singular even among men of action for the splendor of his imagination, was an epileptic. So also was Julius CÆsar. The latter was often attacked by his malady on the very field of battle.

Alfred, so justly called “the Great,” was stricken in his twentieth year by a mysterious disease which caused him intense pain and from which he was never afterwards free. The extent and diversity of his activities are, however, almost incredible. He excelled as a soldier, politician and administrator. He was also a scholar, and the revival of learning which took place under his reign was due solely to his efforts.

King John of Bohemia stands out as the most romantic and chivalrous figure of the Middle Ages. He dazzled his contemporaries by his exploits and his reputation for valor has never been exceeded. He was overtaken by blindness at the age of forty-three, but, strapped to his horse, continued to lead his armies to battle. For six years this blind hero successfully resisted all the attacks of the Emperor Louis and his allies. His heroic death at the battle of CreÇy was a fitting conclusion to a gallant life. According to Camden, the ostrich feathers and the motto “Ich dien,” borne ever since by the Prince of Wales, originally formed the crest of King John, and were first assumed by the Black Prince as a token of the admiration with which his antagonist inspired him.

CondÉ, known to history as “Le Grand CondÉ,” was so delicate in childhood that he was not expected to reach maturity, and his nervous system was “at no time to be trifled with.” During his innumerable campaigns he was a constant martyr to fevers and other maladies, but these seldom interfered with his untiring energy or his capacity for work. He had also the power of arousing the enthusiasm of his followers. They said of him: “In the midst of misfortune CondÉ always maintains the character of a hero.”

Turenne is one of the captains whose campaigns Napoleon recommended all soldiers to “read and re-read.” Physical infirmities and an impediment in his speech hampered his career in youth. However, by devoting himself to bodily exercises, he succeeded in a measure in overcoming his weaknesses, but to the end he never possessed a normal physique.

Count Torstensson, the brilliant Swedish field-marshal, celebrated after Gustavus Adolphus as the hero of the Thirty Years’ War, and compared to Napoleon for the rapidity with which he was able to move his troops, had frequently to lead his army from a litter, as his infirmities would not permit him to mount a horse. He is considered by experts to have been a greater man than his opponent, Tilly, although the latter, strangely enough, has a more widespread reputation.

A propos Luxembourg and William III (although the latter should be included among the statesmen), I will quote a passage from Macaulay. “In such an age (1694) bodily vigor is the most indispensable qualification for a warrior. At the battle of Landon two poor, sickly beings, who, in a rude state of society, would have been considered too puny to bear part in combats, were the souls of two great armies.” And further on: “It is probable that the two feeblest in body among the hundred and twenty thousand soldiers that fought at Neerwinden were the hunch-backed dwarf (Luxembourg) who urged forward the fiery onset of France, and the asthmatic skeleton (William III) who covered the slow retreat of England.”

Napoleon was an epileptic and Lord Nelson, at the height of his efficiency, had lost an arm and an eye and what is even more remarkable was, so it is said, sick every time he went to sea or whenever the weather was exceptionally rough.

General Wolfe, although only thirty-two years old, was already a man of shattered health when he undertook his famous expedition against Quebec. In spite of disheartening failures and the torture of an internal malady, he finally won the decisive victory which wrested Quebec from the French. During the battle he was twice wounded but refused to leave the field until a third bullet pierced his lung. He survived only long enough to give a final order for cutting off the retreat and breathed his last murmuring: “Now, God be praised, I will die in peace.”

Let us consider for a moment what made these men pre-eminent. It was not courage. CÆsar and Napoleon were no braver than thousands of their followers. Nor was it the capacity for endurance. What then was the secret of their power? I answer unhesitatingly,—imagination. No leader has been without it and the greatest leaders are the men who have had it to a superlative degree. Napoleon recognized its mysterious sway, for it was he who said: “Imagination rules the world.” Now, imagination is the very quality we find most frequently allied to ill-health.

I beg to call to your attention that with the exception of le grand CondÉ and possibly Napoleon, not one of these men would have passed his “medical.”

It is certainly curious that the profession of arms, the most physically exacting of all professions, is the only one whose greatest examples have without exception been tainted with disease.