The True Citizen: How to Become On e Part 2

Many of the restraints laid upon us result from the love of those in authority. If we were permitted to pursue our own inclinations, our health might be destroyed, our minds run to waste, and we should be apt to grow up slothful and selfish; a trouble to others and burdensome to ourselves. It is far easier to obey our parents and friends when we recall that we have experienced their goodness long enough to know that they wish to make us happy, even when their commands seem most severe.

Let us, therefore, show our appreciation of their goodness by doing cheerfully what they require.

The will is supported, strengthened, and perfected by obedience. There are many who suppose that real strength of will is secured by giving it free play. But we really weaken it in that way. Obedience to a reasonable law is a source of moral strength and power. Obedience is not weakness bowing to strength, but is rather submission to an authority whose claims are already admitted. If a man is royal when he rules over nature, and yet more royal when he rules his brother man, is he not most royal when he so rules himself as to do the right even when it is distasteful?

A man who had declared his aversion for what he called the dry facts of political economy, was found one day knitting his brows over a book on that subject. When a friend expressed surprise, the man replied: "I am playing the schoolmaster with myself. I am reading this because I dislike it."

Difficulties are often really helpful. They enlarge our experience and incite us to do our best. "The head of Hercules," says Ruskin, "was always represented as covered with a lion's skin, with the claws joining under the chin, to show that when we had conquered our misfortunes they became a help to us."

One of the greatest hindrances to obedience is a false pride. The thought of living under the will and direction of another is exceedingly unpleasant, and where such a pride bears rule in the heart, a cheerful obedience is almost an impossibility. We often fail to obey simply because we are unwilling to acknowledge ourselves in the wrong.

Obedience is also hindered by ignorance. One of our commonest errors is that which teaches that authority is always pleasant, and submission always painful. The actual experiences of life prove that the place of command is usually a position of great anxiety, while the place of obedience is generally one of ease and freedom from care.

Indolence also opposes obedience. In our selfish love of ease we allow duties to go undone until the habit of disobedience becomes almost unnoticeable; but when we find ourselves compelled to resist it, we then discover that to break away from its power is one of the hardest tasks we can be called upon to perform.

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE.

A very striking example of prompt and unquestioning obedience is furnished us in that famous "Charge of the Light Brigade" at Balaclava, during the Crimean War, of which you have all doubtless heard. A series of engagements between the Russians on the one side, and the English and their allies on the other side, took place near this little town, on October 25, 1854. The Russians were for a time victorious, and at last threatened the English port of Balaclava itself. The attack was diverted by a brilliant charge of the Heavy Brigade, led by General Scarlett.

Then, through a misunderstanding of the orders of Lord Raglan, the commander-in-chief, Lord Cardigan was directed to charge the Russian artillery at the northern extremity of the Balaclava valley with the Light Brigade, then under his command.

Lord Cardigan was an exceedingly unpopular officer, and greatly disliked by all his men, But no sooner was the order given than, with a battery in front of them, and one on either side, the Light Brigade hewed its way past these deadly engines of war and routed the enemy's cavalry. Of the six hundred and seventy hors.e.m.e.n who made the charge, only one hundred and ninety-eight returned. As an act of war it was madness. In the opinion of the most competent judges there was no good end to be gained by it. But as an act of soldierly obedience it was sublime. The deed has been immortalized by the poet Tennyson in the following verses:

I.

Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!" he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

II.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"

Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

III.

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and sh.e.l.l Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of h.e.l.l Rode the six hundred.

IV.

Flash'd all their sabers bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke, Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the saber-stroke Shattered and sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.

V.

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and sh.e.l.l, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of h.e.l.l, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.

VI.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honor the charge they made!

Honor the Light Brigade, n.o.ble six hundred!

[Footnote: For the story of the Crimean War, consult "Encyclopedia Britannica", Vol. VIII., p. 366; also Vol. XVII., pp. 228 and 486.]

IV.

CANDOR.

MEMORY GEMS.

Truth lies at the bottom of the well.--Old Proverb

Candor looks with equal fairness at both sides of a subject.

--Noah Webster

Daylight and truth meet us with clear dawn.--Milton

Perfect openness is the only principle on which a free people can be governed.--C. B. Yonge

There is no fear for any child who is frank with his father and mother.--Buskin

Candor and frankness are so closely akin to each other that we may properly study them together. Each of these words has an interesting origin. "Candor" comes from a Latin word meaning "_to be white_"; while "frankness" is derived from the name of the Franks, who were a powerful German tribe honorably distinguished for their love of freedom and their scorn of a lie. A candid man is one who is disposed to think and judge according to truth and justice, and without partiality or prejudice; while the one word _frank_ is used to express anything that is generous, straightforward and free.

Candor is a virtue which is everywhere commended, though not quite so prevalent in the world as might be expected. There are doctors who never tell a patient they can make nothing of his case, or that it is one which requires the attention of a specialist. There are lawyers who never a.s.sure a client that it is hopeless for him to expect to gain his suit. And so, in all trades and professions, candor is as rare as it is good.

The lack of a simple and straightforward statement of such facts as are in our possession, often leads to serious misunderstanding and sometimes to serious loss.

Frankness is a combination of truthfulness and courage. Its usefulness depends largely on its a.s.sociation with other qualities and circ.u.mstances; but to be frank is simply to dare to be truthful. There are many men who would scorn to tell a lie, who are dest.i.tute of frankness because they hesitate to face the consequences of perfect openness of speech or conduct.

An Irishman, who had neglected to thatch his cottage, was one day asked by a gentleman with whom he was conversing, "Did it rain yesterday?"

Instead of making a direct and candid reply, he sought to hide his fault, which he supposed had been discovered; and the conversation proceeded as follows. "Did it rain yesterday?" asked his friend. "Is it yesterday you mean?" was the reply. "Yes, yesterday." "Please your honor, I wasn't at the bog at all yesterday,--wasn't I after setting my potatoes?" "My good friend, I don't know what you mean about the bog; I only asked you whether it rained yesterday?" "Please your honor, I couldn't get a car and horse any way, to draw home my little straw, or I'd have the house thatched long ago." "Cannot you give me a plain answer to this plain question--Did it rain yesterday?" "Oh sure, I wouldn't go to tell your honor a lie about the matter. Sorrah much it rained yesterday after twelve o'clock, barring a few showers." Of course there will be no difficulty in seeing that such a conversation could not be entirely satisfactory to either party.

The virtue we are now recommending is in daily and hourly demand, and of high and priceless value. But here also we must beware of counterfeits.

A smooth outward manner, a countenance clothed with perpetual smiles, and an address distinguished by gentleness and insinuation, may be a.s.sumed for selfish ends. A truly candid man is neither carried away by ungenerous suspicion, nor by a weak acceptance of the views of others; and the whole const.i.tution of his mind must be entirely changed before he can become capable of deceit.

Frankness has often been counterfeited by mere _bl.u.s.ter_. A couple of striking examples of this fact are brought into view in the recently published "Life and Letters of Charles Darwin," in which, speaking of his childhood, Mr. Darwin says: "One little event has fixed itself very firmly in my mind, and I hope it has done so from my conscience having been afterward sorely troubled by it. It is curious as showing that apparently I was interested at this early age in the variability of plants! I told another little boy that I could produce variously colored primroses by watering them with certain colored fluids, which was of course a monstrous fable, and has never been tried by me. I may here also confess that as a little boy I was much given to inventing deliberate falsehoods, and this was always done for the sake of causing excitement. For instance, I once gathered much valuable fruit from my father's trees and hid it in the shrubbery, and then ran in breathless haste to spread the news that I had discovered a h.o.a.rd of stolen fruit."

Mr. Darwin also relates the following incident, as ill.u.s.trating the lack of truthfulness and candor on the part of another: "I must have been a very simple fellow when I first went to school. A boy of the name of Garnett took me into a cake shop one day, and bought some cakes for which he did not pay, as the shopman trusted him. When we came out I asked him why he did not pay for them, and he instantly answered, 'Why, do you not know that my uncle left a great sum of money to the town on condition that every tradesman should give whatever was wanted without payment to any one who wore his old hat and moved it in a particular manner?' He then showed me how to move the hat, and said, 'Now, if you would like to go yourself into that cake shop, I will lend you my hat, and you can get whatever you like if you move the hat on your head properly.' I gladly accepted the generous offer, and went in and asked for some cakes, moved the old hat, and was walking out of the shop, when the shopman made a rush at me; so I dropped the cakes and ran for dear life, and was astonished by being greeted with shouts of laughter by my false friend Garnett." The same truth is ill.u.s.trated in the case of an affected young lady who, on being asked, in a large company, if she had read Shakespeare, a.s.sumed a look of astonishment and replied: "Read Shakespeare! Of course I have! I read that when it first came out!"

Frankness and candor will always win respect and friends.h.i.+p, and will always retain them; and the consciousness of having such a treasure, and of being worthy of it, is more than wealth and honors. A man quickly finds when he is unworthy of public respect or private friends.h.i.+p; and the leaden weight he carries ever in his heart, cannot be lightened by any success or any gratification he may secure. But the man of upright character, and proper self-respect, will never meet with such trials as can deprive him of that higher happiness which rests in his own breast.

True candor is manly and leads directly to the development of n.o.bility both of principle and conduct. The late Hon. William P. Fessenden once made a remark which was understood as an insult to Mr. Seward. When informed of it, and seeing such a meaning could be given to his words, he instantly went to Mr. Seward, and said, "Mr. Seward, I have insulted you: I am sorry for it. I did not mean it." This apology, so prompt, frank, and perfect, so delighted Mr. Seward, that, grasping him by the hand, he exclaimed, "G.o.d bless you, Fessenden! I wish you would insult me again!" Such an exhibition of real manliness as this may well be cited as worthy of the imitation of the youth of the land.

DEAN STANLEY.

In "Tom Brown's Schooldays," that charming book, so dear to all wide-awake boys, there is a scene in which little Arthur is introduced in the act of kneeling beside his bed, on his first night at school, for the purpose of saying his prayers according to the custom he had always observed at his home. We are not so much concerned with the fact that he was ridiculed and persecuted by the older boys, as with the further factthat this boy Arthur is said to bear a remarkable resemblance to Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, whose name is everywhere known as the late Dean of Westminster Abbey, the most famous church in England, if not of the world at large. Arthur Stanley was one of the first boys to go to Rugby after the great Dr. Arnold took charge of the school, and an early ill.u.s.tration of his candor and open-mindedness is shown in his immediate and public appreciation of the splendid qualities of his master, at a time when Dr. Arnold was so generally abused, and even branded as an infidel. Dr. Arnold was indeed a n.o.ble teacher, and the very man to develop the best faculties in young Arthur Stanley; for one of the doctor's own strongest traits was this same open-mindedness.