“What!” cried he, passionately; “are you going to give me a proof of
courage by daring to outrage _me?_ Is it by sending back my words in my
teeth you assume to be brave?”
“I ask pardon, sir,” said I, humbly, “if I have replied rudely; but you
called me by a name that made me forget myself. I hope you will forgive
me.”
“Sit down, there, sir; no, there.” And he pointed to a more distant
chair. “There are various sorts and shades of cowardice, and I would
not have you tarnished with any one of them. The creature whose first
thought, and indeed only one, in an emergency is his personal safety,
and who, till that condition is secured, abstains from all action, is
below contempt; him I will not even consider. But next to him--of
course with a long interval--comes the fellow who is so afraid of a
responsibility that the very thought of it unmans him. How did the fact
of my wager come to influence you at all, sir? Why should you have had
any thought but for the game you were playing, and how it behoved you
to play it? How came I and these gentlemen to stand between you and your
real object, if it were not that a craven dread of consequences had
got the ascendancy in your mind? If men were to be beset by these
calculations, if every fellow carried about him an armor of sophistry
like this, he 'd have no hand free to wield a weapon, and the world
would see neither men who storm a breach nor board an enemy. Till a man
can so isolate and concentrate his faculties on what he has to do that
all extraneous conditions cease to affect him, he will never be well
served by his own powers; and he who is but half served is only half
brave. There are times when the unreasoners are worth all the men of
logic, remember that. And now go and sleep over it.”
He motioned me to withdraw, but I could not bear to go till he had
withdrawn the slur he had cast on me in the word coward. He looked at me
steadfastly, but not harshly, for a moment or two, and then said,--
“You are not to think that it is out of regret for a lost sum of money I
have read you this lecture. As to the wager itself, I am as well pleased
that it ended as it did. These gentlemen are not rich, either of them. I
can afford the loss. What I cannot afford is the way I lost it.”
“But will you not say, sir, that I am no coward?” said I, faltering.
“I will withdraw the word,” said he, slowly, “the very first time I
shall see you deal with a difficulty without a thought for what it may
cost you. There; good-night; leave me now. I mean to have a ride with
you in the morning.”
And he nodded twice, and smiled, and dismissed me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account