thenes swore by the souls of those who fell at Marathon. Anciently, too, mariners swore by their ships, fishermen by their nets, soldiers by their spears, and kings by their scepters. The ancient Persians swore by the sun, which was the common object of their adoration, while the Scythians pledged themselves by the air they breathed and by their simitars. Descending to more modern times, the Saxons pledged themselves to support their homes and privileges by their arms; and the punishment for perjury or non-fulfilment of an oath was the loss of the hand that had held the weapon at the compact. The Spartans were wont to assemble around a brazier of fire, and, pointing their short swords to the sky, call upon the gods to bear witness to the compact. Swearing by the sword, in fact, retained its significance down to comparatively modern times, tho in a slightly modified form. Thus, while the pagans extended the point of the weapon toward the supposed residence of the gods, the warriors of Christianity after kissing it, directed the hilt—the true emblem of their faith—to heaven. A later form of oath was the pressing of the thumb upon the blade. Gradually, however, the practise became obsolete; and the kissing of the hilt, accompanying the words, "By this good sword!" was handed down almost to the time when the wearing of a sword by gentlemen was abolished, as one of the strictest codes of civil honor.—London Standard.
(2212)
OBEDIENCE
When the Duke of Wellington received a
very intrepid battalion returning from a
bloody campaign it was observed that he
said nothing of their courage, praising only
their discipline and subordination to command.
Civilians were surprized. The field
marshal's reason was ready—Englishmen are
expected to be brave, but obedience is a
higher honor. War itself, as a science of
slaughter, is not a lofty kind of work, as
the most courageous warriors in later days
always admit. Yet the military profession is
an elevated one in civilized countries, because
it is a discipline of character in the principle
of authority.—Bishop Huntington, The Forum.
(2213)
Hon. Richmond P. Hobson, in relating some of his experiences after he and his men were captured by the Spanish, tells the following story:
The next day, when it seemed uncertain
whether or not a remnant of the Inquisition
was to be revived, when the enemy did not
know whether it was his fault or ours that
a ship had been sunk, and rather inclined
to the belief that he had sunk an American
battleship and that we were the only survivors
out of several hundred, the men were
taken before the Spanish authorities and
serious and impertinent questions put to
them. Remember, they did not know what
it might cost them to refuse to answer,
Spanish soldiers of the guard standing before
them, making significant gestures with their
hands edgewise across their throats. Our
seamen laughed in their faces. Then a
Spanish major questioned Charette, because
he spoke French, and asked him this question:
"What was your object in coming
here?"
And so long as I live I shall never forget the way Charette threw back his shoulders, proudly lifted his head and looked him in the eye as he said:
"In the United States Navy, sir, it is not the custom for the seamen to know, or to desire to know, the object of an action of his superior officer."
Obedience to the right, is an all too
rare virtue, yet upon it depend the foundations
of society and the spread of
God's kingdom. We are privileged to
know and also to obey.
(2214)
The Princess of Wales, according to The Youth's Companion, has trained her children so carefully in habits of obedience and veracity that they are nearly models of what children should be in those particulars. Upon one occasion, however, they were sorely tempted. This was when their loving and beloved grandmother, Queen Alexandra, brought them a big box of bonbons. But when the sweets were offered to them, one child after another reluctantly but firmly declined to take any.
"We like them, but mother has forbidden us to eat them," explained the eldest prince.
"You can have the sugar-plums if I say you may," said the indulgent Queen. "I will tell mama all about it when she returns."
Prince Eddie wavered momentarily, then reiterated his refusal.
"We'd like them," he sighed, "but that's what mother said."
The Queen was slightly annoyed by this opposition.
