| I. Qualities of the Recruit |
| II. What Music Shall We Have? |
| III. Not How Many, But Where the Enemy Are |
Spes sibi quisque. Virgil
Each one his own hope.
The brave man is the elder son of creation, who has stept buoyantly into hisinheritance, while the coward, who is the younger, waiteth patiently till hedecease. He rides as wide of this earth’s gravity as a star, and byyielding incessantly to all the impulses of the soul, is constantly drawnupward and becomes a fixed star. His bravery deals not so much in resoluteaction, as healthy and assured rest; its palmy state is a staying at home andcompelling alliance in all directions. So stands his life to heaven, as somefair sunlit tree against the western horizon, and by sunrise is planted on someeastern hill, to glisten in the first rays of the dawn. The brave man bravesnothing, nor knows he of his bravery. He is that sixth champion against Thebes,whom, when the proud devices of the rest have been recorded, the poet describesas “bearing a full-orbed shield of solid brass,”
“But there was no device upon its circle,
For not to seem just but to be is his wish.”
He does not present a gleaming edge to ward off harm, for that will oftenestattract the lightning, but rather is the all-pervading ether, which thelightning does not strike but purify. So is the profanity of his companion as aflash across the face of his sky, which lights up and reveals its serenedepths. Earth cannot shock the heavens, but its dull vapor and foul smoke makea bright cloud spot in the ether, and anon the sun, like a cunning artificer,will cut and paint it, and set it for a jewel in the breast of the sky.
His greatness is not measurable; not such a greatness as when we would erect astupendous piece of art, and send far and near for materials, intending to laythe foundations deeper, and rear the structure higher than ever; for henceresults only a remarkable bulkiness without grandeur, lacking those true andsimple proportions which are independent of size. He was not builded by thatunwise generation that would fain have reached the heavens by piling one brickupon another; but by a far wiser, that builded inward and not outward, havingfound out a shorter way, through the observance of a higher art. The Pyramidssome artisan may measure with his line; but if he gives you the dimensions ofthe Parthenon in feet and inches, the figures will not embrace it like a cord,but dangle from its entablature like an elastic drapery.
His eye is the focus in which all the rays, from whatever side, are collected;for, itself being within and central, the entire circumference is revealed toit. Just as we scan the whole concave of the heavens at a glance, but cancompass only one side of the pebble at our feet. So does his discretion giveprevalence to his valor. “Discretion is the wise man’s soul”says the poet. His prudence may safely go many strides beyond the utmostrashness of the coward; for, while he observes strictly the golden mean, heseems to run through all extremes with impunity. Like the sun, which, to thepoor worldling, now appears in the zenith, now in the horizon, and again isfaintly reflected from the moon’s disk, and has the credit of describingan entire great circle, crossi