"What have you there, boys?" asked Captain Bland.
"A ship," replied one of the lads who were passing the captain's neat
cottage.
"A ship! Let me see;" and the captain took the little vessel, and examined
it with as much fondness as a child does a pretty toy. "Very fair, indeed;
who made it?"
"I did," replied one of the boys.
"You, indeed! Do you mean to be a sailor, Harry?"
"I don't know. I want father to get me into the navy."
"As a midshipman?"
"Yes, sir."
Captain Bland shook his head.
"Better be a farmer, a physician, or a merchant."
"Why so, captain?" asked Harry;
"All these are engaged in the doing of things directly useful to society."
"But I am sure, captain, that those who defend us against our enemies, and
protect all who are engaged in commerce from wicked pirates, are doing what
is useful to society."
"Their use, my lad," replied Captain Bland, "is certainly a most important
one; but we may call it rather negative than positive. The civilian is
engaged in building up and sustaining society in doing good, through his
active employment, to his fellow-man. But military and naval officers do
not produce any thing; they only protect and defend."
"But if they did not protect and defend, captain, evil men would destroy
society. It would be of no use for the civilian to endeavor to build up, if
there were none to fight against the enemies of the state."
"Very true, my lad. The brave defender of his country cannot be dispensed
with, and we give him all honor. Still, the use of defence and protection
is not so high as the use of building up and sustaining. The thorn that
wounds the hand stretched forth to pluck the flower, is not so much
esteemed, nor of so much worth, as the blossom it was meant to guard.
Still, the thorn performs a great use. Precisely a similar use does the
soldier or naval officer perform to society; and it will be for you, my
lad, to decide as to which position you would rather fill."
"I never thought of that, captain," said one of the lads. "But I can see
clearly how it is. And yet I think those men who risk their lives for us in
war, deserve great honor. They leave their homes, and remain away,
sometimes for years, deprived of all the comforts and blessings that
civilians enjoy, suffering frequently great hardships, and risking their
lives to defend their country from her enemies."
"It is all as you say," replied Captain Bland; "and they do, indeed,
deserve great honor. Their calling is one that exposes them to imminent
peril, and requires them to make many sacrifices; and they encounter not
this peril and sacrifice for their own good, but for the good of others.
Their lives do not pass so evenly as do the lives of men who spend their
days in the peaceful pursuits of business, art, or literature; and we could
hardly wonder if they lost some of the gentler attributes of the human
heart. In some cases, this is so; but in very many cases the reverse is
true. We find the man who goes fearlessly into battle, and there, in
defence of his country, deals death and destruction unsparingly upon her
enemies, acting, when occasion offers, from the most humane sentiments, and
jeopardizing his life to save the life of a single individual. Let me
relate to you a true story in illustration of what I say.
"When the unhappy war that has been waged by our troops in Mexico broke
out, a lieutenant in the navy, who had a quiet berth at Washington, felt it
to be his duty to go to the scene of strife, and therefore asked to be
ordered to the Gulf of Mexico. His request was complied with, and he
received orders to go on board the steamer Mississippi, Commodore Perry,
then about to sail from Norfolk to Vera Cruz.
"Soon after the Mississippi arrived out, and before the city and castle
were taken, a terrible 'norther' sprung up, and destroyed much shipping in
the harbor. One vessel, on which were a number of passengers, was thrown
high upon a reef, and when morning broke, the heavy sea was making a clear
breach through her. She lay about a mile from the Mississippi, and it soon
became known on board the steamer, that a mother and her infant were in the
wreck, and that unless succor came speedily, they would perish. The
lieutenant of whom I speak, immediately ordered out a boat's crew, and
although the sea was rolling tremendously, and the 'norther' still blowing
a hurricane, started to the rescue. Right in the teeth of the wind were the
men compelled to pull their boat, and so slowly did they progress, that it
took over two hours to gain the wreck.
"At one time, they actually gave out, and the oars lay inactive in their
hands. At this crisis, the brave but humane officer, pointing with one hand
to the fortress of San Juan de Ulloa, upon which a fire had already
commenced, and with the other to the wreck, exclaimed, with noble
enthusiasm,
"'Pull away, men! I would rather save the life of that woman and her child,
than have the honor of taking the castle!'
"Struck by the noble, unselfish, and truly humane feelings of their
officer, the crew bent with new vigor to their oars. In a little while the
wreck was gained, and the brave lieutenant had the pleasure of receiving
into his arms the almost inanimate form of the woman, who had been lashed
to the deck, and over whom the waves had been beating, at intervals, all
night.
"In writing home to his friends, after the excitement of the adventure was
over, the officer spoke of the moment when he rescued that mother and child
from the wreck as the proudest of his life.
"Afterward he took part in the bombardment of Vera Cruz, and had command,
in turn, of the naval battery, where he faithfully and energetically
performed his duty as an officer in the service of his country. He was
among the first of those who entered the captured city; but pain, not
pleasure, filled his mind, as he looked around, and saw death and
destruction on every hand. Victory had perched upon our banners; the arms
of our country had been successful; the officer had bravely contributed his
part in the work; but he frankly owns that he experienced far more delight
in saving the woman he had borne from the wreck, than he could have felt
had he been the commander of the army that reduced the city.
"Wherever duty calls, my lads," concluded the captain, "you will find that
brave officer. He will never shrink from the post of danger, if his country
have need of him; nor will he ever be deaf to the appeal of humanity; but
so long as he is a true man, just so long will he delight more in saving
than in destroying."