Many a man would die for wife and children, for faith, for country. But
would he live for them? That, often, is the more heroic course--and the
more sensible. A rich man was hiring a driver for his carriage. He asked
each applicant how close he could drive to a precipice without toppling
over. "One foot," "Six inches," "Three inches," ran the replies. But an
Irishman declared, "Faith, and I'd keep as far away from the place as I
could." "Consider yourself employed," was the rich man's comment.
So he died for his faith. That is fine--
More than most of us do.
But stay, can you add to that line
That he lived for it, too?
In death he bore witness at last
As a martyr to truth.
Did his life do the same in the past
From the days of his youth?
It is easy to die. Men have died
For a wish or a whim--
From bravado or passion or pride.
Was it harder for him?
But to live: every day to live out
All the truth that he dreamt,
While his friends met his conduct with doubt,
And the world with contempt--
Was it thus that he plodded ahead,
Never turning aside?
Then we'll talk of the life that he led--
Never mind how he died.
_Ernest H. Crosby_