CHAPTER II.

"Gentlemen," began the Captain, at the distinct appeal thus made to

him,--"Gentlemen, God made the earth, but man made the garden. God made

man, but man re-creates himself."

"True, by knowledge," said my father.

"By industry," said Uncle Jack.

"By the physical conditions of his body," said Mr. Squills. He could

not have made himself other than he was at first in the woods and wilds

if he had fins like a fish, or could only chatter gibberish like a

monkey. Hands and a tongue, sir,--these are the instruments of

progress."

"Mr. Squills," said my father, nodding, "Anaxagoras said very much the

same thing before you, touching the hands."

"I cannot help that," answered Mr. Squills; "one could not open one's

lips, if one were bound to say what nobody else had said. But after

all, our superiority is less in our hands than the greatness, of our

thumbs."

"Albinus, 'De Sceleto,' and our own learned William Lawrence, have made

a similar remark," again put in my father. "Hang it, sir!" exclaimed

Squills, "what business have you to know everything?"

"Everything! No; but thumbs furnish subjects of investigation to the

simplest understanding," said my father, modestly.

"Gentlemen," re-commenced my Uncle Roland, "thumbs and hands are given

to an Esquimaux, as well as to scholars and surgeons,--and what the

deuce are they the wiser for them? Sirs, you cannot reduce us thus into

mechanism. Look within. Man, I say, re-creates himself. How? By The

Principle Of Honor. His first desire is to excel some one else; his

first impulse is distinction above his fellows. Heaven places in his

soul, as if it were a compass, a needle that always points to one end;

namely, to honor in that which those around him consider honorable.

Therefore, as man at first is exposed to all dangers from wild beasts,

and from men as savage as himself, Courage becomes the first quality

mankind must honor: therefore the savage is courageous; therefore he

covets the praise for courage; therefore he decorates himself with the

skins of the beasts he has subdued, or the the scalps of the foes he has

slain. Sirs, don't tell me that the skins and the scalps are only hide

and leather: they are trophies of honor. Don't tell me that they are

ridiculous and disgusting: they become glorious as proofs that the

savage has emerged out of the first brute-like egotism, and attached

price to the praise which men never give except for works that secure or

advance their welfare. By and by, sirs, our savages discover that they

cannot live in safety amongst themselves unless they agree to speak the

truth to each other: therefore Truth becomes valued, and grows into a

principle of honor; so brother Austin will tell us that in the primitive

times truth was always the attribute of a hero."

"Right," said my father; "Homer emphatically assigns it to Achilles."

"Out of truth comes the necessity for some kind of rude justice and law.

Therefore men, after courage in the warrior, and truth in all, begin to

attach honor to the elder, whom they intrust with preserving justice

amongst them. So, sirs, Law is born--"

"But the first lawgivers were priests," quoth my father.

"Sirs, I am coming to that. Whence arises the desire of honor, but from

man's necessity of excelling,--in other words, of improving his

faculties for the benefit of others; though, unconscious of that

consequence, man only strives for their praise? But that desire for

honor is unextinguishable, and man is naturally anxious to carry its

rewards beyond the grave. Therefore he who has slain most lions or

enemies, is naturally prone to believe that he shall have the best

hunting fields in the country beyond, and take the best place at the

banquet. Nature, in all its operations, impresses man with the idea of

an invisible Power; and the principle of honorthat is, the desire of

praise and reward-snakes him anxious for the approval which that Power

can bestow. Thence comes the first rude idea of Religion; and in the

death-hymn at the stake, the savage chants songs prophetic of the

distinctions he is about to receive. Society goes on; hamlets are

built; property is established. He who has more than another has more

power than another. Power is honored. Alan covets the honor attached

to the power which is attached to possession. Thus the soil is

cultivated; thus the rafts are constructed; thus tribe trades with

tribe; thus Commerce is founded, and Civilization commenced. Sirs, all

that seems least connected with honor, as we approach the vulgar days of

the present, has its origin in honor, and is but an abuse of its

principles. If men nowadays are hucksters and traders, if even military

honors are purchased, and a rogue buys his way to a peerage, still all

arises from the desire for honor, which society, as it grows old, gives

to the outward signs of titles and gold, instead of, as once, to its

inward essentials,--courage, truth, justice, enterprise. Therefore I

say, sirs, that honor is the foundation of all improvement in mankind."

"You have argued like a sclioolman, brother," said Mr. Caxton,

admiringly; "but still, as to this round piece of silver, don't we go

back to the most barbarous ages in estimating so highly such things as

have no real value in themselves,--as could not give us one opportunity

for instructing our minds?"

"Could not pay for a pair of boots," added Uncle Jack.

"Or," said Mr. Squills, "save you one twinge of the cursed rheumatism

you have got for life from that night's bivouac in the Portuguese

marshes,--to say nothing of the bullet in your cranium, and that cork-

leg, which must much diminish the salutary effects of your

constitutional walk."

"Gentlemen," resumed the Captain, nothing abashed, "in going back to

those barbarous ages, I go back to the true principles of honor. It is

precisely because this round piece of silver has no value in the market

that it is priceless, for thus it is only a proof of desert. Where

would be the sense of service in this medal, if it could buy back my

leg, or if I could bargain it away for forty thousand a year? No, sirs,

its value is this,--that when I wear it on my breast, men shall say,

'That formal old fellow is not so useless as he seems. He was one of

those who saved England and freed Europe.' And even when I conceal it

here," and, devoutly kissing the medal, Uncle Roland restored it to its

ribbon and its resting-place, "and no eye sees it, its value is yet

greater in the thought that my country has not degraded the old and true

principles of honor, by paying the soldier who fought for her in the

same coin as that in which you, Mr. Jack, sir, pay your bootmaker's

bill. No, no, gentlemen. As courage was the first virtue that honor

called forth, the first virtue from which all safety and civilization

proceed, so we do right to keep that one virtue at least clear and

unsullied from all the money-making, mercenary, pay-me-in-cash

abominations which are the vices, not the virtues, of the civilization

it has produced."

My Uncle Roland here came to a full stop; and, filling his glass, rose

and said solemnly: "A last bumper, gentlemen,--'To the dead who died for

England!'"

The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 03 · 第 2 / 8 章