COWARDICE,
I think, may be defined as a shrinking of the mind through fear. The coward
on a sailing trip will declare that the headlands are privateers, and
if a storm come on he will ask if there is anyone who has not been initiated’
on board. He will put up his head and ask the man at the helm ‘Are we
nearly half-way ?‘ and 'What does the sky look like?' telling the person
beside him that he is a little nervous because of a dream he had. He will
take off his cloak and give it to his slave to ease him in case he has
to swim for it, or ask to be put on land. Should he be on a land campaign
he will call to those going to the rescue and tell them to stand by him
a moment and have a look round, for it is difficult to discover which
are the enemy. Hearing a noise of shouting and seeing men falling he will
say to those near him that in his hurry he has forgotten his sword and
will run back to the tent. Once there he will send his slave away to reconnoitre
and find out where the enemy are. Then he will conceal the sword under
the pillow and waste a long time pretending to look for it. Seeing from
the tent one of his friends being brought in wounded, he will run up to
him bidding him take heart, and will lift him up and carry him. He will
attend him and sponge him and sit beside bim and keep the flies off his
wound, do anything rather than go out atd fight the enemy. When the bugler
calls to action be will yell, still sitting in the tent, 'Oh, go to the
devil1! You wont let the man get any sleep with your everlasting
trumpeting.' Then, covered with blood from the other’s wound, he will
meet those coming from the battle and announce that be has run some considerable
risk to save one of his friends, and will summon the men of his township
and his tribe to see the wounded man, telling them how with his own hands
he bore him out of the battle to the tent.
1 The Greek espression is 'Go to the ravens' — i. e.,
make food for ravens.
COWARDICE,
I think, may be defined as a shrinking of the mind through fear. The coward
on a sailing trip will declare that the headlands are privateers, and
if a storm come on he will ask if there is anyone who has not been initiated’
on board. He will put up his head and ask the man at the helm ‘Are we
nearly half-way ?‘ and 'What does the sky look like?' telling the person
beside him that he is a little nervous because of a dream he had. He will
take off his cloak and give it to his slave to ease him in case he has
to swim for it, or ask to be put on land. Should he be on a land campaign
he will call to those going to the rescue and tell them to stand by him
a moment and have a look round, for it is difficult to discover which
are the enemy. Hearing a noise of shouting and seeing men falling he will
say to those near him that in his hurry he has forgotten his sword and
will run back to the tent. Once there he will send his slave away to reconnoitre
and find out where the enemy are. Then he will conceal the sword under
the pillow and waste a long time pretending to look for it. Seeing from
the tent one of his friends being brought in wounded, he will run up to
him bidding him take heart, and will lift him up and carry him. He will
attend him and sponge him and sit beside bim and keep the flies off his
wound, do anything rather than go out atd fight the enemy. When the bugler
calls to action be will yell, still sitting in the tent, 'Oh, go to the
devil1! You wont let the man get any sleep with your everlasting
trumpeting.' Then, covered with blood from the other’s wound, he will
meet those coming from the battle and announce that be has run some considerable
risk to save one of his friends, and will summon the men of his township
and his tribe to see the wounded man, telling them how with his own hands
he bore him out of the battle to the tent.
