The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1861-04-10
[FrOm Fridays Cincinnati Gazette.
he Heroic in Common Life. u

4 in the morning papers, lectured by invita-
ton, before the Union Literary Society, at
Melodeon Hall last evening. This distin-
guished authoress is too widely known to
need an introduction to our readers. Her
/ manner of speaking is earnest and attractive,
/ and she does not attempt to give emphasis
| to what she says by gestures, as is the case
! with nearly all women who essay public
! speaking. She has the happy faculty of en-
! listing the sympathy of her audience, so that
/ they seem to forget that it is woman ad-
dressing them-or, in other words, she dis
arms them of prejudice. She was introduced
last evening by Mayor Bishop, and she
appeared well pleased with the applause
that greeted her as she stepped forward on
the rO5trum.
Mrs. Lippincotts subject was, " The He
roic in Common Life She alluded at first
to the heroic struggle of Chevalier Rose in
1920, when the plague nearly depopulated
the city of Marselles, France. The same
selfsacri6cing principle of humanity was
found at a later day, when Norfolk, Vir-
ginia, was visited by the yellow fever it
was exhibited by DIR. Kane, in bis Arctic
explorations ; by Lady franklin, in having
faith in the idea of her husband being still
alive and in the devotion of the gallant
Herndon.
She related an instance Of an humbler
order Of herOism, though somewhat akin to
that of Herndon of one whose name sunk
with him in the deep, which came under
her own observation some years ago, at the
time of the burning of a steamer on one of
our Western lakes.
Among the few passengers whose courage
and perseverance Of mind rose superior to
all the horrors OF that night, was a mother
who succeeded in saving her two children
by means of a floating settee. For hours,
until help came, she cheered and comforted
the shiveriug, frightened creatures, sustain
ing herself meanwhile in the water by
merely resting her chin on the frail support.
This mother related that once as they
were floating near the burning wreck, a
man swan toward them, looking spent and
desperate. Seeing him about to grasp the
settee, she cried, "Oh, do not take it away
from my poor little children" The man
made no answer, yet the appeal struck home,
for by the light of the flames she could see
that his face was convulsed as with fierce
struggle between the mighty instinct of
nature, and something better and manlier.
1t WAS but a moment. He threw up his
arms with groan of remuneration, flung
himself over backward and went down.
This does not perhaps, equal the hero
ism Of Shelly's ship-wrecked man, who
"gaVe his last plank to an enemy, and
plunged aside to die" That was Christlike,
Godhke, but this was grandly human.
The instance of the wrecking of The Brit
ish ship " Birkenhead," bound for India,
having on boar a regiment of soldiers, was
mentioned. There were only boats enough
to save the passengers and crew. The SOL
diers chose the soldiers fate--tc die. They
IL IN
their last drumbeat, aud obeying the orders
of their Colonel as promptly as though on
parade. They stood there still and calm,
shoulder to shoulder, and saw the ship sink
ing beneath them-saw the boat put off to
shore, without one mutinous word. Their
last act, as they went down, was to fire Il
volley of musketry-a salute to their great
conqueror, DEATH charging upon them in
legions of white crested waves. Ere the
sound died away on the wild seas, they
sank, still shoulder to shoulder, into their
''vast and wandering grave" The sun in
his eternal round never looked upon a
grander sight than this.
Many who would have heroes all after
one ideal standard, complain of the prosaic
and sordid character of our time. They say
"only a heroic age can blossom with Sidneys
and Bayards." Oh no Sidneys and Bay
MUG WON4O hAoEAp @hS 0SO
exalt any condition. Grand types are they
of one order of heroism, but the variety is
infinite, and not until heaven ia drained of
the heroic element, will the world be with
out its human incarnatious.
On ZuDhen's battle plain Sir Philip Sid
ney, bleeding and faint with his DEATH
wound, waved away the cup Of cold water
held TO his lips, and commanded that it
should be given to a poor dying soldier,
whose wistful look had touched his great
heart That simple, sublime act of self-sac-
rifce set the seal of a divine impartiality
on the name of the soldier and the poet
On the long battle ground Of one of our rail-
roads, year or two ago, poor brakeman
lay bleeding aud dying from such wounds
/ as neither sabres nor balls can infict.-
! When, after the first horrible confusion was
past, people came to his assistance, he said,
Never mind me- I'm done for-go and
help those who can live" When they in
sisted on doing something for him, he said,
Well, turn me over on my side, and may
die a little easier. Thank you. Now go
and help the Others" They went their way
and he went his.